Okay, so I been watching her at night, watching the gold light of her window streaming into darkness, and the shadows that crawl along the roofline. But she was the one that come on to me, all prettified in that short little dress showing her tits round and pointy and hard, the twitch of that saucy ass leaving a trail of cunt so thick, a man gets lost in a fog, can’t keep his mind where it belongs.
She was the devil dressed like a whore. She might of looked like the girl next door, but she weren’t nothing but a whore. And last night, she stood smack in front of the window, lifting her slip over her head. Her fingers, those fine, delicate stems, unhooked her bra. The straps slid down slow, like a dream you been guzzling and just like that, you’re falling down drunk, you’re whiskey blind with how you can see her in your head, her cunt, her warm pussy, nipples, silhouette of the moon.
She plays with her nipples, her breasts white, half-shadowed. Her body writhes.
That girl’s fire in the mouth, a double glug of white lightening banging like a jack hammer on the back of your skull.
Temptation. You got to kill it, got to put it away somewhere’s so it don’t get you. See, I’m a God‹fearing man. So it had to be done. And like I said, she come on to me. She stood naked, pressing her tits and cunt right against that window, and I saw her like a steam, like a mist flowing out into the night. And her eyes fixed on mine, those dark devil eyes.
I got her in the truck easy. Whore’s are like that, thinking they got a man all weak-kneed and crazy for what they got between the legs, that slick cavity, that creamy gash that sucks a man in and don’t let go. She thought she was working me. I shivered cause I saw old man Satan a-staring out at me from those eyes so young and brown and round and wet. My hand shook when I lit her cigarette. But she was cold, like a sheet of ice, frozen, cold-blooded like a snake.
“What’s that for?” she asked, seeing the wood palette, the rope, the plastic wrap.
“Delivery,” I said, slowing the truck down. I was driving the back edge of the coal yards. Nobody around.
She didn’t blink. Not once. Reached over and unzipped me without so much of a please and thank you. She grabbed my cock. Satan had a-hold of me, getting me hard and thick and pounding up into my eyes.
I shoved her down. I tied her tight, her elbows near touching in back. She made a little chirpy sound or two, but I stuffed her mouth. I covered those eyes fast. Satan will catch you in a spell quicker than you can blink. And I got to grabbing her tits and soft ass. She wiggled, squirmed. She was like peaches and plums, like you could sink in your teeth and juice would drip down your chin. Her skin was silk, like nothing I ever touched before, like something so fine you can’t help but fill your hands, squash and squeeze, fondle.
I tucked her into a ball and wrapped her tight to the palette. I drove over to the garage.
By that time she was making a awful fuss. Sweet little whore, I said, whispery and soft while I pricked her nipples with the tip of my knife. Devil girl. Cunt. My knife was searching for the devil, drawn like a magnet to her dark, humid cunt, scent of girl, smoky-sweet, salty, blunt.
I got her on her feet and wired her, spread over the anvil. When the devil’s in a girl, you got to use special tools, metal, wire, hot shavings from the grinder. You got to tape her mouth and eyes, tape her pussy shut. You get her dancing, impaled on the handle of a push broom.
She cried. Yes she did. Because I was doing my best to help that poor girl, using wire and iron to drive the devil out. I whipped her with wire. I beat her breasts red, her pussy pink and striped, her round soft, ass marked with hot bright lines. I whipped her hard enough to beat the devil back.
Tonight her window is dark. I watch shadows crawl along the roofline. I think of her tied and locked in a glass case in the lower room. That’s where she belongs. I take another hit of white lightening. It’s a fire in my throat and eyes. But she’s a mist, a bleached fog that passes through my mind. Even now, I hear her cries.
Temptation beats my temples like a gong, the bleary longing of my mind. And the empty sky, deep low moan of the devil, rumbling night, dark blackened sky.
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