Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I can smell her but I can’t see her, which is strange since the room is only fifteen by thirty feet. I know she is watching me. I can feel her eyes watching every move I make, flickering from the pen I am holding to any movement from my body. If I do anything that she hasn’t told me to do, it is over. It might be anyway, I might be dead when I have finished writing, I don’t know and at this point, I am not sure I care. All I know is that the last twenty-four hours have made me a believer in something bigger than us. There has to be, or who else could create the creature I am sharing this hotel room with? Who in his or right mind would come up with something so beautiful but yet so ugly, and so full of evil? I considered myself a bad person before yesterday. I have killed, I have maimed, and I have done things most people couldn’t even dream up. I am a serial killer, and I have killed across America for the past ten years and have never been caught, not even close, not ones. I pick my victims and I kill him or her fast and ruthlessly. It gives me a kick like no drug I have ever tried. The creature, she tortures you, she makes you love her and adore her. You are in love within minutes of meeting her, then you are enthralled by her, and you will do anything she asks off you, anything at all. The only thing going through your mind is that you don’t want her to leave you, to choose someone else. At the same time she sucks the life out of you, she leaves you begging for more while you feel your heart has almost stopped beating. You believe that you are taking your last breath, but your cock is still hard, your body is still yearning for her touch, her kisses, and her perfect cunt. Let me start at the beginning of my end. ***** The road ahead of me shimmered in the midday sun and around me there was nothing but flat land and bushes. Arizona was burning hot and so was I. The car I drove, a 1978 Mustang had no air conditioner. I don’t know if it ever worked, but when I stole it two days before it didn’t. I was on my way to the West Coast because I felt like taking care of some rich folks, I love killing rich people. They look so different than poor people in their last moment before death. I guess poor people have less to live for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them actually thanked me at that last minute before their life ran out of them. Rich people, on the other hand, have so much to live for, their money, the houses, boats, private planes and expensive cars. When their moment comes and they realize it will all be over, that look is unbeatable. They have lived their lives as if nothing can touch them, nothing at all. Then I come along and fuck up their day; I love it. The gas light came on, and I swore under my breath as I lit another cigarette. I had seen a sign two hours earlier saying I would reach a small town after 120 miles and there would be a gas station there. I hoped it was true because I didn’t feel like walking in the heat. Suddenly, I saw a figure walking on the right side of the road, and I slowed down a little. The person had their thumb out, but I had no intention of picking up a hitchhiker. When you are a serial killer you try to avoid people, except the ones you are going to kill of course. I slowed down more and past the figure doing maybe forty miles an hour. As I did, I looked over and the person looked at me. It was a woman, well, a girl-woman. I only caught sight of her face, and through the dust and grit, I figured she was in her early twenties, at the most. Then I had an urge to help, so I stopped. I sat still in the car, the engine still running. I knew I shouldn’t be doing it, but I couldn’t help myself. There had been something in those eyes, something that told me that I should stop. The look had lasted for less than a second, but it had been Ankara escort enough. I saw her walking up behind the car through the rear view mirror. She was dressed in torn jeans, boots, a black top of some kind and a dark brown leather jacket. The tears in her jeans didn’t look like they had been there when she bought them, they looked real, the product of a fall, or maybe just use. “Hi, thanks for stopping.” The voice was quite deep for a woman and soft like velvet. I looked up at her and she smiled. White teeth in the dirty face, brown curly hair hung around her oval face. Her eyes dark brown, sad looking, but there was a fire in them. She wasn’t high or drunk. She put her hand on the window sill of the door. Old chipped nail polish on a few fingers, no ring, she was single. “Hi, yeah, sure, hop in,” I said and threw my cigarette away. She didn’t have a purse or a bag, just herself. When she sat down I couldn’t help to notice her shapely long thighs. Oh, did I mention she didn’t wear a bra and her boobs looked big and ripe under her top? I guessed her height at around five-nine. I am a big man, well over six feet. I dress like if I was in a movie with James Dean: jeans, boots, white t-shirt and a black leather jacket. My longish hair is slicked back but a lock always seemed to stray and hangs down over my forehead. My nose has been broken a few times, and I have a scar on my right cheek, thanks to a Mexican in a jail cell we shared a few years back. My eyes are deep set and dark blue, and I have a cleft in my chin. “Where are you going?” she asked when the car was moving again. I hardly saw her lips move, but her voice was clear and still had that velvety sound to it. “Next town, I need gas.” “And then?” Without thinking, I said, “West, I am going to California.” “Cool, what for?” I couldn’t tell her obviously, so I said, “To visit a friend.” “What’s your name?” “Dave.” She turned her head and smiled a smile like I had never seen before. It made me smile too, and for a while, I just stared at her. “Turn your eyes back on the road again,” she said and turned away. When I had, she put a hand on my thigh and squeezed it gently. “Don’t lie to me. Tell me your name and why you are going to California.” I tried to come up with some lie but all I could muster was the truth. “My name is Jake, and I am on my way to kill someone.” “See, that wasn’t too hard,” she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. My skin burned where her lips had touched me, but not like if had been a cigarette, but more like a hot tingling feeling. I touched the spot with my fingers but didn’t feel anything but my unshaved skin. I had three-day stubble and it was itching a bit, maybe that was it. We drove in silence and after half an hour I saw a sign for the town. As we approached there was a gas station on the right which I drove into. It only had one pump, and around the shack that served as an office where several cars in different stages of disintegration. I fat man in a blue overall came out from the shack wiping sweat from his face with an oily towel. Then he spat on the ground and walked up to the car. “What?” he said. “Fill her up, please,” I said, trying to be civilized. He looked at the woman who I still didn’t know the name of. “Oh yeah, do you want me to fill you up, honey?” he laughed, and spat phlegm. I was about to say something when she put her hand on his arm. “Just do what Jake said, or he will kill you.” The man stared at her for a second and then said, “Yes, ma’am, I sure will.” When he was gone I turned to her. “Hey! Why did you say that and what’s your name?” Again she smiled that seductive smile, and I felt the anger run out of me. I became like putty in her hands. “Oh Jake, I’m Belle, and he won’t remember a thing after we have Ankara escort bayan left, trust me.” My head was spinning slowly and the town in front of me seemed to turn on its side. The feeling was like when you go to bed at night drunk and you have to keep one foot on the floor to stop the world from spinning. It only lasted for a few seconds, and when it stopped I felt nauseated. Was I becoming sick? Impossible, I was never sick, not even a cold. But something was off with me. “There you go, and it’s on me,” the gas attendant said when he turned up next to Belle again. “Thank you so much, you are a darling,” she said, and the man grinned like an idiot. I moved out onto the road and began searching for a place to eat. I had been on the road since early morning. “Yes, I am hungry too,” Belle said next to me. How the fuck did she know I was hungry, I thought while driving up to a greasy spoon I had spotted. Even though it was only three in the afternoon there was a crowd inside. Three guys hung at the bar and two tables had four people each. Behind the bar stood a woman in her thirties who I guessed at one time had been quite the looker, but alcohol and bad food had destroyed. Her eyes were bloodshot, her boobs sagged and her hair was greasy and unruly. The men all turned and looked at us, then their eyes zoomed in on Belle. I took her arm and led her to a table as far away as possible from the bar and the other men. When we had sat down the woman came up to us and said in a cigarette damaged voice, “What can I get you?” “Two hamburgers and two beers,” I said without even asking Belle. It was like if I knew what she wanted and that made me want the same. Next to us stood an old jukebox and when Belle saw it she got up and walked over to it. I watched her as she ran her finger over the dirty glass looking for a song she wanted to hear. When the first tunes of “You can leave your hat on” came out of the old speakers, she turned around and began to move. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she began to swing her hips to the rhythm and ran her hands up along her thighs to her top which she lifted up showing a flat tummy with a belly button ring. Her hands moved further up and she cupped her breasts while still swinging to and forth. My cock grew hard and so did the other men’s I was sure. She turned around bending over slightly and put her hands on the jukebox. Her ass began to gyrate like I have never seen a woman do before. I was hypnotized by the movements, not being able to tear my eyes of her perfectly round bum. One of the men from the bar walked over to where she stood and put his hand on her ass. She turned, looked at him and bit her lower lip, looking seductively at him. A deep rage began inside me, no one put his hands on her except me, I thought. Before I could stop myself I got up so fast that the chair fell over behind me. In two steps I was at his side and grabbed the wrist belonging to the hand touching Belle’s ass. I twisted it and pulled back forcing him backward and up on his toes. Then I kicked his feet from under him. As he fell to the floor I kicked him on the side of his head; he went still. The music was still playing as I whipped around ready to face one of his friends. But no one came at me, the two at the bar stared at their friend on the floor, and the others stared at Belle who hadn’t stopped dancing during the short fight. The woman came out from the kitchen with two plates in one hand and grabbed two long necks from the fridge next to the bar. She simply stepped over the man lying on the floor and put down the plates and the beers. I tried to sit down, but I couldn’t, my eyes were glued to Belle. She had faced me and now danced slowly towards me while moving seductively, caressing her boobs under her top. When Escort Ankara she reached me, she slowly turned around and pressed her body against mine, looking up at me over her shoulder. Her ass touched my cock under the jeans, and I gasped. Her hands found mine. She moved them on to her boobs over the top; I could feel her hard nipples. And that’s when the music stopped. She slipped away from me, and I was left standing alone. It took me a moment to realize she was gone, but I could still feel the imprint of her body against mine. By the time I sat down she had devoured half her hamburger and all of her beer. She must have been starving, poor thing, I thought. She waved her empty bottle over her head and the woman brought two more. “Where are you going?” I asked her between bites. “Nowhere and everywhere,” she answered. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I have no destination; I go where destiny takes me.” “So, you have no family or friends?” She smiled that smile again, and I felt like giggling like a school girl. It made me so happy when she smiled at me. “I have friends, and I have a family, but they are far away, and I don’t know how to get to them.” “Have you tried to call them?” She laughed, it sounded like a brook in the spring. “Honey, there are no phones where they are.” I didn’t understand, but at the same time, I didn’t want to pry. Instead, I kept quiet and finished my food and my beer. When I was done she took my hand in hers. Her nails ran along my skin, and it felt like tiny sparks. “Why don’t you and I find a room so we can fuck,” she said, looking straight at me. I am used to women coming on to me, but they don’t usually come out and say what they want quite as clearly as Belle. “Sure, but don’t expect me to hang around afterward. I can’t stay here, and I can’t take you with me. I am not what you might call boyfriend material” “Don’t worry, Jake. I don’t need a boyfriend. What I need is a hard cock to take this urge away from me. It has been so long since I had one.” I thought she was joking with me. A woman like her couldn’t go an hour without finding a man who was willing to have sex with her. “Sure, I don’t believe you.” She giggled again. “Good girls don’t fuck and tell.” She might look like one but she sure as hell didn’t behave like any good girl I had ever met. “Let’s go,” I said and got up, ready to pay the bill. She turned to the woman at the bar. “On the house, right?” “Always, honey,” the woman answered. When we walked out into the sunshine she pointed at a building opposite the restaurant. “Aren’t we lucky?” I followed her gaze and saw a sign stating it was the Grand Hotel of Cactus Hill. I didn’t even know the town was called that, there was nothing on the map I had looked at earlier. She led the way across the street, and we entered the hotel. The reception area was small and dark with dust on the wall to wall carpet. There was no one at the desk so I called out. I minute later a young woman in her late twenties came out from a door behind the desk. “Hi, we need a room for a day. He is going to fuck me,” said Belle. My jaw dropped at her directness, and I was waiting for the woman to say something about this not being a place for hookers. Instead, she smiled and said in a low tone, “That is wonderful, I wish someone would fuck me too.” I felt like if I was in the twilight zone. No one would say that, not where I came from at least. “Maybe he will, after he is done with me, but I doubt it. I tend to suck the life out of my lovers,“ said Belle. “Please sign the register,” said the woman whose name was Clara according to her name tag. I did and was given a key with a piece of wood attached to it. The number twelve was written on both sides. “Happy fucking and please make as much noise as you want,” said Clara. Belle took my hand and led me up the stairs to the second floor. The stairs creaked under our weight. For a second I thought they would crack open and we would fall to our deaths, but they held. The room was simple with a queen size bed, a small desk with one chair and one large window with heavy drapes.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32