A little piece of fiction I wrote out of boredom on myspace, just to see how my twisted brain works. Completely unplanned, just follow wherever the words may go...
Jason watched the girl lead her mark into the alleyway. This wasn't the first time he'd watched her. Ever since the day they bumped into each other at the deli, he'd followed her. Watched her. Fantasized about her. Perhaps tonight she'd be his one and only. Perhaps not.
She said her name was Natalya. She smiled a rehearsed smile designed to hide any emotion that would betray the mark's erection. The only thing that mattered was that hard-on. Hard-on's made money, no matter what shape or form. Don't think about the past, don't think about home, keep it up, in every sense of the word.
Jason watched Natalya get down on her knees. She gently brushed the dirt below and hitched her skirt up slightly. She wasn't going to dirty that skirt. The night's still young. Jason watched, took a deep breath, and began sharpening the machete.
The mark's name was Gerald. Gerald Hart. Gerald was in advertising, an associate manager, which makes Gerald a busy man, and Gerald simply hasn't the time to court or flirt. He has no time for bars and clubs, the endless game of charades at night. Time is precious to Gerald, and if Gerald doesn't cum within the next ten minutes Gerald will be late for his wife's 38th birthday dinner at La Bernadine, and Gerald's wife is not an understanding woman.
Natalya held all of Gerald's four inches in her manicured hands and said a prayer, the same prayer she'd said dozens of times before, every single time. She moistened her mouth and gave Gerald a little kiss, a little peck, before taking all of Gerald in her mouth.
Jason's heart skipped a beat. Maybe he should just keep watching. Maybe he should at least wait a while longer. He checked the machete. It was sharp enough.
Gerald held onto the grim brick wall and wondered why his wife would only do it that one time.
Natalya tried to get the taste out of her head.
Jason came out of the shadows.
Gerald came.
Natalya swallowed.
Jason ran.
Gerald gasped.
Natalya's eyes caught sight of
Jason lifted the machete above
Gerald's head was gleaming with sweat. He reached for his wallet to pay
Natalya was caught off guard when she saw
Jason lunged his machete into
Gerald's stomach felt warm. Why did it feel warm? And wet. Didn't he cum inside the whore's dirty mouth? That's why his wife wouldn't do it. It's a whore's game, and so he went to one to get done what would've been merely five minutes of saltiness and a starchy after taste. He came in the whore's mouth. Not his stomach. So why was his stomach warm? Why was it wet? He'd never cum that much before. It didn't feel like he'd cum that much before. Cum isn't red. Was the light making the cum look red? Why was-
Jason struck his machete deep into Gerald's heart this time, twisting it as he pierced through his Armani suit, CK shirt and indespensable rib cage. Natalya got to her feet and lit up a cigarette.
"You didn't have to wait until he came," she said, smoke billowing out of her lips.
"They're easier to get once they've popped a load," he replied, pulling the machete out.
Gerald dropped to the ground. He felt someone feel inside his suit. This wasn't a girl. Girl's don't have hands this big. The whore's hands weren't this big.
"Nice wallet," said Jason, admiring the hand made leather.
"How much is in there?"
"About $2,000 in cash, some credit cards..."
Gerald thought about the time. He was late. He was definitely late for his wife's birthday.
"...car keys."
"He came in an Audi. I think he parked it down there." She pointed to the other end of the road. "God, did he ever wash his dick?" she said, spitting out remnants of Gerald's seed onto the gravel.
"Come on, Nat," said Jason, cleaning Gerald's blood off the blade, "let's hit up the deli and get that taste out your mouth. Cream cheese bagels."
Natalya fixed up her skirt and watched the mark breath his last breathe. As they walked away, Gerald's cellphone rang. On the other end of the phone his wife sat at La Bernadine alone, silently wishing her husband would just drop dead.
