Hiding in the shadows he watched her. Her long, shiny, blue-black tomentum and pale tegument illuminated by the silver luminance of the moon. It was former. Past midnight. He watched her make her way up the stairs, and fumble for her paint.

He took a swig from the bottle of vodka he held in his helping hand. His hands were trembling with anticipation. Excitement. His breath smelled of alcohol and his apparel smelled of stale cigarette smoking.

The cleaning woman had a coffin nail dangling from her full lips, she took one final drag, before tossing it onto the slick, wet grass. A consequence later, the room access swung unfastened, and she stepped inside. He heard her sigh heavily. She slipped off her brake shoe, hung up her coating, and made her way on a higher floor towards the bedchamber, without ever switching on the light.

She wore tattered lacing and black velvet. She was lose weight and attractive in her own way. A eloquent rood was suspended from her smooth ashen neck opening. Her lips were painted a metal blue to pair her nail polish.

He knew her function. She would come home from work late each Night. Then drive a hot bath before falling asleep on the couch, her cat curled up in her lap, and a Holy Writ in hand. It never changed.

She had no friend that he knew of. There were never any visitant. The phone hardly ever rang, and when it did, it was usually a legal injury number or a unyielding telemarketer.

She worked alone. A mortician. side by face with cold, lifeless corps. He guessed they would n't miss her. And he guessed that no one else would either.

He watched her from his pole outside of her windowpane as she undressed. Her flimsy black lace bra and panties falling to the floor at her substructure, revealing a distich of with child, business firm breast and a clean-shaven snatch. Such a beautiful cunt, he thought. He closed his oculus and imagined himself down on his knees before her. Or perhaps with her squatting over him. His warm, wet tongue exploring her folds. Teasing her clit. Making her body writhe with pleasure. Making her come over and over again, before sliding his hard rooster inside of her. Maybe even fucking her asshole. He could smell her. Almost taste her. His shaft throbbed in his denim. Not yet, he told himself. Be patient.

He slipped and made a small speech sound on the porch cap. He froze. Had she heard him, was she looking out the window ? No.

As he looked on he saw an ink black tattoo of a bat on her shoulder, its flank outstretched, with buttony red eyes, and an intricate tattoo of a wanderer web, above her pierced naval.

He watched her disappear into the lav. Listened to the rush water system Begin to fill the bathtub. She lit some wax light and sprinkled some wind bath oil into the H2O. His rooster began to rise intemperate thinking about how exhilarating it would be to enfold the black electric cord around her slender neck. To literally steal her breath away. He pulled the corduroy taut in his mitt. The time was near.

He watched her sling one long leg over the tub, and than the early. She let her body sink into the warm pee and closed her eyes. He stood there watching her for a few here and now. He was amused. It looked like the ma'am was feeling a bit kittenish that evening.

She began to let her hands roam over her physical structure. Caressing her bosom and stomach. He began to stroke his tool, while he watched her pick out both of her embrown mammilla between her thumb and index finger and squeezing gently.

She brought one of her pap to her sassing and began encircling it with her lip, while she allowed her liberate handwriting to rub down her clit. She began rubbing it while she continued to suck and pick on one of her big, brown nipples.

That 's it he thought to himself. Get real prissy and wet. Real gracious and wet. So that my big hard turncock will just slither right in.

Keeping her thumb on her clitoris, she inserted two finger inside of herself. Rubbing her clitoris harder and faster, fingers diving in and out of her pussy. She brought herself to orgasm rather quickly. Exploding all over her digit, than putting them into her lip so that she could taste herself.

He imagined how wonderful it would be to try her seraphic nectar upon his lips. He watched her for a few More minutes, about to explode himself. Then it was time. He crept silently into the bathroom. He stood over her for a here and now. Admiring her. Such a beautiful woman. Such a shame she had to die.

He took a deep breathing time before pouncing on his unsuspicious target. Her nipples still hard like pencil erasers and her pussy still slick down, and wet. He slipped the corduroy around her neck, and pulled.

Her emerald cat valium eyes flew open in surprise. She gasped and tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down with all his might. She began to slam dance about, her weapon flailing and her branch kicking, splashing water about every which way. Soaking his white jersey and mean fitting blue denim, with holes in the knee.

'' Do n't struggle child, it 'll be a lot gentle if you do n't struggle, '' he told her, a cruel grin spreading across his handsome cheek.

She began clawing at him and trying to bite him, desperate to justify herself. To deliver her living.

'' pudding head little bitch, '' he said angrily, as her tooth sunk into his hand. He pulled tighter on the cord. The hapless girl could n't breathe. Her optic widened in little terror. She knew she was about to die. Her large tits bobbed up and down as she struggled to disembarrass herself from his death suitcase.

He laughed at her. `` There 's no use in trying to get away sweetheart, '' he told her. He could smell her damp cunt. Smell her fright. He could palpate her eubstance quivering.

She struggled with all of her might, but she was no match for him. He was so much hard than she. A stream of scarlet began to filter from the fleck on his hand where she had sunk her teeth. Watching her struggle, made his cock swell. He was in double-dyed control. For once in his life he was the one in baron.

Finally after a few more kicking, her body shuddered one close time, and she succumbed. Her pass fell to the right, and her tongue protruded slightly from her oral cavity. Her hands fell helplessly at her side, and he released her, watching her disappear under the crystal clear water. Her eye were as boastfully as saucers. And her back talk had turned blue. A slight golden stream began trickling from her snatch. She had pissed herself.

He lifted her nude limp consistence from the tub, and slung her over his shoulders like a sack of white potato. He was stiff, thick and muscular. His chest as hard as a rock'n'roll. He carried her over to the bed, and laid her down gently. He stared down at her motionless body for a present moment, before spreading her legs as far as they would go. Her cunt was still glistening. Her lips still swollen and her clit still hard from her recent onanism.

'' Let me see that little cunt of your lulu, '' he said. He parted her swollen rim and brought his oral cavity to her pussy. Tasting her. He ran his natural language along her snatch lips. Tongue fucked her yap, and took her clit between his teeth, sucking on it. Devouring her cunt. Still lovesome and wet. He loved the taste sensation of pussycat. He could taste a pinch of weewee, smell it on her.

stopping, he stood and moved his throbbing cock toward her slump backtalk and rubbed the head of it against her lenient resistless mouth, against her pearly dentition then between her sassing until he was fully penetrating her throat.

Unable to take any more stimulation he came up from between her pegleg. He wanted to be in her. To make love to her. He rested each of her wooden leg atop her shoulders. And slid his toilsome prick inside her. Moving in and out of her, fucking her cunt, slowly at first, then faster and faster, with more determination. With Sir Thomas More passion. She stared lifelessly up at him as he pounded her snatch.

He leaned over and kissed her breasts, and moth-eaten blue backtalk, while he continued to impress in and out of her. And than he came. Hard and fast. Filling her to the rim, with a hot stream of his semen.

He lay there for a longsighted moment to take hold of his breath, to recover from his intense orgasm. Finally, silently, he pulled his jean back on and zipped then up. Looking down at her he stopped for a moment, then leaned down and kissed her once more.

'' Thanks for the proficient fuck sister, '' he said. Then he turned and walked to the door. Pausing for a moment he looked out into the Nox, ear and optic straining for anything out of the ordinary bicycle, then he was gone.

She lay there on her bed. Naked, coldness and all alone. Helpless, spread bird of Jove on the bed.

His insatiable appetite and overwhelming desire fulfilled, once again. At least for the present moment .