Copyright 2019 by tcs1963

All right field Reserved

'' BLACK DOES N'T smear ''

by tcs1963

Her hide was sick white, almost to the point of radiance. She was hitchhiking, with her hitch stuck out like a well-lit signpost. Her left arm cradling a minuscule cluster very gently but protectively.

I noticed her because her skin contrasted against the colored night sky. Almost as if luring me to draw in over, like preteen children trusting the molester in a dirty white-hot oeuvre van, holding a handful of confect.

I had never stopped to clean up hitchhikers before and as a affair of fact, I was always warned against it. But I literally could n't pass this young madam by. Helping her seemed utterly paramount.

Her beauty called out to me like some sort of Siren 's Song. Making my dying feelings of fearfulness button to the back of my brain, along with my logic.

Along with her Mexican onyx skin, this young gentlewoman dressed very uniquely. Like she had stepped off the front man of your favorite medieval or hoodlum rock record album cover.

The twinkle breeze sweeping her hair across her face. The flowing raven Black lock curling willy-nilly around her typeface. Making her look destitute but dangerous at the Lapp clip.

Her tiny body was completely enveloped in a contraband leather gabardine type cap, hanging down almost past her knees. Accenting the niggling ignominious dress underneath. It finished off her tough look like she could be in some variety of motorcycle club.

The only part of her that was neither blacken nor White River was her sass, which were a deep blood red. Scary dark and wet like a wild animal that had just eaten a rarified piece of meat.

This odd combination of dress, which would have looked unnatural on anyone else, had the opposite force on her. So she was n't surprised that the first car that stopped held a man. An honest-to-goodness farmer panache man to be exact.

'' Where ya going ? '' the old man yelled gruffly through an open window.

'' Anywhere, '' she softly muttered. Pulling the bundle in her coat of arms tighter to her chest. `` Anywhere but here. ``

She walked up to the rusty fleeceable truck room access and paused, as though she was trying to decide whether to get in or not.

'' What are ya waiting for ? '' he said shoving the threshold exposed for her, `` Get in. ''

She smiled gratefully, her pointed teeth accidentally poking out between her lips. Then she slid into the worn leather seat.

'' So where are ya from ? '' he asked, looking down at her bare thighs with his heart sparkling hungrily.

The woman just gestured with her brain toward the forest and continued as if she were feeding the nipper in her arms. Suckling dissonance coming across the butt, spurring the old farmer 's imaginativeness of untested succulent breast.

'' Not very expansive are you ? '' the unkempt old James Leonard Farmer mumbled in a tone that was almost inaudible to himself. But she caught every syllable.

She just glared at the sodbuster, thirst and angriness were getting the practiced of her. Her eyes were pits of darkness sparking with choler, as her inherent aptitude kicked into overdrive.

'' So how come you are wearing all black ? '' he asked. `` Did soul die or something ? ''

She gave him an odd face, partly puzzled and partly surprised. Thinking to herself that he was quite nosey for his age, and then wondering if he would scream in fear.

But before she could do his head, a piercing wail filled the air. It was coming from the sheaf of textile, clasped against her bureau.

The inhuman thigh-slapper continued as the woman began unraveling the cloth. One layer off, then another, and another, until finally, the shaver was naked.

There, beneath all of those layer and mantle, lay a scrawny babe boy, not a particularly beautiful sister, but a baby all the same.

'' Ai n't ya going ta shut it up ? '' he yelled, just cheap enough that he could be heard over the baby 's wail.

'' He 's hungry, '' she stated abruptly.

The man looked at her expectantly, as though waiting for her to do something to quell the screaming infant.

She just sat there, her ghostly white titty resting on his lips. She was looking right back at him with that piercing gaze of hers.

With a sigh, the granger leaned over and wiggled his pudgy fingerbreadth in front line of the child 's side, trying to disport and lenify the minor.

For a few mo, it seemed to be working ; the little boy 's sobs slowly quieted, and he began gazing hungrily at the old husbandman 's unclean fingerbreadth.

The child watched them go back and Forth. Then slowly the babe opened his jaw wide and slammed it shut on the largest of the man 's fingers. Severing his thumb.

The man screamed, slamming on the brakes. Cradling his handwriting and staring at what remained of his thumb in shock.

Within seconds the baby boy began wailing again, spitting out the remnant of the finger he had been gnawing on.

'' Now look what you 've done ! '' The lady shouted angrily.

She shoved the finger's breadth back into the baby 's sass and began moving his jaw up and down, forcing him to manducate it, the totally sentence forgetful to the man 's endless screaming.

'' Do n't think I 've forgotten you, '' she said, turning to the man.

Her words were returned by his silence and a look of fear and confusion. His screeching silenced and he fumbled with the ringlet on his door.

Scrambling, he had almost gotten the door undetermined when the woman grabbed his arm. His blood line sheeting across the windshield.

The charwoman 's posture surprising him, her steel-like traction was near inconceivable to break. So his constant struggling to get some aloofness, only made him weaker.

She nonchalantly brushed away the hair on his neck and dug her canines into the bland fragile build of his throat.

In indorsement he stopped struggling, semi-conscious. His eyes all-inclusive as he realized his luck was sealed.

The woman drank ravenously, almost greedily, until she finally had her fill. Her insatiable hunger sated for the time being

She then pressed the child 's brim against one of the two punctures that were still oozing parentage droplets. The baby took two loath deglutition and stopped his suckling.

She pressed the kid against his bloody throat, but to her botheration, he would not wet-nurse anymore.

Reluctantly bundling up the infant, she turned to the room access preparing to head back into the Grant Wood.

On second intellection, she turned back around to take care at the man, who was just awakening from unconsciousness.

'' You wanted to know why I wear melanise ? '' The man groaned. A moan that the adult female took for agreement.

Moving towards the woods she quipped, `` Because disastrous does n't stain. ``

The End ...