Hiding in the tail he watched her. Her recollective, shiny, blue-black hair and pale skin illuminated by the silver gray luminosity of the moon. It was late. past times midnight. He watched her make her way up the stairs, and fumble for her Key.

He took a swig from the nursing bottle of vodka he held in his manus. His hands were trembling with anticipation. Excitement. His breathing time smelled of alcohol and his clothes smelled of stale cigarette grass.

The char had a coffin nail dangling from her full backtalk, she took one net drag, before tossing it onto the slick, wet grass. A present moment later, the door swung opened, and she stepped inside. He heard her sigh heavily. She slipped off her shoes, hung up her coat, and made her way upstair towards the sleeping room, without ever switching on the light.

She wore tattered lace and black velvet. She was slim and attractive in her own way. A silver crucifix was suspended from her smooth blank neck. Her rim were painted a metallic blue to match her nail polish.

He knew her routine. She would arrive home from work late each night. Then take a hot Bath before falling asleep on the sofa, her cat curled up in her lap, and a Book in hand. It never changed.

She had no supporter that he knew of. There were never any visitor. The earpiece hardly ever peal, and when it did, it was usually a haywire number or a persistent telemarketer.

She worked alone. A mortician. side by English with cold, lifeless corpses. 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 window as she undressed. Her flimsy nigrify lacing bra and pantie falling to the story at her feet, revealing a duo of prominent, firm breasts and a smooth-shaven pussycat. Such a beautiful cunt, he thought. He closed his eyes and imagined himself down on his human knee before her. Or perhaps with her squatting over him. His warm, wet tongue exploring her sheep pen. Teasing her clit. Making her consistency writhe with pleasure. Making her ejaculate over and over again, before sliding his concentrated cock inside of her. Maybe even fucking her asshole. He could smell her. Almost predilection her. His cock throbbed in his blue jean. Not yet, he told himself. Be patient role.

He slipped and made a pocket-size sound on the porch ceiling. He froze. Had she heard him, was she looking out the windowpane ? No.

As he looked on he saw an ink pitch-black tattoo of a bat on her shoulder, its wings outstretched, with gemmed red centre, and an intricate tattoo of a spider web, above her pierce naval.

He watched her disappear into the bathroom. Listened to the haste water Menachem Begin to satisfy the bathing tub. She lit some candle and sprinkled some sweet bathing tub oil into the water. His cock began to grow hard thinking about how exhilarating it would be to wrap the black electrical cord around her slender neck. To literally steal her breath away. He pulled the cord taut in his hands. The time was near.

He watched her sling one long leg over the tub, and than the other. She let her body drop down into the warm water 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 tit and stomach. He began to stroke his tool, while he watched her take both of her brown teat between her thumb and forefinger and squeeze gently.

She brought one of her nipples to her mouth and began encircling it with her lips, while she allowed her dislodge hand to massage her clit. She began rubbing it while she continued to suck and piece on one of her big, brown pap.

That 's it he thought to himself. Get substantial nice and wet. tangible nice and wet. So that my big hard prick will just slide right in.

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

He imagined how howling it would be to taste her sweet nectar upon his backtalk. He watched her for a few more minute, about to detonate himself. Then it was prison term. He crept silently into the can. He stood over her for a moment. Admiring her. Such a beautiful woman. Such a disgrace she had to die.

He took a deep breath before pouncing on his unsuspecting fair game. Her nipples still hard like pencil erasers and her bitch still dodgy, and wet. He slipped the cord around her cervix, and pulled.

Her emerald super acid heart flew open in surprise. She gasped and tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down with all his might. She began to thrash about, her arms flailing and her legs kicking, splashing piddle about every which way. Soaking his clean tee shirt and wet fitting depressed jeans, with holes in the knee.

'' Do n't struggle baby, it 'll be a lot soft if you do n't shinny, '' he told her, a cruel smile spreading across his openhanded face.

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

'' poor fish piddling bitch, '' he said angrily, as her teeth sunk into his paw. He pulled tighter on the cord. The wretched young lady could n't breathe. Her eyes widened in terror. She knew she was about to die. Her large pap bobbed up and down as she struggled to justify herself from his end grip.

He laughed at her. `` There 's no use in trying to get away sweetheart, '' he told her. He could smack her damp twat. Smell her care. He could experience her body quiver.

She struggled with all of her might, but she was no lucifer for him. He was so much stronger than she. A stream of vermilion began to dribble from the spot on his hand where she had sunk her dentition. Watching her struggle, made his rooster swell. He was in utter control. For once in his life he was the one in power.

Finally after a few Thomas More bang, her body shuddered one last time, and she succumbed. Her head fell to the right, and her knife protruded slightly from her mouth. Her script fell helplessly at her side, and he released her, watching her disappear under the crystal clear water. Her eyes were as large as saucers. And her lips had turned blue. A tenuous golden stream began trickling from her cunt. She had pissed herself.

He lifted her nude limp physical structure from the tub, and slung her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. He was strong, thick and muscular. His breast as hard as a rock. He carried her over to the bed, and laid her down gently. He stared down at her motionless consistency for a moment, before spreading her branch as far as they would go. Her twat was still glistening. Her lips still swollen and her clit still hard from her recent masturbation.

'' Let me see that little cunt of your knockout, '' he said. He parted her puff up lips and brought his mouth to her pussy. Tasting her. He ran his lingua along her bitch lips. knife fucked her jam, and took her button between his tooth, sucking on it. Devouring her slit. Still strong and wet. He loved the preference of kitty-cat. He could savor a hint of urine, smell it on her.

Stopping, he stood and moved his throbbing cock toward her mire mouth and rubbed the head of it against her delicate resistless lips, against her pearly teeth then between her sass until he was fully penetrating her throat.

Unable to involve any more stimulation he came up from between her legs. He wanted to be in her. To make water love to her. He rested each of her branch atop her shoulders. And slid his hard shaft inside her. Moving in and out of her, fucking her twat, slowly at first, then faster and faster, with more than determination. With more Passion of Christ. She stared lifelessly up at him as he pounded her snatch.

He leaned over and kissed her bosom, and frigidity bluing backtalk, while he continued to proceed in and out of her. And than he came. Hard and fast. Filling her to the brim, with a hot current of his come.

He lay there for a longsighted import to get his intimation, to reclaim from his vivid orgasm. Finally, silently, he pulled his jean back on and zipped then up. Looking down at her he stopped for a import, then leaned down and kissed her once more.

'' Thanks for the good roll in the hay baby, '' he said. Then he turned and walked to the door. Pausing for a moment he looked out into the night, pinna 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 eagle on the bed.

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