Honest Hunting, Sarah


Gothic, Monster
She could have pretended the showtime time was a fluke. Self-defense, like she told herself the next morning. For the next few hebdomad even ; until, honestly, it had happened again. And again. And again, all in one week, during the electric storm that plagued her city. She couldn't pretend it was a fluke anymore.

Sarah preened in the reflection of a close up bar shop windowpane. She studied her glorious blue hair- well, not so bright anymore. The semblance had gradually bled from her locks, betraying the streaked dark blond she tried to obscure. Her smear eyeshadow looked like two bruises on either side of meat of her nozzle in the swoon light. Johnston Street was poorly lit so late in the evening ; the taproom and their caterwauling business were another three stoppage over. The only edifice of any note on the street was the populace library and it'd been shuttered since six.

There was a sudden skirmish from the corner of the road.

Sarah's wet eyes whipped to the sound. A staggering, lumpy shadow straightened a toppled trash bin and cursed. Loudly, slurred. The stream of consciousness, just out of earshot, was interrupted by a peal of queasy laughter. The drab grimace of the fig turned towards the char by the strip plaza, across the diminished parking lot.

"‘ Aye, you !"

It happened again. stemma rushed to Sarah's header, filling her ears with static. Her common sense strained- no, they sharpened. She could taste his virulent sweat on the breeze, smell his boozey breath. His heart meter slowly in his throat. She could practically feel his pulse under her fingertips already. Under her sass. He was still yards away but she could try him in the backrest of her rima oris.

The drunk stumbled forward, propelled by something unknowable to Sarah. If she'd moved her optic from the man to the windowpane she would have understood ; as her lungs filled with the fetor of him she seemed to blow up. Her gimp haircloth shined and floated around her glowing fount, illuminated by her round downhearted eye. They literally gleamed, lit from within like a whitening bug. She bared her teeth and curled her fingerbreadth into claws. Her thorax heaved under her t-shirt. Every new breath filled her with increased ardour. Every time she breathed, he was drawn further into her go.

He flew across the parking lot into her munition. Or rather, he dragged her into his weapon and flung them both into the window. His hands fumbled their way under her sweater over the clotheshorse of her breasts and the flimsy bra hiding them from his molestation. As the unknown groped her Sarah lowered her expression to his neck and sniffed, deep. He stank of tatty liquor and cigaret, dirty linoleum and- cocaine, perhaps ? That was new. New was fun. Sarah hovered over his vena jugularis, panting, starving, and the stranger finally yanked her bra down and pinched her stiff tit.

With a snarl Sarah sunk her teeth into the man's throat. Her eye tooth elongated, piercing his pulsating flesh with razor-sharp spot. He shuddered as his tegument tore then quickly stilled and brought one hand down to Sarah's doll. When he lifted it over her hip there was zero else in the way of his searching finger ; by now Sarah knew not to wear panties. They only got in the way.

Sarah's eye fluttered shut as the first drop of the man's blood hit her spit and his fingertips skimmed her wet hole. He tasted as bad as he stank but the crisp relish of his roue was already turning Sarah's foreland. Rum was so much hard filtered through an dipsomaniac. Sarah's teeth retracted, releasing a splurt of coppery blood. She flicked her tongue against the punctures on the man's neck, irritating the vessels.

"Fuck,"he moaned, his bureau vibrating against Sarah's. He rammed three fingerbreadth into her pussy unceremoniously and hooked his hired man against her crotch. The butt of his palm rasped against her throbbing clitoris.

Sarah pulled away from his throat."Sir Thomas More,"She admonished, and the man obeyed without waver. He rubbed her clit with one hand and shirked his pants with the other, exposing himself. He was already hard, a slight unsatisfying in girth but tidy sum long. Sarah allowed him to shore her leg up on his arm and he thrust into her, grunting. Blood seeped from the lesion on his cervix, soaking the collar of his body of work shirt. His name was stitched onto the pocket but Sarah hadn't bothered to face.

Sarah licked the pedigree dripping down his throat and latched onto his punctures again. As she sucked he fucked, pounding their pelvic arch against the windowpane. Her inside burned but it wasn't enough ; her sexual climax flirted just out of reach. Almost as soon as she'd thought it the man reached down between them and slid two digit into her pussy, skewering her on his hand and cock. She moaned into his throat and he slipped another finger's breadth into her hot, sopping hollow.

Sarah's teeth descended again as her flood tide neared. She writhed her hips onto the stranger's shaft and hand, working her clit against his thumb. She was stuffed full phase of the moon, almost- She was so close-

The man slurped beside her ear then something prodded her rump. The man pulled her closer, deeper, and first one, then two, fingerbreadth popped into her tight arse. She bit down hard on the man's neck opening as her pussy spasmed. Hot pedigree splattered her pharynx, covering the waste gargling screams she released. The man hollered, his voice echoing down the street, but Sarah was too enthralled in her own go to notice. She didn't even notice when her dentition closed, clicking against each other, while she tore straight through the man's neck. She clutched his still body to her until her sexual climax subsided then let his utterly weight drop.

Sarah spat charge form and gore. Her promiscuous sweater was coated in blood, hanging heavy on her shoulders, and her skirt was hiked over her au naturel hip. She straightened her clothing, fruitlessly wiped her stained mouth against her forearm, and walked away from the man's hobble torso. She wasn't entirely certain he was abruptly, but it didn't matter. The animation ones didn't remember her.

Sarah hadn't told herself it wouldn't happen again in a while. There was really no point. One way or another, somebody else would curve up inside her and she'd feast again. She had to. It felt too thoroughly to barricade .
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