Gold watched Ralph approach her and, when he was close enough, she took him and pushed him onto the bed. She climbed on top of him and again she realized that her body knew things her mind was not privy to.
Without effort she took his instrument and slid it inside of her. She just knew where it had to go and how best to sit so it would fit comfortably for her.
Slowly she grinded up and down, relishing the feeling of a man entering her. Though she couldn’t remember, Gold was almost sure that she had felt this before. This burning warmth that left a tingling sensation in her groin.
The longer they went, the hotter she got and the faster she felt her body moving. Gold’s breath was heavy and the sweat running down her back somehow turned her on even more.
In an intense embrace they grinded each other toward an explosion of warmth and relief. The feeling was so powerful that, for a moment, Gold lost her mind to it. Briefly she had no more thoughts at all. There was only the climax that screamed through her skull, and that she forced out into the air.
Panting, they lay on the bed together, Gold still on top of him. She felt how he put one hand on her shoulder, while using the other to play with her hair.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered softly.
Those words were warm and heartfelt, Gold knew, and they made her feel very good about herself. To have this strong man’s approval and appreciation was wonderful, but there was only one man she truly wanted to please. So Ralph’s words drove her toward the final conclusion of the night.
With a sigh she leaned over the edge of the mattress and reached for the butcher’s knife she had hidden underneath the bed. The knife was still rusty, but Gold knew that it would easily get the job done.
With a swift movement she threw herself back onto Ralph and stabbed his throat. Blood exploded from the open wound and covered Gold’s face and breasts.
She kept stabbing him until no more blood came out and his eyes sank back into their sockets. The life left his body and dark red stains marked Gold’s naked skin.
Exhausted, she lay down for a moment, her head pressed up against Ralph’s chin and soaking in the blood that dripped tediously from his throat.
She dreaded the part that came next. Black had always been very good at cutting them up so they could prepare them. Now she had to do it all herself and she would probably make a horrible mess of things.
CHOCOLATE MILK
(June 1, 2018)
Roger Wheeley was a man obsessed. The raging erection he had right now, lying next to his overweight fiancée in their large bed, proved it. He couldn’t get his mind off her and he had no desire to. His plans had worked out perfectly, and the rewards, well… they belonged to him.
When he had first seen the girl with her pale blue eyes and tanned skin, he knew he had to have her. She had been so exquisitely beautiful and youthful that he hadn’t even tried to control himself.
She was the daughter of his secretary, Stella, and she had visited her mother at work from time to time. Her energy had always filled the otherwise stale office and brought smiles to the faces of serious, hardworking people left and right.
To Roger Wheeley she had been more than that. She had been a forbidden fruit that was begging to be tasted. Just a nibble and, if it proved to be as sweet and fresh as it looked, a big and greedy bite.
There had been a time, earlier in his life, when he would have checked himself under the heavy weight of morality. That time had long passed and it would never come back. The fifty-year-old man had decided he wanted the young teenager and he would get her. Urges were to be indulged, Roger Wheeley always told himself.
As partner with one of the biggest law firms in Cleveland, he knew what he could safely get away with and what was going too far. He had needed a plan for any of this to work out the way he wanted it to.
Seducing his secretary had been easy enough. A lonesome single mother going nowhere in life. Her job working for him would likely be the pinnacle of her miserable career. Slightly overweight and with poor fashion sense, she would have been hard-pressed to find a man interested in her.
Roger Wheeley had acted as if he was interested in her. Had touched her shoulder a little too long, snuck glances to her across the room, asked her to stay late even if the work was done.
If he wanted access to the girl, he had to first own her mother. Fucking the slightly overweight woman hadn’t been his favorite thing, though she tried her hardest to please him. Stella had offered him positions, and holes, that few other women ever had. He usually found himself forcing the issue.
Roger Wheeley had proposed to her in the summer of 2017, on a star-filled night, in the backyard belonging to his large house. A house far too large for just one man, he had told her. Wouldn’t she come move in with him? Of course her daughter was welcome too! He had promised that he would treat the girl as his own flesh and blood.
Now he lay with that unattractive woman in his oversized bed, wondering how such an ugly thing could give birth to the delight sleeping across the hall. The girl probably had her father’s genes. The random black guy that had pumped and dumped mother dearest had been right to do so. The piece of lard wasn’t good for much else.
Sweet little Ellie with her pale blue eyes and tanned skin. That skin was so soft it was almost criminal, Roger thought as he rubbed the head of his dick.
He had first visited her in October last year. Roger remembered the moment so vividly that the recollection almost triggered an orgasm.
He had snuck out of his room, tiptoed across the hallway, and gently opened the door to her forbidden bedroom. The girl had been sleeping when he sat down next to her on her mattress, gently caressing her forehead. He had pulled down the covers until her shoulders and fledgling breasts appeared, curves that were still forming. Curves that he would be the first to touch.
The girl had woken up when he reached for her left breast and carefully rubbed her nipple. As she realized what was happening, her eyes had widened and filled up with big tears. Roger had leaned into her then and kissed her soft neck.
She always tasted so sweet.
“Relax, my chocolate milk,” he had whispered in her ear as he caressed her trembling shoulders. “You’re beautiful….”
He hadn’t penetrated her that night because the arousal of merely touching her breast and tasting her had been enough to force an orgasm.
It was unfortunate that he hadn’t lasted longer, but Roger Wheeley was never very hard on himself. There would be plenty of nights still to come.
He lay in bed now, remembering the taste of Ellie’s neck lingering on his lips. It had been a while since he last went to her. Not because he wanted to wait, but because he was forced to. The little shit had told on him.
His fiancée had confronted him with it in his kitchen last December, slightly before Christmas. Was it true?! Had he touched her daughter?! Had he visited her room and fucked her?!
At first Roger had planned to deny the accusations, but then an evil stroke of genius flashed straight through his mind.
“Yes. Yes, it happened. It happened once!” he admitted.
His fiancée had looked at him, shell-shocked.
“But it’s not my fault! You know how she flaunts her looks with those short skirts! I’m only a man….”
And then he had said the ugliest part. That one part that was so damaging to the overweight woman’s self-esteem that she would never truly recover from it.
“And I think it’s your fault too, Stella. If you were just a little prettier, if you just took better care of yourself, I wouldn’t be so tempted by your daughter! Can’t you just lose some weight?”