He watched her struggle with a queer sort of fascination as her plump little body writhed helplessly on the bed. She clawed uselessly at her throat, trying to loosen a noose that wasn't there. Of course, she didn't know that. The flash of a camera blinded and dazed her for a moment, and he couldn't help but smile at her pained and bewildered expression. Her eyes were unfocused, darting everywhere, flicking from one spot to another to the tempo of her weakening gasps.
Every pitiful sound she uttered sent an almost arousing shudder through her spectator. Succinylcholine had been an excellent choice, he thought. It was so simple, so sneaky, so perfect for the whore. It was a nifty little muscle relaxant he'd found in the internet. Made the muscles in the throat so relaxed and weak that the victim couldn't even breathe. Well, that's not what it was made for, of course. It was supposed to help with respiratory surgeries and the like, but its effect was too beautiful to pass up. And the sweet hallucinogen he'd added into the mix only made the experience more enticing. What better way to watch her die than to see her night gown creep up her body as she struggled to catch a breath? Every movement pulled the fabric higher, gradually exposing new and delicious patches of skin to her observer's eye. The long line of her legs, muscles taut with strain, seemed like the work of a master artist.
Unable to restrain himself, he approached her on the bed. She had settled now as her body sank into unconsciousness. It wouldn't take long, but he wouldn't need a lot of time to enjoy her while she was still alive. He only needed her breathing for the foreplay.
Gently, he peeled the plastic glove off his hand and wiped it on the rough denim of his jeans. His excitement made his hands turn clammy and moist in the glove, and that was no way for them to be the first time she felt his touch. So he cleaned it briefly before placing his hand on her calf, which twitched gently beneath his fingers. His breath stuttered and his eyes fluttered closed as another rush of lust rippled through him, setting off that glorious humming in his mind. His attention returned to her and he began to slide his trembling hand farther up her leg, over her knee and onto her juicy thigh. With relish, he began to knead the warm flesh as his eyes scraped up her body, over her barely undulating chest and up to her face.
Her hands had fallen away from her neck, leaving her head in a halo of black-brown hair, spread from her earlier ministrations. Her eyes had closed when she fainted and the only sign of consciousness now was the occasional tremble of her barely parted lips. Thick, plump, purpling lips. That would be his prize, but to get there, he must traverse the many hills of her body.
A knife, pulled from a pocket, sliced through her thin gown like wind might cut through a clear sky. The whisper of cloth on metal only served to heighten the dramatic moment when her near nakedness was revealed to him after he'd thrown the ripped clothing open. He could feel the wetness of his hunger pooling in his mouth, and in other places, as he stared at her.
Immediately, his hands dove into the rolls that formed hills around her stomach. Some people did not understand why he preferred the plump ones. They were always so colorful during the chase. Some were insecure and so willing to trust anyone who showed interest. Others had learned to be strong, to be independent. They'd realized they didn't have the figure to get big breaks for being a woman, so they learned to be tough and rely on no one else. Those were the ones that required finesse, a challenge all too welcome. All that was necessary was persistence and a little attention to detail. Take the time to prove you're the white knight they hadn't dared to hope for, and suddenly they're more soft and vulnerable than they'd ever been.
But that wasn't all. Oh no. The best part comes when his hands sink into her flesh and are surrounded by its soft warmth. The skin, so smooth, slides under hard hands like silk until they reach the breasts, and bliss. That was another thing. The breasts were almost always better. Juicy and large, they sit like twin jewels on her chest, waiting for him to ravish them. And that he did. There was no need to rush now. She would be gone soon, if she wasn't already, but her body would remain warm for several hours to come. He was almost done anyway.
Straightening, he let his eyes rake over her body once more as he took slow, careful steps away from the body. She looked just as beautiful through the camera lens, so he took care to frame the scene so the light just barely poured over her nakedness. Again, his passion overwhelmed him and his body begged for his attentions. He could deny his urges no more, so he let the camera fall into the open bag on the floor, even as he began to loosen his belt. Hungry eyes could not tear themselves from the feast before them, the sight calling to his sensibilities like a siren song. The heady intoxication of the moment put him into a haze, robbing all thoughts else from his mind as soon as the door clicked shut.
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