He walked into the room and looked at the young woman tied to a dinner table chair, her legs bound to her arms behind the back of the chair. He put the gun he had been carrying down on the table next to her chair. She hung her head to one side as if drunk, or in this case drugged. He walked up to her, thought to himself that she was pretty, long black hair and big pouty lips. The kind that made fun of him in high school. He pulled her head up by her long hair and looked at her as if she were starting to come to, a moan escaped her lips, and she was out again. She was still well under the influence of the six Vicatin he had given her hours ago when he had first brought her to his basement. He laid her head against the back of the chair and gently stroked her face, then ran his hand down her neck, over her shoulders brushing her hair behind her. His hand shook a bit as he felt his way down her arm and then made a v-line for her breasts. They were small but perfect, the nipple small to match the breast, and a perfect milk white against his rough hands. He could feel his dick getting hard as he put a hand on each breast and rubbed gently. Her head was still against the back of the chair as he straddled her and kissed her roughly. Something he could never perfect, it is hard to kiss well when all you love are dead girls. He took one hand from her breasts and grabbed the back of her neck forcing her mouth closer to his. As he did this he undid the zipper on the front of his jeans and pulled his now fully erect dick out of his pants and began to softly stroke himself. Rubbing his dick against her chest with each down stroke, tottering in the sensation of her soft skin. He brought his hand down from her neck and over her breasts again just a moment, then he went down to her little black underwear. As he looked through their mesh at her well trimmed bush he felt himself getting harder and stroked himself faster, watching as a touch of precum formed at the tip of his dick. He brushed his free hand over her breasts again, twisting her nipple roughly. She moved her head and let out a small cry of pain as if from her dream. He twisted her nipple again, harder this time and her head rolled forward, her long hair brushing over his now ready to explode dick. He closed his eyes in the ecstasy of the smell of her shampoo, something faint maybe lavender, a flash of her in the shower through his mind, making his excitement all the more unbearable. He reached his hand under her panties and felt her legs tighten in subconscious fear, making him all the harder and closer to cuming. Her head rolled back to the side as he pushed his hand over her bush and into the warm space between her legs, barely reaching the moist hairs telling of the reward just beyond. His excitement was peaking and he pulled his hand out from her panties. He held his hand in the light for a moment and saw the small kisses of dampness from inside her. He stoked himself faster, his precum lubricating the final moments of pleasure. His free hand reached for the gun on the table next to the girl. He stroked himself harder, faster, stepping closer to the girl. He placed the guns barrel to her face, gently caressing her cheeks. He put the barrels end to her temple. She opened her eyes for a moment. Looking into his, still drugged and unaware of her situation. His finger was on the trigger, wavering only slightly, the pleasure in his groin working itself over his body, pulsing in his temples, the blood racing through his body as his hand did up and down his cock, faster and faster, harder. And in an instant, he felt it. His finger pulled back suddenly and he heard the ringing in his ears. The sound rang through his body and with one final stroke he felt every muscle in his body loosen, and he looked down at her black panties. Blood and cum mixing, running down between her snow white legs.
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