Hiding in the phantasm he watched her. Her long, shiny, blue-black hair and pale tegument illuminated by the silver light of the lunation. It was late. Past midnight. He watched her make her way up the step, and fumble for her Key.

He took a swig from the nursing bottle of vodka he held in his custody. His hands were trembling with prevision. inflammation. His breath smelled of alcohol and his clothes smelled of stale cigarette smoke.

The woman had a fag dangling from her full phase of the moon lips, she took one final exam drag, before tossing it onto the slipperiness, wet grass. A moment later, the door 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 visible light.

She wore tattered lace and blackamoor velvet. She was slim and attractive in her own way. A silver grey crucifix was suspended from her smooth white neck opening. Her rim were painted a metallic blueing to meet her collar round off.

He knew her modus operandi. She would come home from workplace late each dark. Then take a hot bath before falling asleep on the lounge, her cat curled up in her lap, and a book of account in hand. It never changed.

She had no friends that he knew of. There were never any visitors. The phone hardly ever call, and when it did, it was usually a damage telephone number or a relentless telemarketer.

She worked alone. A funeral director. face by side of meat with cold, lifeless corpses. He guessed they would n't omit her. And he guessed that no one else would either.

He watched her from his perch outside of her window as she undressed. Her slight black lacing bra and panties falling to the floor at her groundwork, revealing a span of with child, unfaltering breasts and a clean-shaven pussy. Such a beautiful slit, he thought. He closed his eyes and imagined himself down on his stifle before her. Or perhaps with her squat over him. His warm, wet spit exploring her folds. Teasing her clitoris. Making her dead body writhe with pleasure. Making her seminal fluid over and over again, before sliding his hard cock inside of her. Maybe even fucking her cocksucker. He could smack her. Almost taste her. His prick throbbed in his jeans. Not yet, he told himself. Be patient.

He slipped and made a modest 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 black tattoo of a bat on her articulatio humeri, its wings outstretched, with beady red eyes, and an intricate tattoo of a spider web, above her punctured naval.

He watched her disappear into the toilet. Listened to the rush water Begin to fill the bathtub. She lit some taper and sprinkled some perfume bath oil into the water. His cock began to develop hard thinking about how stimulating it would be to wrap the pitch-dark electrical corduroy around her slender neck opening. To literally steal her breath away. He pulled the cord 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 settle into the lovesome water and closed her heart. 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 script roam over her torso. Caressing her boob and tum. He began to stroke his cock, while he watched her guide both of her brown mammilla between her thumb and forefinger and squeeze gently.

She brought one of her nipple to her mouth and began encircling it with her lips, while she allowed her barren hand to massage her button. She began rubbing it while she continued to suck and nibble on one of her big, brown tit.

That 's it he thought to himself. Get literal dainty and wet. Real dainty and wet. So that my big firmly rooster will just slip right in.

keeping her pollex on her clitoris, she inserted two fingerbreadth inside of herself. Rubbing her button harder and faster, fingers 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 rattling it would be to taste her sweet nectar upon his back talk. He watched her for a few more minutes, about to blow up himself. Then it was time. He crept silently into the lavatory. He stood over her for a second. Admiring her. Such a beautiful charwoman. Such a shame she had to die.

He took a recondite hint before pouncing on his unsuspecting target. Her nipples still hard like pencil erasers and her cunt still tricksy, and wet. He slipped the cord around her cervix, and pulled.

Her emerald green middle flew undetermined in surprise. She gasped and tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down with all his might. She began to clobber about, her arms flailing and her legs boot, splashing water about every which way. Soaking his white T-shirt and tight fitting patrician blue jean, with trap in the human knee.

'' Do n't contend sister, it 'll be a lot easier if you do n't clamber, '' he told her, a cruel smiling spreading across his handsome face.

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

'' Stupid piddling kick, '' he said angrily, as her teeth sunk into his hand. He pulled tighter on the cord. The short girl could n't breathe. Her eyes widened in little terror. She knew she was about to die. Her large titmouse bobbed up and down as she struggled to unloosen herself from his Death clutch.

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 veneration. He could feel her body trembling.

She struggled with all of her might, but she was no peer for him. He was so much stronger than she. A stream of orange red began to dribble from the spot on his hand where she had sunk her tooth. Watching her conflict, made his cock clotheshorse. He was in everlasting control. For once in his life he was the one in power.

Finally after a few Sir Thomas More kick, her body shuddered one last time, and she succumbed. Her headway fell to the right, and her tongue protruded slightly from her mouth. Her bridge player fell helplessly at her side, and he released her, watching her disappear under the crystal assoil pee. Her eyes were as large as saucers. And her lips had turned blue. A thin favorable stream began trickling from her cunt. She had pissed herself.

He lifted her nude limp body from the tub, and slung her over his shoulders like a sack of white potato. He was strong, thick-skulled and muscular. His chest of drawers as hard as a John Rock. He carried her over to the bed, and laid her down gently. He stared down at her motionless trunk for a consequence, before spreading her peg as far as they would go. Her snatch was still glistening. Her mouth still swollen and her button still hard from her recent masturbation.

'' Let me see that footling cunt of your sweetheart, '' he said. He parted her swollen sassing and brought his mouth to her twat. Tasting her. He ran his tongue along her bitch lips. lingua fucked her hole, and took her clit between his teeth, sucking on it. Devouring her cunt. Still quick and wet. He loved the discernment of pussy. He could smack a hint of pee, smell it on her.

stopping, he stood and moved his throbbing peter toward her slump mouth and rubbed the pass of it against her easygoing unresisting lips, against her pearly teeth then between her back talk until he was fully penetrating her throat.

ineffective to read any more stimulus he came up from between her legs. He wanted to be in her. To make dear to her. He rested each of her legs atop her shoulders. And slid his hard hammer inside her. Moving in and out of her, fucking her cunt, slowly at first, then faster and faster, with more determination. With more than passion. She stared lifelessly up at him as he pounded her kitty-cat.

He leaned over and kissed her titty, and cold blue lip, while he continued to move in and out of her. And than he came. Hard and fast. Filling her to the brim, with a hot stream of his seminal fluid.

He lay there for a foresighted instant to catch his breathing spell, 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 second, then leaned down and kissed her once more.

'' Thanks for the good fuck child, '' he said. Then he turned and walked to the door. Pausing for a consequence he looked out into the Night, ears and optic 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 unsatiable appetency and overwhelming desire fulfilled, once again. At to the lowest degree for the moment .