Part 109
Posted by Barbanne on September 04, 2003 at 00:02:19:
PART ONE HUNDRED AND NINE
DEATHFINGER
The man bent over the tub.
The girl lay in the warm water smiling up at him, her mouth curving up at the corners. He ran his fingers across her smooth wet breasts lightly fondling her hard nipples and then down onto the flesh of her sternum and then ever so slowly down across her tummy towards her fur covered mound. She purred like a contented cat. Her slanted blue eyes watched him, her lids lowered and her pupils slightly unfocussed. His big middle finger caressed her labia and then slipped inside her cunt and her purring became soft, slow moaning. His fingertip found her hard nubby clitoris and he stroked it and her moaning became a loud continuous groan. He released the power and she started to pant and her hips moved against his finger and then she started crying out and her slow sexy grind notched up to juddering, jerking, and then wildly pistoning motion.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Up and down........................up and down.
She was shrieking now and water was slopping everywhere and then she came and she screamed and he released the energy and her scream rose like a dopplering railway train rushing past and her body bucked upward, arching, every fibre straining and then her mouth gaped and her tongue lolled out and her eyeballs rolled completely back and she flopped into the water sending a wave schlupping over the rim and onto the floor where it soaked the bath mat and trickled into the floor waste.
She lay limply in the water, half submerged and bubbles boiled in the gap between her thighs and then blue smoke curled out of the crack of her cunt and spiralled upward.
The girl was dead!!!
Deathfinger had struck again.
A half smile flitted across his face as he looked down at the body that had given him such pleasure. Those soft, small, breasts now breaking water like two poached eggs, the nipples like two flattened strawberries atop the circular flesh, that smooth, shiny tummy emerging from the ripples like a small island, the fine downy hair slicked and wet and the pubic bush floating like seaweed, moving gently in the tiny water currents. Her face belied the peacefulness of her limply reclining body. Her mouth gaped pink and wet, her tongue lolling to one side, her eyelids hung at half mast, blindly sightless white all that was visible of her eyeballs.
The blue smoke continued to spiral up from her redly swollen slit.
He blew her a kiss and walked from the bathroom leaving her corpse soddenly submerged in the rapidly cooling water.
The redhead with the pixie face and lithe, toned, body squirmed in his embrace. Their mouths met and tongues twined and she gasped with pleasure as she realised his tender finger had invaded her pussy and was now stroking her highly aroused clit. She snapped out a moan that was almost a shriek and panted in his ear, "Yes oh yes, there, there, more, more."
He released the pulsing energy, the force, letting it flow from his brain to his arm, to his fatal finger, his lethal digit.
The girl's shrieking sensualism became a scream. She spasmed, orgasmed and a flood of cum preceded the curling vent of blue smoke.
Her body arched so violently her spine crackled and her tongue flopped out and her eyeballs rotated backward and she fell back across the bed bent almost at ninety degrees in the small of her back, her ribs thrust forward like some bony cage beneath her skin.
The girl lay there twisted and tormented in death.
The smoke curled out and up.
The other girl still lay dead in the now cold bathwater.
Dead girl number one, the cold corpse in the cool bathwater, was me. Dead girl number two, the one bent back across the bed was Jade. Dead girls number three and four soon fell to Deathfinger's digital embrace. They were Gerri and Marlene and died in the living room, one on the lounge and one on the floor.
Deathfinger (and I suspect having the time of his life) was Alex. I told you he could be quite good at doing a villain. In doing my demise I had let him actually insert the death finger in my pussy, but the other girls encounter with the digit of death was faked and made to look good by cleverly masked and angled camera shots. Dave and Loreen attended to that. (I mean there's a limit to what a girl can be asked to do for a few bucks an hour) The idea for this little set was mine and I had pinched it from a porno film I watched once and it was just another set in the can, along with those we had done of murdered babes, awaiting the relaunch of the Playdead dot com website.
We wrapped it up, (our motel room, doubling as a studio, investment was really paying off) and I got last use of the bathroom after all the other girls had cleaned up, partly because I'm so nice and mostly because I wanted to spend time in there.
I stood in front of the mirror, buck naked and admired the view.
Strewth!!
I was getting old!!!!!!!!!
My hair which was probably too long had gone ultra fritzy from playing dead in the bathwater and curled around in long, wet, corkscrew strands. My face was showing the passage of time and the ravages of those episodes of self hatred I had been so prone to. (I hoped to hell they were over) My shoulders were narrow and sloping and made me slump when standing in a posture of sort of defeat. My breasts, always small, had totally lost their perkiness and now sagged down in another gesture of defeat. My nipples looked to me like they'd given up on facing the world insouciantly and just wanted to peer downcast at my knees. Knobbly, shapeless, horrible knees. Knees are NOT a girl's most attractive feature. My thighs were sort of heavy and my ass was a way too big. I pivotted to see it as others behind me saw it.
Aaaaaaaaaaagggghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My feet were too big and I looked like a sort of pear shaped smallish shiela propped up on two baby carrots. You know how a girl's big bum and thighs taper rapidly to her ankles? That look.
And oh god, my ribs stuck out like I had a bird cage under my skin.
Oh shit I was past it.
How could Alex like this?
How could he get turned on by this??
The man must be some sort of pervert professing love to a godzilla assed match stick.
Oh Jeez!
Thanks god for make up and push up bras and eyeliner and false eye lashes and hair dressers and oh...............................
Alex appeared in the mirror behind me, his arms encircled my waist and then his hands slid up my tummy amd cupped my breasts. My nipples betrayed me, hardening and thrusting.
"How's my gorgeous?" he murmured.
"Careful someone might come in."
"They've all gone. Just you and me baby."
"Oh Alex, I'm getting so old and I'm ugly and losing my looks and my shape and................."
"Looks OK to me Barb."
"You're just being nice. I'm old and I'm past it. You should take up with Jade she's still young and firm and pretty."
"You'll do me."
"But I'm old and I'm getting flabby look at me."
"I am," he said and his erection stabbed me in the bum and crawled up against my back.
"Ooooh," I sighed, "still got a mind of his own I see, or should I say feel."
"Mmmmmmm, I'll have to speak to him."
"Do you still love me Alex?"
"Is the Pope catholic?"
"I dunno, is he??"
He was laughing and his tummy and "that" were shaking against my back. Then I started giggling and turned around and trapped him between my mons and his belly and I kissed my lover and opened my mouth and tongued and writhed my (imperfect) body against his.
"So what are you doing?" he asked.
"Going to shower."
"Oh goodeeee!" He started shedding clothes.
"Ooooohhwerr.........," I whispered.
Him, me the shower, plenty of slippy soap and shampoo and other cleansing products made for really clean albeit steaming sex.