The Fallen Angel

(This is part one of a three-part series that is currently still being written. Unlike the other shorts, this series includes more than just violent sex scenes. This is my most elaborate work as of yet. Enjoy.)

Then:

I’d known I had a stalker for weeks. And though I tried my best to placate my friends and family they could see that subtle fear in my shaking hands and in my weary eyes. At first, I was just seeing the same hoodie all over the place, a popular trend with the new fall weather I thought. Days on end I’d catch a glimpse of that hoodie somewhere near by me but never following enough to raise concern. And honestly some sick, fucked up part of me which my Southern Baptist mother would shame me for, enjoyed the slight thrill.

Then came the letters showing up on my doorstep with no return postage. That’s when I stopped having fun and really started to get freaked out. I tried to ignore it. I thought maybe if I pretended the problem didn’t exist, it would just go away. Maybe he would just get bored with my lack of a reaction. I guess I should’ve had a bigger reaction looking back now, but I’m sure that’s why I’m not unfamiliar with the feeling of his eyes on me. I’ve been feeling him watching me for a good while now: on my way to work, at the park, even out with girlfriends on a Friday night. I haven’t felt truly alone for weeks because he’s always been there watching me. Even late at night when I wrapped myself in my cozy down comforter, I would feel like I was being watched. The sensation always set my skin alight with a frenzy of energy and goosebumps that wouldn’t go away. I pleaded with my friends that I was fine, that I could take care of myself and that there was really nothing to worry about. Looking back it’s funny how much time I spent convincing them that I was safe, that they shouldn’t worry about me. Their worried faces flash in my mind now, but all I see is darkness.

I smelled her delicious scent the second I breached her doorway, the sweet flavors of her wrapping around me as if in welcome. I didn’t know that simply catching glimpses of her scent hadn’t been enough these last few weeks when I was trailing her. I was intoxicated on the full enveloping essence of her, bathing in it so much that I had forgotten my task at hand for a second. I quickly and softly shut the front door to her apartment which I’d just so easily picked the lock to. One glance around her doorway told me she had no security systems that would annoyingly delay me from her. None. In fact, her entry way was even more welcoming than her lovely scent which I was still ready to drown in. Pictures of her and her friends in this city covered an already cluttered table which held her purse, her keys, shoes, and important mail documents. God this girl really was the intruder’s perfect victim. Perhaps she left all her valuable things there as to stop any intruder from venturing further into her home but with the alluring light coming from just beyond the hall, I doubted it. I knew she was an easy victim when she didn’t get scared at being trailed that first week, or the next. Of course, I never abruptly followed her step by step, but I was always in her general area. Always in the same coffee shop or running path she took through central park. The third week I started to get closer. I wanted to see just how far she’d let herself rationalize that it was New York City, everyone was wearing hoodies with the chill weather underway. How long would she tell herself she was overreacting? Apparently until she couldn’t anymore. Poor girl.

I made my way through the warm hallway, glancing at framed pictures of her family on my left and right. Graduation photos, family vacations, ectara. A low murmur stopped me abruptly. Did she have someone over when I hadn’t been watching tonight? Checking the watch on my wrist I saw that it was nearly three am, who the fuck would she have over this late? And why would they be awake? For a split-second anger buzzed through my body and I palmed the knife I carried in my right pocket. I listened again, seeing red as I inched closer to the corner that I knew would open up to her living room and kitchen adjacent. That murmur grew louder and louder then- started singing…? My brows knotted above my eyes as I listened harder. Straining my ears, the song lulled into a soft jingle and then a deep, yet loud voice spoke too quickly over the music, too enthusiastically. A soft snore came over the jingle then. I glanced, sly as a cat, around the corner letting out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding. The tv was on. And my girl was asleep on the couch, alone. The deep voice was that of an infomercial constantly repeating the same “4 easy payments of 29.99” for some bullshit item. My eyes raced back to her sleeping form, totally unaware of the danger just feet away from her in her home. She snored again, stirring in her position on the couch, only the bottom half of her body lazily covered up with her favorite butter yellow wool blanket. Her hand lay still touching a bowl of cookies at the floor next to her as if she’d simply dozed off; so comfortable to do so in her scarcely secured apartment. People always have this bias that it would never happen to them, which makes for even easier victims.

The infomercial guy was getting on my nerves quickly, so I glanced around until I located the remote she left on the coffee table and turned his voice off. Then it was just me, her and the distant sounds of the city that never sleeps. Her soft breathing soothed whatever tension I felt in my body. Her body was curvy yet toned, with skin as warm as and as soft as the Tahitian sands she spent her summers on. Her blonde hair fell in untidy curls around her face and shoulders just barely kissing her perky tits which were so close to spilling out of the thin fabric holding them in. I found myself nearly salivating while taking in every exquisite inch of her up close. Of course, I’d have more time to do this later, once she was in my space not hers. I took one more appreciating glance at the scenery in front of me and then decided it was time she come home.

Now:

“See I can be a nice guy” he gestured to himself with one hand free while the other held that precious water inches from my face. I was desperate. Sweat beaded along my forehead so much that I now welcomed the cold bite of the giant metal cage I awoke in. I pressed my too hot face harder into the thick, grimy rods of metal separating him from me. Panting deeply, I worked to bring my eyes up to his way above me. He shook the water bottle mockingly at me from above. “Please…” I whimpered, “What was that?” he asked leaning his ear closer, again mocking me. I coughed this time, trying to bring as much into my broken voice as I could “please.” He smiled sadistically, the action twisting my stomach in disgust, “Put out your tongue.” I struggled for a moment in my head with the logic of knowing the water would run right off my tongue, more sick tricks from him for sure. “Stick out your tongue like the bitch you are. Yeah, good girl.” Lights flickered above and behind him like something straight out of a horror movie and I guess this was my own horror movie come true. Panting with my tongue stretching out as much as the metal cage would allow, stale, dank air invaded me with a dampness tasting of dirt. We had to be underground then. Far beyond the reach of fresh air which normal a.c. units circumvented. I wanted to wonder how far below the earth’s surface he brought me; how deep into his hole I was now prisoner. But I didn’t let myself fully think that through, it was already an effort to keep my shallow breaths from shaking too much. I would not let him have my panic. I would cry when he was gone.

Slowly and torturously, the bottle dipped, and droplets began to fall towards my face and waiting open mouth. If I could drool, I would’ve had a mess down my chin, but I was so dehydrated from the time I’d spent knocked out that it just wasn’t possible now. There were no windows in this room either. No clock or outside sounds, no sense of time. I’d noticed as soon as I woke that I may be on a clock of his own, and that would be just another freedom of mine he’d make his. I lapped up as much water as I could, though it felt incredibly difficult taking what felt like tiny sips from the small waterfall he poured. He watched with a smug grin; the sick bastard was enjoying this. Enjoying me being restricted yet moving desperately. Enjoying the inhuman, animalistic way my body moved; that he had me incapacitated only hours ago for gods knows how long. Enjoying that I was now seemingly his. His new toy to torment and break. I shuddered, unintentionally letting my mind wonder about all the sick things he liked to do within these private walls. All the things he kept under wraps in public until he was in here with no one watching and nothing to impress the morals of society upon him. What kind of things could a man do when he truly believed he would have no consequence? How creative could he get? I shivered now at that thought and didn’t let myself think any more on the possibility that I was not his first in this room and that I may be receiving the worst yet if he, like any other serial killer, grew more violent as they mature. He pulled back the water bottle taking my full body shiver as my body’s overreaction to the water which I’d been recently without. And in truth I was glad he thought of it as that instead of my other realizations. I trembled, slowly retreating from the front side of the large cage where he sat on the heels of his feet crouching over me. A predator over their prey. It was quiet, yet I could hear my shuddering breaths and the slight hum of the air conditioning unit. The metal cap screeched slightly as he refastened the lid to the bottle. He said nothing as he continued to stare at me, inspecting me. Suddenly I felt the very prominent need cover myself under his gaze. I felt hot, like his eyes were burning my skin over every inch they scanned. What was he looking for? Was he studying his new prey and forming up a sadistic plan for future use of me later in his head?

I could feel my body shivering on the cement floor as grabbed myself closer in my arms. My arms now slick with water, sweat and dirt from the floor. I hugged myself as tight as I could while taking in his overwhelming presence. It was silly to try to cover myself, but I squeezed myself anyway. I moved my hair too, now slightly wet on the ends, putting my locks in front of my collar bones. He snorted at that. It was a futile action, laughable to him. If he wanted to, he could lay me bare and there would be nothing I could do to stop him. We both knew that fact, yet my body acted as if I still held some control over what he got from me. Forcing my eyes up to his, I gathered as much venom as I could into them. He would not see a weak, cowardice girl in this cage. I would show him I’m a fighter. That he’d have to kill me before I rolled over and took whatever beating he craved to give me. My lip trembled and I bit until I could taste blood to keep it still. I poured every ounce of strength into my face and lifted my chin an inch higher than before. “You’re a cute little bitch, pretending to be big and bad.” He huffed another laugh under his breath at my display then stood swiftly. Standing up, he towered over my bent over position in the cage making me feel incredibly small. He was a towering, sinister statue of my greatest nightmares, giving off the most radiant cold which seeped into my bones. His shadow covered my entire body and somehow, I felt it reach deep within my belly. And true fear sank deep within me, as if his darkness was that tangible as to touch me internally. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said with a smirk that had me once again forcing venom into my eyes. “I’ll be back later.” My body locked at the impending time alone in this cell. I should have been somewhat relieved but instead I only grew more fearful. “I hope you’re not afraid of the dark, little bitch” and with that the lights went out leaving no sense of vision left to me. Not even my hands, which I hoped were inches from my face, could be seen. Moments later, long enough I’d forgotten about my captor being so wrapped up in my loss of sight, a screeching metal door opened and closed. Despite the ground being cold beneath my hands my legs grew warm and warmer. It wasn’t for another minute until I smelled a scent I hadn’t before that I fearfully realized… my pants were now soaked in my own piss.

I wasn’t asleep but I wasn’t awake either. I was in this weird place in the middle. I didn’t feel the chill sinking into my bones from the floor below, but no images of joy and warmth flashed in my subconscious either. It was a dreamless state, until my nightmare resumed. Loud clanking forced my body to alert jolting with the suddenness of it. Again, I had no inkling to how much time had passed but he was back, banging on the side of the metal bars with a cup. Though it was still dark the loud clanking stopped, and his presence felt like a chilling, suffocating blanket upon my backside which faced him. Dread spread from the base of my stomach until my entire body felt an electric unease. Yet I did not move, I was too scared. “Rise n’ shine little bitch,” his voice cheered, again in a mocking tone. I stayed still, frozen. Frozen except it felt like I had to pee real bad. “I know you’re awake. Don’t be rude… come here.” That command in his dark voice did it. and I locked my muscles even tighter as I realized, I didn’t have to pee. No, as my hips shifted of their own accord, that tiny ball of pressure near my clit was traitorous and clear. My stomach sank even deeper as if it could leave me anymore. It felt ten times worse than being on a descending aircraft or a bad roller coaster. I moved slowly. Inch by inch I scraped myself up off the concrete floor and then faced him. He was again crouching over the cage as if I were a mere pet he enjoyed fascinating over. My strength was not with me this time, nor the venom in my eyes. I hoped he would see my exhaustion for lack of fear, but he saw right through. The rivers of dried tears down my face revealed just how much I did fear him, and strangely, how much I feared being in this room without him. I stopped that thought in its tracks, only for a second allowing myself to be grateful I was not alone in the dark anymore. “How’s my bitch today?” I cringed at the term. I cringed at how he talked and treated me as if this were permanent. As if I had already let go of the burning knowing within me that I would get free of him in the very near future. “Oh, poor thing. Why didn’t you tell me you needed to go?” Oh. My. God. Embarrassment flashed red hot in my cheeks and though I shouldn’t have been I was extremely ashamed of what he was now noticing. My pants. My now damp but once wet pants that still gave off the odor of my self-ruin. I could feel his smile grow taking in the sight of me fully. Embarrassment flushed my face from knowing he was getting off of my degradation, the process of breaking me down bit by bit, and my shame along with it. He drank in every bit of it. I wondered if this was part of his sick process, his personal style. Would he slowly strip away all the humanity I had until there was nothing left within me? Would he enjoy stripping me down physically and mentally? Would he break me down until I acted the way he was seeing me now, as nothing more than an animal? “Still not talking huh? That’s fine. You will soon.” Now I glared at him, venom and hate and malice and all. “There she is! Good morning sweetheart.” He mused leaning closer over the top of the cage with that disgusting grin on his face. I couldn’t help but cringe away under him, even though metal bars nearly 3 inches thick served as a barrier between us. “I brought you some food and water. And next time I’ll bring another bowl for… that.” I followed his gesturing hand, gloved in black, to the two bowls now placed at the edges of his cage for me. I’d never once felt more like an animal, like a set of flesh and meat and… holes– I stumbled admitting that last word because although I knew men and their immediate need to use women for their carnal desires whenever they had some sort of power of us, I wasn’t ready to start preparing for that onslaught of trauma that was surely coming. I wasn’t ready for that pit of dread to grow any deeper than it already had within. My clit again thrummed with invisible pressure as my fear sank deeper into my body. Damn me for getting off on fear. Flashes of this new wave of terror overtook my mind. I had to again bite my lip to keep them from quivering, but he saw. Me bent and restrained by all limbs as he thrust deep into me, pushing into my bounds which warred to keep me place against his aggressive strokes. My pussy clenching tighter around his cock as he gripped my throat yanking me like a rag doll. How my knees would dig into the concrete below and I wouldn’t care because the blood rush of him not allowing me to breathe would simply incapacitate me to the point of being nothing but a tight, wet hole, gasping desperately under his weight from behind… I stopped myself from seeing anymore. I decided not to look at him or the grimy metal bars which I’d just involuntarily imagined being fucked up against. “Now the only way I’m gonna help you is if you do this my way. Otherwise, you can sit in your filth, your choice.” I nodded solemnly, and he brought a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. Silently, he curled his fingers, beckoning my hands. I brought them to the waiting cuffs, keeping my eyes down, awaiting the further embarrassment he would bring upon me. With a sharp click, he closed the handcuffs around my wrists to the metal bars leaving me unable to move except for my legs. Unlocking the cage door, he halfway slipped in and allowed himself a moment to fully take in the site of me. Without warning, his hands reached up and grabbed, ripping at my jeans. I shivered away out of response, not even thinking of it nearly kicking at him as well. What I didn’t expect was the gun he pulled from his back waistband now aimed at my head. He cocked it once letting me know it was loaded with the safety off. “Hey! Calm down or I will put you down. I said we do this my way little bitch. I don’t like to repeat myself.” I didn’t know if it was quite possible, but fear took further route within me stalling me completely. I was afraid to move even an inch. He took that as me giving up and put the gun back in his waistband. Slower this time, as if anticipating me to fight back again he reached for the waistband of my pants and started to unbutton them. He had to work to get my wet pants down my thick thighs, but his muscles labored easily at removing them, nearly ripping at them until they were completely off and thrown across the room. An appreciating groan came out of him as he took in my wetness, both from me soiling myself and the confusing and scary reaction my pussy was having. “My, my, you are delicious looking.” He smiled that wicked grin and I shrunk back against whatever walls of my cage that I could. He chuckled to himself, laughing at my piss poor retreat and simply grabbed my ankles yanking me across the floor and closer to him as if I weighed nothing. One hand pinned my chest down just between my breast holding me so hard that my back ached from the pressure. His weight was unmeasurable, his muscles flickering here and there as I minimally struggled against his hold, testing it. I tried to take a deep breath then, but his weight on my chest wouldn’t allow it. Instead he just pushed down further, not letting me breathe in. I watched in horror as his other hand, slowly and mockingly reached towards my soaked panties. The sick fuck was enjoying drawing out my terror. His fingers finally landed on my soaked panties and began massaging my clit. I squeezed my eyes as he rubbed between my legs and forced my body to lock still. He smiled again at this new tension within my muscles. “Don’t fight it little bitch, just let it happen.” He saw that I was doing everything in my power to not react to him, to his hand which delved down into my panties, feeling around my wetness. “You don’t have to fight this. You can enjoy the way my fingers feel on you. You’re trying to hide it, but I can tell by how wet your cunt is.” I forced whatever groan desired to come up to stay within my throat. And I locked my thigh muscles even tighter. His other hand left my chest, giving me space to breathe deeply again, but I found it painful to breathe as I tried desperately to not focus on what was happening between my legs. That free hand now forced my thighs to the ground, holding me in an iron grip. He held me down as if my fight were nothing to him, as if it were a mundane task to work on me. Splayed open for him, I had to bite down on my lip even harder to stop from reacting to him. With my legs so wide I felt even more vulnerable to the onslaught of pressure from his fingers at my clit. But no matter how much I wanted to move my hips up to press further into those hands. I wouldn’t let myself. I was too embarrassed and too ashamed, and I would not give him more of that. I couldn’t even believe that I was feeling this want from him for him. Perhaps that was why I kept my eyes closed. So that I could partially take what my body desperately ached for in this moment without my logic or sense of reality to stop me. Yet as he circled my clit and rubbed deeper in my soaked folds, I found it harder to keep in place. “That’s it… you’re being such a good slut for me.” I was giving him what he wanted, I was reacting not as a girl kidnapped and locked in a cage but as a person overtaken by need and acting upon instinct. Finally, I couldn’t help it anymore, my hips raised of their own accord. This time he let me move. As soon as I’d finally given into him, he took it away, slapping my pussy sending splashes of both my arousal and piss in all directions. The sharp pain made me jolt back, made me whimper and then that sense of embarrassment and shame filled me again, flushing my cheeks and making me clamp my legs together. He laughed at me, then scooted out of the cage and shut it. He let out a deep breath, as if he enjoyed playing him me but was bored now, done with me. “You’ll be even easier than the last one,” he said satisfied with himself. This brought tears to my eyes. My suspicions were confirmed that I was not the first and probably would not be the last. That I was just a piece in his pattern. I cried silently because though this was only the first round, I’d lost a part of myself, and he’d taken it.

I didn’t want to leave the presence of her company, not when I’d been waiting so long to finally have her be mine. But the surveillance cameras down the hall would satisfy me, or at least that’s what I told myself. I wanted to be there for every second, every discovery she made. Each time her body reacted to a new fear brought alight by either myself or her own doing, I wanted to be there. I wanted to see those big blue eyes widen in terror and watch her lightly freckled cheeks, like cinnamon sprinkled over a warm pastry, brighten over her blushing. I wanted more than anything to know how long she was going to fight me. That display just a few minutes ago told me she was already barely able to keep up, but her venomous eyes, whenever she could muster them, told me there would be more yet to come from her. I smirked at that, let her put up a good fight I’d enjoy nothing more than taking her down like the bitch she would soon be for me. She would be as easy as slicing warm butter. I entered through the door on my left at the end of the hall closing it behind me. My office, as I called it, which wasn’t really an office, but it was where I handled the majority of my business. Her face took up the entirety of my four screened monitor mounted upon the far western wall. I smiled even broader now taking in her trembling frame, her wet hair, and frantic eyes. She was afraid of the dark, or at least my dark. Plopping myself down in my fine leather chair, I brought my fingers up to my nose while keeping my eyes upon her image on my screen. Though the picture was green and black from the lack of light, her features could be made out clearly. I sniffed deeply then again more needily. She was a drug to me that I hadn’t known I needed. Without being able to help myself I quickly took my fingers into my mouth, still staring at her image, and sucked earnestly. I needed to have her. Tasting her off my fingers was second best to the craving now drawing thirst from within me. Cleaning every bit of her off my fingers like a mad man tasting his vibrant self-delusions, I groaned that I didn’t have more of her to lap up with my tongue. Self-control for a brief second seemed beyond me as I gripped the arms of my chair, pressing as I nearly stood back up and stormed into her cell to drink from her as if I was in a drought. But no, not yet. I wanted her to beg for me. I wanted to break her into a million pieces that could only be kept by me. I wanted her to be so far broken that I was her salvation. She would be just as desperate for me as I was for her, tortured by something she wanted more than air or life itself but unable to obtain, until I gave it to her. Stay focused man, I muttered to myself. I nearly slapped myself to bring my head back down from the high I’d just been on. Some water would do. I reached for a water bottle out of the minifridge to my left under my large desk and grabbed the first chilled one my hand landed upon. Keeping the minifridge had been a good idea at first until I started stocking it with more beer than water and energy drinks. At first it helped me stay locked in and focused during long nights of studying. I wouldn’t have to take the time to go all the way upstairs to the ground floor of my apartment where I made it seem as if I were any other normal medicinal student of NYU. Of course, normal students didn’t have their own apartments quite as large or as independent as my own but, I was lucky on that front that my father had been a large donor to NYU over the years. My education as well as my accommodations were woefully generous and thoroughly expected. Summer especially was a bad influence on my minifridge. Some days there would be no water in sight. Just seltzers, shooters, and more beer than anyone could know what to do with. But I preferred to spend my time down here than up in the bustling and incredibly suffocatingly hot streets of Manhattan. The only time I really did spend up there was for formal occasions in which the dean or my father would drop by, or to lure in new prey. Finding my prey was easy, even though I was relatively picky for a serial killer. But luring them in was somehow even easier. They took one look at me, and this sort of glazed look took root in their eyes. Their smiles never faltered until I wiped them off their faces with my knife. What can I say? Chicks dig hot doctors. Especially ones as well dressed and charismatic as me. But that’s what psychopaths are right? Charismatic, if not as well looking as me, charming, able to put their prey at ease through subtle hand placements and warm eye contact. God, I love the way their eyes widen when they see mine quickly change from that carefully crafted façade of confidence and trust, to cold, evil, and murderous. It’s my favorite trick, the one I keep up my sleeve for- what the fuck? My thoughts abandon me as I blink over and over watching the screen for what must be a glitch. But it’s not. Her eyes are closed and seemingly relaxed, brows raised slightly as if she were experiencing pure bliss in the moment. I trace my eyes further down but can’t see everything from this angle. When she bites her lip, I lose it. I search frantically for my wireless keyboard so that I can toggle between camera angles then finally land on the one I want. Just at the bottom of the cage, angled so I can see directly up at her, is camera E. I stay sitting up right for a moment, too stunned to relax back into the chair. Her fingers are working in circles at her clit. They’re shaky and jerky movements but still her eyes are closed in that blissful sense that I can see beyond her spread knees further back in the picture. My head twists and my eyes squint at this unprecedented display. Her fingers work more rapidly with each passing second and then she finally let out the softest whisper of a moan. The sound was pure ecstasy to me that had my hands gripping the arms of my chair until my knuckles turned white. She ripped open her eyes, fear occupying them as she frantically searched the room after her surely uncontrollable moan escaped her lips. I watch her, seeing what she would do next when she realized I wasn’t coming back, that her noise hadn’t awoken some sleeping monster. She took a deep breath, her throat bobbling as she swallowed down her fear, or inhibitions I couldn’t be sure, and her fingers began again. Slowly and deliberately, she circled her sweet clit. I could hear the sounds of her wetness from my monitor and see the evidence of such as she dragged her fingers down to her center and back up again. She was pleasuring herself then. It wasn’t as fast and jerky as before when she was somewhat afraid I’d be back soon. No these were the movements of someone who knew they had time. She scooted herself further down on the floor which made her pussy that much closer to the hidden camera and this time she didn’t try to hold back her moan as it escaped her. Her back arched and her body fluttered with goosebumps as she drove a single finger inside of her wet, throbbing hole. God she was really turned on right now… I’d been with and seen plenty of women in which I didn’t kill, or seduced them and killed them later, but I’d never seen an aching pussy react so violently before. She was dripping, damn near splashing as her fingers drove all the way in and back out again. The sounds filled my large office driving blood straight to my dick which now strained uncomfortably against my denim jeans. I tried to ignore it but eventually I grew so hard, the strain became painful. I shucked off my pants and palmed my dick through my Calvin’s, precum already beading at the tip of my dick. I stroked once then twice and finally decided the fabric was uncomfortable too. Never taking my eyes off her ever-growing needy pussy, I gripped my dick firmly at the base before reaching up my length and going back down again. I gripped so tightly it should have hurt but I didn’t mind a little pain, not when I was so absent minded, so entranced by the girl on my monitor. Her moans began to break, her voice cracking with the desperation she was feeling. And when I thought she was just about to come apart and release herself, she shoved another finger inside her and began pumping faster. Fuck, my bitch was taking what she wanted. She was needy, starving at that. Her pussy squelched more as her additional finger pushed her wider, then another. Her tight hole so dripping wet that it gave up no fight to her invading fingers. She pumped her wrist harder and faster chasing her release as if she’d die without it. A thoughtless, reactive slut. I continued to stroke my dick with her, going faster and harder with her desperate movements. She shifted up again, her hips chasing after her orgasm, and gods her ass… Her fucking perfect little asshole was thrumming right along in rhythm with her fingers in her pussy. Opening slightly and clenching back together again as she delved deeper inside of her tight hole. She arched her back, writhing and bucking, desperate for her release. At once, she buried her fingers deep within her dripping hole though I could tell they were still pulsing and moving inside her. Her hips were now almost a solid foot off the ground as her body chased and chased. And as my own release began to build in my balls, tightening them until I hand to move my hand to only the sweet spot of the tip of my cock, ready to explode for her as she was for me, she stopped. A devastating groan rung out from her lips and she sagged in defeat as she ripped her fingers from her still pulsating hole. My hand stopped immediately, and my heart nearly sank to my stomach, if I had one. She writhed again, this time in frustration and… misery? Was she unable to make herself cum? Yet she had been so turned on… Her body had practically moved of its own accord towards that rapidly fleeting end goal. She continued to clench her thighs together and writhe every so often, probably to satiate whatever fire that would not easily be put out, yet she seemed unable to feed either. I completely forgot about my dick in my waiting hands, forgot that I had just been so close to cumming for her. The little bitch had gotten into my head again. Fuck. I was going to have do things differently with her in order to keep my head level. I couldn’t allow myself to keep going on the ride of her high unintentionally. She’d be the death of me if I didn’t get a grip of the situation now. I sighed and stuffed my now flaccid dick back into my boxers before pulling up my jeans. I took one more sniff of my fingers, so irrationally grateful that her scent still remained on me. Warm vanilla, not sweet like a pastry shop, it was inlaid with spice and liquor making me think of far-off warm beaches bathed in golden sunlight. A hint of bourbon followed soon after, like a kiss of venom and wealth and class all wrapped into one. It was this scent that had intoxicated me when I first came across her in the Barnes and Noble by her apartment. It was this scent that now drove me again completely off my course and back towards her.