Linda 'S Demise


Fantasy
Linda slumped back on the bed, one big tit slipping out of her dim bra as her principal hit the pillows. She leaned back heavily, as I watched her consistency going hitch from the door of the bathroom.

"I'm really fucked up…."she slurred.

The drinkable I had fixed her was doing the job, she was nearly out.

As I looked at her plump body I thought back on the in force part of the past year.

We had been getting together at least once a month at hotels and occasionally her dumpy rental house to get high and roll in the hay.

She had seen one of my fake profile on kindling and commented on my cock motion-picture show. She shared a photograph of her pussy backtalk open like a butterfly and her big soft-looking breast - and I agreed to meet.

She insisted we keep it on the down low and met at hotel rooms due to her on again off again boyfriend, and I had no problem with that.

She was unretentive, dark haired, chunky, and did n't seem to experience any friends. She definitely was bored with the flow dude and was always ready to get uncanny. The first meter we fucked was amazing. She got gamey and I took some E and we fucked for a couple of hours straight. She came at to the lowest degree five clip, once as I sat back on the frame watching her while she sat on a huge dildo and sucked my cock.

We would get senior high school and watch porn on the big TV in the sustenance way while I licked her clit or she laid her caput on my breadbasket, watching the screen as she sucked my dick. Her pussy was amazing - the sass were wide and total. She would lie back, lift her pegleg, extract her stomach back so I could suck those lips and get my lingua inside her.

While eating her out I would slide her favorite underweight glass dildo into her stern and lick her clit until she was quaking with orgasms.

It was n't just me. She would present me polaroid pic of her sassing on a random cock in some beau 's car, the back of her head between some doll 's legs eating her pussy or a load of cum dripping out of her slit. It was insane.

Her place was a dump and she was a disaster ; no job, no acquisition - just that talented puss. I should experience wondered where all the money was coming from.

One night she showed me a ginger nut of a naked skinny blonde in her 60's. Linda said that she was a neighbor a few doors down and would come over, get luxuriously and fuck her when no one else would suffice her belated night text edition pleading for sex.

"I toss her a century buck and she eats my pussy while I get high and watch porn !"she told me.

She laughed and told me that her boyfriend got soaked when he saw that pic.

I made a mental notation of the kinship and her fellow 's reaction.

A few months into this I found out her beau was a trucker and a drug dealer on the position, carried a gun and kept his stash at the place. I wanted to cool it, but the sex was just too right.

I kept hooking up with her when he was out of town. I made sure she did n't know my real figure, I never drove my car to the house or even carried my ID there.

She didn't seem to care, or notice.

Then it started to get really weird. First was the Death of her sometime lover, the skinny blonde chick down the street.

Linda said she"fell down the stairs and broke her neck"but I knew she had been raped, strangled and her blank space robbed.

One day Linda began making crazy demands of me. Asking me to deteriorate off packages, or prepare pick ups at the Greyhound place for her.

One Nox she texted my burner phone with a blackmail scourge. When I laughed that off she threatened to tell her young man I had raped her and have him kill me.

It was time to get out, and I had been planning this night for some prison term.

She called me a few nights later after she cooled off to excuse and pop the question some"composition sex"if I could meet up.

I agreed, and said I would meet her at her firm.

She was already eminent and happy to sit back and wait for me.

I hung up the burner cadre that I used for her outcry, checked my kit and headed out to catch the bus.

When I arrived at the letting house the swain 's rig was in figurehead, but she had assured me that he was on an out-of-state drug run with friends and would be gone for a few years.

I made us some drinks.

"You're dressed like a homeless guy."she observed.

"Just dug an old coating out of the wardrobe. It's getting cold out."I said, deflecting a bit. I was wearing a hoodie under the old crownwork, nonde*********** shoes and jeans.

Now she was on the bed, nearly passed out.

"What the shtup are you doing ”, she slurred,"come to bed and know me ”.

"Get naked for me, babe ”, I replied"I'll be right there"

I had just finished wiping the john for my mark, I was also biding my clock time waiting for the MM I put in her drink to kick in.

She loved to suck my cock, but this time I could n't leave that to happen.

I hadn't planned on fucking her the night I took care of her ; but the estimate of dispatching her with my tool inside her was irresistible, but bad.

My stopcock was rock hard now as I pulled the natural covering back and saw her inactive nude trunk. Her panties had made it down to around her ankles before she passed out.

Her legs were spread slightly, her shaved pussy lips parted.

I knelt between her leg and pulled the black thong off.

I already had a rubber-base paint condom on my shaft, coated with the lube from the pump bottle she kept by the bed.

On my hands were calamitous medical grade latex gloves.

She murmured something as I opened her ramification, wiped some lubricating substance on her cunt and slue my cock into her.

She stirred slightly, responding to the sensation of my hard cock sliding between those lip and I gave her a few minutes of slow deep strokes before I leaned forward and wrapped both gloved script around her pharynx.

She responded weakly and as I continued stroking her cunt I increased the pressure around her cervix.

Her oculus fluttered open wide, and she made an attempt to sit up but her body was n't obeying - she tried to grab me but I had slipped cotton plant gloves on her hands while she was unconscious making her fingerbreadth as uneffective as wearing mittens.

She was gasping for air now and I felt the sensation of her pussy tightening and releasing around my hammer as she weakly kicked her pegleg.

Her body convulsed, her gloved hands went around my articulatio radiocarpea trying to force my digit from her neck opening.

Her leg were wide open, her back arching, her hands moved up my carpus to my shoulders, almost as if she was trying to appease me or score me.

Her big breast jiggled and rolled, the nipples hard.

Her mouth was open, just a rasping sound escaping as she struggled for air. Her eyes were looking at something just over my articulatio humeri, as her body, starved of O, began to experience hallucinations. I felt her body loose a bit, and I loosened my hold, keeping her on the border, her oxygen deprived brain drifting.

As I stroked her, I felt her pussycat spasming, her body orgasming involuntarily in this near Death dream state.

Her all-embracing dark brown eyes caught mine and she began to get soft, pleading sounds.

I gave her cervix a few rough handshaking, like a Wolf shaking a coney in its mouth. Her head flopped back onto the pillows allowing me to set my clasp.

After a few minutes of my hands around her neck she became wilted, except for the occasional involuntary convulsion that ran like a small electric current through her dead body.

I could feel her twat gripping my cock with each small convulsion, each earth tremor a small twitch of her cunt walls.

Her hands had released their grasp and her blazon fell off to the slope and were still. Her legs spread wide, my dick still spearing her pussy. Her big body flopped like a rag doll as I stroked it.

It had been about 10 transactions since she cobbler's last made a phone or responded to my thrusting. I paused and touched the side of her neck opening to check for a pulse rate.

She was lifeless.

I leaned back to rest my arms and looked at my big pecker inside her still body

I double checked the condom fit and slowly picked up the pace ; thrusting into her pussy with my paw now gripping her big pap.

Her doll eyes were fixed on the ceiling, mouth open slightly, completely still.

I felt my sexual climax building with the realization that I was fucking a woman that was no long living.

I moved one gloved handwriting to her neck and squeezed.

My orgasm began shuddering through me in a series of vivid waving. A lading of cum pulsed safely into the condom.

I carefully held my rooster still in her kitty until my orgasm faded.

I held the base of the safe and slowly pulled the length of my shaft out of her.

Holding the condom on my cock I walked into the bath and slowly pulled it off over the toilette water.

It was bulging with cum and I made sure the knot I tied into it was secure.

I placed the condom and its wrapper into a zip-lock baggie and put it in the backpack.

I flushed the toilet, got dressed carefully and went back into the bedroom.

Linda's exanimate soundbox was sprawled out on the bed as I had left her, a trail of lube and her own succus oozing out of her cunt and pooling on the sheet, her obscure Brown University eyes still open and staring.

Maybe I was being paranoid, but I checked her pulsate one more time, on the neck, then the inside of the second joint.

She was dead.

I ran a gloved deal over one of her big knocker and rolled a nipple between my fingers.

I started to get aroused again, and had to remind myself that it was business concern clock time.

She hadn't sucked my cock, or even kissed me, so no DNA would be found in her mouth.

I checked her consistency for my pilus, a drop curtain of sweat or a bit of saliva ; but I had been careful.

Nothing.

I slipped the cotton gardening baseball mitt off her hands and bagged them. No DNA under those fingernails.

I went through her bag and found a roll of about two-hundred bucks, took it and spilled the contents of the bag on the floor.

One night while high she bragged about a stash in a compartment in the closet. It didn't fill me recollective to find oneself it. It was crudely cut in the level and covered with a piece of carpet.

I cleaned out the coke, meth, udder of pharmaceutic and about two grand in immediate payment.

There was a loaded .32 Sat Night Special in the drawer by the bed along with some sess, which I left.

I knew the swain had just been at the place just two dark ago and I hoped he had left some good prints in the area I avoided.

She rarely washed the sheets, so I was surefooted they would find his semen there, maybe even some from her friend the dead skinny blonde.

I took the chicken feed we drank from and washed and dried them, placing them back into the closet.

Finally I took a duo of pink panties and jewelry out of a zip-lock baggie and tossed them in the now hollow water closet floor hoard.

They belonged to Linda's ex-lover, the skinny blonde, who I had strangled two calendar month ago.

Not only did Linda 's boyfriend have a motive for killing her, he now was tied to two murder with physical evidence.

l stood at the room access and took a last look at the Interior Department of the little household. In my head teacher I ran over each item, each point in my back pack and only when I was satisfied that no one could ever find evidence I had ever been there I closed the door behind me and felt it lock.

The small stead was isolated, the street dark, and I also knew there were no cameras or nosy neighbour. I strolled down the street to a bus plosive consonant about a couple of miles away.

It was sinister but still early ; zip odd about someone going out for a walk ; but the streets were placid.

At a large sewerage grate on a face street I opened the zip-lock with the condom and tossed it in, along with the drugs, baseball glove and burner cell.

My iPhone was at my planetary house and if I was ever connected to her, however unbelievable, my alibi was being created.

Three days later a ally found the body and the boyfriend was arrested immediately.

It turned out he had an arrest record for forcing himself on her a few times and slapping her around.

The missing drugs and hard cash were assumed to be her doing and his motivation.

His prints and DNA were all over the post, his truck was full of drugs and his gun was a violation of his parole.

The DNA on the garden pink pantie and the jewellery tied him to the skinny blonde up the street, as I planned.

They already were looking at the two of them for that murder, this linked them to it.

The cops took a cause of death off the street and closed the al-Qur'an.

I buried the immediate payment for a rainy day.

I kept her stack of anonymous Polaroid pics, just for old time sake .
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