Confession of a Contract Killer

I wanted to have her. That simple. The decision came to me as I peered over at her dead brother, and I acted on it, pushing her away, my cock popping out of her mouth with a wet slurp as I lifted her up to her feet.

I forced her face to mine, and we kissed passionately, her tongue slipping past my lips and twirling with my own. She’d awakened desires and needs in me that I hadn’t felt for years, and I hated her for it. Hated her because I was nothing to her, and I knew it. She’d use me and throw me away like a dirty tissue after she’d blown her nose into it. I broke our embrace by taking a handful of hair and yanking her head backwards. She squealed, a sharp, loud and high pitched unearthly noise, in surprise and pain.

“Fuck!” she cursed, “That’s it! Treat me like the fucking filth I am. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you pathetic piece of shit?”

“Shut up,” I growled and tossed her onto the bed next to the corpse. She landed with a bounce, her hair flying up and down in a sexy tornado, her breasts flopping, and the movement caused her brother to bounce next to her as well, his dead arms flapping like those of a rag doll. As I walked back towards her prone naked body, the air was rank with the smell of blood.

I slid on top of her and sucked on one of her large breasts. I wanted to see if it was as sweet as it looked, and I have to admit, it was better than expected. Why do the worst women get all the best physical qualities? She moaned, pulled off my baseball cap, and ran her fingers through my hair. If I’m a sucker for anything, it’s for having a woman running her fingers through my hair. She spread her legs wide under me and pulled me higher, her legs now wrapped around my ass.

“Fuck me. Fuck me!” she demanded, and I decided to give her what she wanted. I didn’t enter her right away though because being a woman who probably always got what she wanted, I wanted to make her beg for it. I teased her with the head of my cock, rubbing it against a slit that was both warm and incredibly wet. She hissed, air escaping between her clenched teeth. Then she tightened her legs wrapped around me, forcing me into her with a quick thrust that shook her entire body. Like I said, she was used to getting what she wanted when she wanted.

Her pussy was like slipping into a warm bath after a long day. Her heat filled me, sheathed me in a coat of her needy femininity. I gyrated my hips, feeling the inside of her with my penis, searching for the spot that would set her world aflame. This was probably unnecessary as she’d most likely get off on the fact that her hired contract killer was fucking the shit out of her next to her dead brother, but I wanted to be sure that my dark haired demon got her money’s worth.

I found what I was looking for as she shivered upon contact and delivered slow, rubbing thrusts to the spot, pivoting my hips and filling her up with my girth. Her nails began to claw at my back, most likely leaving marks that I would have to explain if anyone saw me with my shirt off for the next week. Hell, it was worth it. She met my thrusts with her own, arching her back and slamming her own fleshy body into mine. Sweat began to glisten on her skin in the moonlight, glittering little diamonds that I licked up with my tongue.

After a few minutes of this, she began to blink rapidly, her teeth biting her bottom lip so hard to almost draw blood, her hair matted to her forehead in mounds sticky with sweat.

“Harder,” she squeaked in a barely audible whisper, and I sped up the pace. A low moan began to seep from out of her throat, gaining momentum as her body tightened under me, her pussy wrapping my cock around it in a choke hold before cumming with bucking shudders that made her body shake like a tree branch caught in a wild storm.

“Oh, ohh, ohhhh!” she gasped, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. As she finished, tears springing in her eyes, breathing in quiet sobs, I rolled to the right, away from her brother’s corpse, and pulled her on top of me. My silencer was still in one hand (pretty good to have done all this with only one free hand, huh?), and I pointed it at her exposed chest. Her bosom still heaved with heavy breaths from the orgasm she’d just experienced. She blinked at me.

“Ok, bitch. You’re going to get me off like I’ve never gotten off before, or I’m going to kill you,” I said, tightening the finger I had on the trigger. She pushed her breasts together over the barrel of my gun as if she was going to give it a titty-fuck.

“Prepare yourself,” she muttered and started to ride me.

I’d never been fucked harder in my life. She rode me as if in a panic, so fast and hard, I was sure that the bed was going to snap in two under us. The corpse of her brother kept bouncing up and down next to us, and he ended up bouncing right off of the bed, leaving nothing behind but a pillowcase smeared with blood and brains.

She took my hand in hers, guided the silencer to her face, and it took it in her mouth. She began to suck on it like it was the tastiest lollipop on God’s green Earth. All it took was a slip-up and her brains would be splattered on the ceiling in a decorative halo of chunky red and gray. The closeness of death and sex at this moment was so delicious I could taste it on my tongue. Her breasts flopped so wildly I thought she was going to knock herself out with them. Her vagina pounded into me, plunging my cock into her again and again in hard explosive strokes.

She began to scream in pleasure, holding the barrel of the silencer in her mouth with her teeth, her body again shaking in orgasm, and I came with her, uttering a primal yell, my balls tightening as they pumped a hot load of jism through my shaft and up into my dark haired demon’s tight wet cunt.

As it ended, my senses came back to me. The dark haired woman collapsed off of the bed and onto the hotel floor with a thud, rattling the lamp on the nightstand. For a moment, I thought my gun must have gone off (the silencer that is, my other gun had obviously already gotten off) and I had killed her. But then I heard her whimpering in post orgasm satisfaction.

“Oh my God, I’m going to have to find someone to have killed, so I can hire you again,” she muttered breathlessly.

I climbed off the bed, fished my clothes off the floor and dressed myself. I placed my cap on my head backwards and tucked my silencer into my trousers and under my jacket, out of sight. The dark haired woman watched me with her black eyes from her place on the floor. Her face didn’t change expressions as I walked towards the door.

“Will I ever see you again?” she tried weakly.

“No,” I replied as I disappeared into the hallway, but you could never be sure. Not in my profession, not in a life so ripe with coincidence and circumstance. Nothing was ever for certain. Not in New York.

So I left my dark haired demon with her dead brother and the hope that someday we might meet again.

But best of all, I left her wanting more.