Posted by Megaton on September 19, 2000 at 18:54:59:
Nikki was two years older than me, a voluptuous, beautiful woman of twenty-two. She’d always avoided me in school;
she was one of the popular ones, while I was a loner. One of the ones that called me ‘bi’ and ‘lezzie’, but they really had
no idea what I was.
They probably couldn’t imagine it in their wildest dreams. Or darkest nightmares.
Nikki got married almost as soon as she graduated. She was possessed of an incredible beauty. That dark hair, those
deep blue eyes, that flawless white skin. Big breasts and soft, strong hands. And that figure. Not thin as a rail, like
myself; not clumsily overweight either, but ripe, curved, made to kindle desire. It was no surprise that Mike married her.
I hated Nikki. She had everything I wanted.
I loved Nikki. She was so beautiful. Sensual. Sexy. Most of the time I’m drawn to men, but I’m not averse to a woman,
if she looks as good as Nikki did.
And now Mike was gone, I knew. On a business trip. It was a clear cold September evening. And I had a coat hanger I
had untwisted, leaving it a long thin piece of stiff wire. Hiding in the utility room of their little house, waiting my
opportunity. The phone in the kitchen rang; I ducked back into the dark room, watching, waiting. Nikki came out of the
hallway, wearing only a towel. She had been taking a shower; I had been waiting for her to come out. Now it looked like
destiny might have changed my plans.
She sat down, talking. Laughter like silver water. Evidently her husband was on the phone. Try as I might, I couldn’t
hear their conversation over the muttering of the furnace beside me. I just watched. At first it must have been simply
domestic talk, but shortly her voice became lower, she let the towel slip from her naked body to fall unnoticed on the
floor.
God, she was beautiful. I had never seen her naked.
I watched, fascinated, as she began to fondle her big round breasts, to run her fingers around the aureoles, her nipples
hard. Still on the phone, voice low, quiet, husky. That slim hand strayed from her breasts, down her white belly, to dip
between her legs. She moved a little on the chair. Groaned gently, quietly. Then she reached back up to her breasts;
apparently she had decided not to go all the way.
She should have gone for it, I thought, breathing hard, my own nipples hard against the coarse fabric of my shirt. It just
might be her last chance. I looked at the wire I held and felt my heart beat harder, just thinking about what was going to
happen soon. Very soon.
She said a few more words, stood up to hang the receiver back on the wall. Bent down to pick up the towel.
Quickly I stepped out, whipped the thin, hard wire of the coat hanger around that soft, plump neck, pulled it tight and
twisted it once. Nikki’s hands flew up to her throat, fingertips digging and clawing at the wire as she stumbled forward,
gagging.
I moved forward with her, twisted the wire again, watching it sink into the pretty flesh. She opened her mouth in a
scream, but only choking, clucking sounds came out. Little sounds, barely loud enough to be heard at all. Certainly too
soft to bring help.
I twisted the wire again; it was so deep in her neck that the soft skin had folded around it, hiding it from view. She
flailed, kicked, slapped at me, but I didn’t care. Two more quick twists and I let go, stepped back to the door. Watched
Nikki as she began dying, hands clutching at her throat, face blue. Her lovely mouth opened and closed, opened and
closed, like a fish out of water.
She staggered around the room, knocking over a lamp, lurching from side to side as if the floor was teetering beneath
her feet. Her beautiful eyes stared, terrified, tiny blood vessels bursting within them, staining them with flecks of red.
Above and below the wire her neck was thick and swollen, cords bulging in the white flesh. Her clawing fingernails
scratched raw, red furrows in her soft throat, but could not loosen the killing wire. Blood suddenly burst from her
nostrils, splattering on the walls as she shook her head violently back and forth, side to side.
For a moment she stopped moving completely; stood there almost in the center of the room, legs slightly bent, hands still
at her throat. Face frozen in terror. As I watched, her tongue slowly, languorously crawled from her open, gaping
mouth, lolled there as drool ran down her trembling chin. Tears rolled down her cheeks; her whole body began to
tremble.
Suddenly her legs gave way beneath her; she fell hard to the floor, but did not collapse. Instead she was sitting up, legs
spread wide apart, hands never releasing their grip on her soft, warm, strangled throat. Her head rocked slowly side to
side, over and over, blood running from the nostrils, drool trickling down the chin. Her eyes still stared, unfocused now,
slightly crossed. Her stiff, swollen tongue still hung stupidly from her mouth.
My pants fell down around my feet; I yanked down my panties as well. Began to touch myself with my middle and ring
fingers, in and out, in and out, in time with the motion of Nikki’s head. Back and forth, in and out, back and forth, in
and out, until I was shuddering with pleasure, my juices trickling freely down my thighs. My right hand found its way
beneath my shirt, fondling my breasts as they rose and fell with my panting breaths.
But I couldn’t peak. Couldn’t come. Something was missing. I was right on the verge, but I couldn’t climax like I
wanted to. Just kept masturbating, watching the almost dead woman as she moved weakly and futilely, keeping the lust
burning in me, right on the edge of orgasm.
Nikki was staring down between her legs now, her hands falling away from her throat, catching on her breasts. It was
strange the way her hands stopped there, her fingers clamped down on her big tits, kneading those huge teardrops of
quivering pink flesh. What was she feeling? What were the final, delirious thoughts of her dying brain? Then she let go;
her hands dropped into her lap, fingers pointing toward her wet, dripping crotch. For almost a full minute she just sat
there, perfectly still, perfectly quiet. Then her upper body fell back, leaving her lying on the floor.
I had an idea, a strange idea, a wonderful idea. I pulled off my shirt first; now we were both naked. I sat down on the
floor facing her, my legs across hers. Put my arms around her big beautiful body and pulled her up to me. With one arm I
held her warm body against me, savored the feel of her big round breasts against my smaller tits, cuddled against her.
With my other hand I took her arm, brought her hand up and gently worked her fingers into me, inside me. Contracted
hard on those dead fingers, with an involuntary violence that surprised and excited me.
I moved my arm back some, let her slump back so I could look down, see her hand at my crotch, fingers within me, wet
with my gushing juice. Pulled her close to me, kissed her dead, swollen neck, kissed her cheek, shared a long, hard
French kiss with her, her dead tongue in my mouth, my tongue darting inside her luscious mouth.
Still working her hand expertly within me, touching g-spot and clit with those beautiful wet fingers, feeling the orgasm
that had been denied me at first building up like an oncoming explosion. I was coming, o god, coming, Nikki’s hand
inside of me, her body against me, that soft warm expanse of sexy flesh, god it was good, it was good, working her hand
hard now, hard and deep, she was so beautiful, so beautiful, o god, O GOD I’M COMING!
Again and again, every orgasm shaking me, shuddering through me,my heart pounding in my chest, my whole being
filled with an ecstacy that was better than any sex with a living partner had ever been. Could ever be. Now, as the fire
faded, I just laid there, holding her luscious body to me, her hand still within me. Laid there on the floor, kissing her,
gently licking her flesh. Getting deliciously sleepy now.
I should have gotten up. Should have left. I knew it was dangerous to lay there.
I didn’t. I didn’t care. I laid there and fell asleep, my arms around my lover. And that was how Mike found me when
he came home earlier than expected.
Very soon now, they will come and take me from this cell. I will walk that final walk to the room with the gurney, lay
down for the last time. The veins are very easy to see in my thin arms; they’ll have no trouble inserting the needle. And
I wonder, as I feel my own heart slowing to a stop in my chest, as my final breaths hiss from my lungs, as my eyesight
dims and fades, as my final confused thoughts trickle one by one into silent oblivion: will Death be a good lover?
Soon I’ll know.