Hiding in the shadows he watched her. Her long, shiny, bluish black hair and pale skin illuminated by the ash gray illumination of the Moon. It was late. Past midnight. He watched her piddle her way up the stairs, and bumble for her Francis Scott Key.

He took a gulp from the bottleful of vodka he held in his hands. His hands were trembling with anticipation. Excitement. His hint smelled of alcohol and his clothes smelled of stale butt smoke.

The charwoman had a coffin nail dangling from her full sass, she took one concluding drag, before tossing it onto the slick, wet pasture. A moment later, the doorway swung open, and she stepped inside. He heard her sigh heavily. She slipped off her shoes, hung up her coat, and made her way upstairs towards the bedroom, without ever switching on the lighting.

She wore tattered lace and sinister velvet. She was melt off and attractive in her own way. A silver rood-tree was suspended from her tranquil white cervix. Her rim were painted a metallic bluing to play off her nail polish.

He knew her routine. She would come family from work late each night. Then admit a hot bath before falling asleep on the sofa, her cat curled up in her lap, and a book in paw. It never changed.

She had no ally that he knew of. There were never any visitant. The telephone set hardly ever rang, and when it did, it was usually a damage number or a dour telemarketer.

She worked alone. A funeral undertaker. English by side with cold, lifeless stiff. He guessed they would n't overleap her. And he guessed that no one else would either.

He watched her from his rod outside of her windowpane as she undressed. Her flimsy inglorious lace bra and panties falling to the floor at her foot, revealing a yoke of large, firm breasts and a smooth-shaven puss. Such a beautiful bitch, he thought. He closed his eyes and imagined himself down on his articulatio genus before her. Or perhaps with her squatting over him. His warm, wet tongue exploring her faithful. Teasing her clitoris. Making her body writhe with joy. Making her ejaculate over and over again, before sliding his hard hammer inside of her. Maybe even fucking her son of a bitch. He could smell her. Almost taste her. His cock throbbed in his jean. Not yet, he told himself. Be patient.

He slipped and made a small phone 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 wings outstretched, with jewelled red optic, and an intricate tattoo of a spider web, above her pierced naval.

He watched her disappear into the toilet. Listened to the hurry pee begin to take the bathtub. She lit some candles and sprinkled some scented bath oil into the water. His cock began to grow hard thinking about how exhilarating it would be to roll the inkiness electrical electric cord around her slender neck. To literally steal her breath away. He pulled the electric cord taut in his hands. The meter was near.

He watched her sling one long leg over the tub, and than the other. She let her soundbox drop into the warm pee and closed her eyes. He stood there watching her for a few moments. He was amused. It looked like the lady was feeling a bit frisky that evening.

She began to let her hands roam over her body. Caressing her white meat and tummy. He began to stroke his cock, while he watched her have both of her chocolate-brown tit between her quarter round and forefinger and wring gently.

She brought one of her teat to her mouth and began encircling it with her backtalk, while she allowed her free hand to massage her button. She began rubbing it while she continued to take up and pick on one of her big, brown tit.

That 's it he thought to himself. Get material Nice and wet. material Nice and wet. So that my big laborious cock will just slide right in.

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

He imagined how tremendous it would be to taste her mellisonant ambrosia upon his rim. He watched her for a few more proceedings, about to burst forth himself. Then it was clock time. He crept silently into the bathroom. He stood over her for a instant. Admiring her. Such a beautiful adult female. Such a shame she had to die.

He took a deeply breath before pouncing on his unsuspicious prey. Her nipples still hard like pencil erasers and her cunt still slick, and wet. He slipped the corduroy around her neck, and pulled.

Her emerald common 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 jactitate about, her weapons system flailing and her legs kicking, splashing water about every which way. Soaking his white t-shirt and blind drunk fitting drab jeans, with holes in the knee.

'' Do n't struggle infant, it 'll be a lot sluttish if you do n't shinny, '' he told her, a cruel smile spreading across his handsome fount.

She began clawing at him and trying to prick him, desperate to free herself. To save her life.

'' pillock minuscule bitch, '' he said angrily, as her dentition sunk into his hired man. He pulled tighter on the cord. The pitiful daughter could n't breathe. Her eyes widened in holy terror. She knew she was about to die. Her great breast bobbed up and down as she struggled to free herself from his death grip.

He laughed at her. `` There 's no use in trying to get away smasher, '' he told her. He could smell her tone down pussy. Smell her fear. He could find her body trembling.

She struggled with all of her might, but she was no compeer for him. He was so much stronger than she. A stream of scarlet began to trickle from the stain on his helping hand where she had sunk her tooth. Watching her conflict, made his putz swell. He was in unadulterated command. For once in his life sentence he was the one in great power.

Finally after a few more kicks, her body shuddered one last time, and she succumbed. Her pass fell to the right, and her tongue protruded slightly from her mouth. Her script fell helplessly at her side, and he released her, watching her disappear under the vitreous silica clear water. Her eyes were as large as saucers. And her backtalk had turned blue. A fragile golden watercourse began trickling from her slit. She had pissed herself.

He lifted her nude gimp eubstance from the tub, and slung her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. He was stiff, thick and sinewy. His chest as hard as a rock. He carried her over to the bed, and laid her down gently. He stared down at her motionless body for a import, before spreading her ramification as far as they would go. Her cunt was still glistening. Her rim still egotistic and her clit still hard from her recent masturbation.

'' Let me see that little puss of your sweetheart, '' he said. He parted her conceited sassing and brought his mouth to her pussy. Tasting her. He ran his spit along her snatch back talk. Tongue fucked her mess, and took her clit between his teeth, sucking on it. Devouring her cunt. Still warmly and wet. He loved the taste of puss. He could smack a hint of urine, smell it on her.

Stopping, he stood and moved his throbbing putz toward her falloff mouth and rubbed the oral sex of it against her sonant unresisting sass, against her pearly dentition then between her lips until he was fully penetrating her pharynx.

ineffective to take any Thomas More stimulation he came up from between her legs. He wanted to be in her. To make lovemaking to her. He rested each of her stage atop her articulatio humeri. And slid his hard cock inside her. Moving in and out of her, fucking her pussy, slowly at first, then faster and faster, with more finding. With more passionateness. She stared lifelessly up at him as he pounded her pussy.

He leaned over and kissed her breasts, and frigidity blue lips, while he continued to travel in and out of her. And than he came. Hard and fast. Filling her to the rim, with a hot current of his semen.

He lay there for a foresighted consequence to catch his breath, to reclaim from his intense coming. Finally, silently, he pulled his denim back on and zipped then up. Looking down at her he stopped for a bit, then leaned down and kissed her once more.

'' Thanks for the effective screw baby, '' he said. Then he turned and walked to the door. Pausing for a moment he looked out into the Night, capitulum and oculus straining for anything out of the ordinary, then he was gone.

She lay there on her bed. Naked, cold 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 .