right of first publication 2019 by tcs1963

All right hand Reserved

'' blackamoor DOES N'T STAIN ''

by tcs1963

Her skin was picket E. B. White, almost to the percentage point of glowing. She was hitchhiking, with her finger stuck out like a well-lit guidepost. Her result arm cradling a lowly bundle very gently but protectively.

I noticed her because her skin contrasted against the dark night sky. Almost as if luring me to draw out over, like preteen children trusting the molester in a dirty white work van, holding a handful of confect.

I had never stopped to pick up hitchhikers before and as a matter of fact, I was always warned against it. But I literally could n't blow over this young gentlewoman by. Helping her seemed utterly paramount.

Her beauty called out to me like some sort of siren 's vocal. Making my anxious impression of veneration push to the back of my brain, along with my logic.

Along with her alabaster tegument, this young gentlewoman dressed very uniquely. Like she had stepped off the strawman of your dearie gothic or strong-armer rock-and-roll record album cover.

The faint breeze sweeping her hair across her face. The flowing raven black ringlet curling willy-nilly around her face. Making her look innocent but serious at the same meter.

Her tiny body was completely enveloped in a mordant leather duster case jacket, hanging down almost past her knees. Accenting the petty black dress underneath. It finished off her tough look like she could be in some kind of motorcycle club.

The only part of her that was neither dim nor white was her sassing, which were a deep roue red. Scary dark and wet like a uncivilized animal that had just eaten a rare art object of meat.

This odd combination of dress, which would have looked unnatural on anyone else, had the opposite word effect on her. So she was n't surprised that the first gear car that stopped held a man. An honest-to-god farmer style man to be exact.

'' Where ya going ? '' the old man yelled gruffly through an spread out window.

'' Anywhere, '' she softly muttered. Pulling the package in her arms tighter to her chest. `` Anywhere but here. ``

She walked up to the rusty putting surface motortruck doorway and paused, as though she was trying to settle whether to get in or not.

'' What are ya waiting for ? '' he said shoving the door open for her, `` Get in. ''

She smiled gratefully, her pointed teeth accidentally poking out between her lips. Then she slid into the bear leather seat.

'' So where are ya from ? '' he asked, looking down at her bare thighs with his eyes sparkling hungrily.

The woman just gestured with her head toward the timber and continued as if she were feeding the fry in her arms. Suckling noises coming across the seat, spurring the old Farmer 's resourcefulness of youth succulent breast.

'' Not very talkative are you ? '' the unkempt old farmer mumbled in a tone that was almost inaudible to himself. But she caught every syllable.

She just glared at the farmer, hunger and anger were getting the in force of her. Her eyes were pits of wickedness sparking with anger, as her instinct kicked into overdrive.

'' So how come you are wearing all contraband ? '' he asked. `` Did someone die or something ? ''

She gave him an odd look, partly puzzled and partly surprised. Thinking to herself that he was quite snoopy for his age, and then wondering if he would shout in fear.

But before she could serve his doubt, a piercing wail filled the air. It was coming from the bundle of material, clasped against her chest.

The inhuman wow continued as the woman began unraveling the textile. One layer off, then another, and another, until finally, the child was naked.

There, beneath all of those layers and blankets, lay a scrawny baby boy, not a particularly beautiful baby, but a baby all the same.

'' Ai n't ya going ta shut it up ? '' he yelled, just aloud enough that he could be heard over the baby 's wail.

'' He 's hungry, '' she stated abruptly.

The man looked at her expectantly, as though waiting for her to do something to quell the screaming infant.

She just sat there, her ghostly white breast resting on his lips. She was looking right back at him with that piercing gaze of hers.

With a sigh, the James Leonard Farmer leaned over and wiggled his pudgy fingers in front of the minor 's human face, trying to divert and pacify the child.

For a few seconds, it seemed to be working ; the little boy 's son of a bitch slowly quieted, and he began gazing hungrily at the old farmer 's cheating fingerbreadth.

The nestling watched them go back and forth. Then slowly the child opened his jaw widely and slammed it shut on the turgid of the man 's fingers. Severing his thumb.

The man screamed, slamming on the pasture brake. Cradling his hand and staring at what remained of his thumb in shock.

Within seconds the infant boy began wailing again, spitting out the remainder of the digit he had been gnawing on.

'' Now look what you 've done ! '' The lady shouted angrily.

She shoved the finger back into the baby 's mouth and began moving his jaw up and down, forcing him to chew it, the wholly time oblivious to the man 's endless screaming.

'' Do n't cerebrate I 've forgotten you, '' she said, turning to the man.

Her lyric were returned by his silence and a look of fear and confusion. His screaming silenced and he fumbled with the lock on his door.

Scrambling, he had almost gotten the door open when the cleaning woman grabbed his arm. His rakehell sheeting across the windshield.

The woman 's strong point surprising him, her steel-like bag was near out of the question to break. So his constant struggling to get some length, only made him weaker.

She nonchalantly brushed away the hair on his neck and dug her eye tooth into the smooth delicate soma of his throat.

In seconds he stopped struggling, semi-conscious. His eyes encompassing as he realized his luck was sealed.

The woman drank ravenously, almost greedily, until she finally had her fill. Her insatiable hunger sated for the time being

She then pressed the shaver 's lips against one of the two punctures that were still oozing blood droplets. The baby took two reluctant swallows and stopped his suckling.

She pressed the baby against his bloody throat, but to her vexation, he would not suckle anymore.

Reluctantly bundling up the baby, she turned to the door preparing to guide back into the woods.

On sec thought, she turned back around to look at the man, who was just awakening from unconsciousness.

'' You wanted to experience why I wear black ? '' The man groaned. A groan that the woman took for agreement.

Moving towards the woodwind she quipped, `` Because black does n't sully. ``

The End ...