They clipped their work IDs to their lab coats, which were white as clouds except for the smeared blood and banana baby food on Jourdan’s lapel. She painted her lips red, extending the stick to resemble a dog’s hard on. Her fingers combed her night-coloured hair into a knot atop her dome. The décolleté on her pastel blue blouse revealed an overflowing brassière. She licked her lips and said, “Did you remember to tell the nanny bedtime is at nine?”
“Yeah.” Durmont offered her a dollop of hand sanitizer and they both rubbed the clear liquid into their hands before entering through the grey doors. They turned their cellphones to vibrate then Jourdan pressed play on the iPod attached to the sound system. Joan Osborne’s What if God was one of us pleasantly penetrated the steel filled room.
“Ready?” asked Jourdan from behind a table.
“There are no gloves,” Durmont said, barely eyeing the tray of instruments next to his table.
“Fuck it.”
They ripped the white sheets off, exposing the naked corpses.
“Wach ya get?”
Durmont’s eyes examined the chart that rested on the cold iron bed.
“Double suicide. You got her. I got him.” His eyes widened and his smile matched Jourdan’s.
“Oh fun!” Jourdan began to unbutton her shirt, allowing the chilled air to caress her chest cupped in black lace.
Durmont loosened his tie, bringing it over his head and dropping it to the floor. Jourdan was clad in a pair of panties that disguised the scar on her right hip and the front of her stiletto pumps came to a dangerous point. She hopped onto the table and moved like a feline from limp ankles to straddle the woman’s stomach. Durmont, in a pair of...
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...lvis, at times the bloodless baloney pony slipped between Durmont’s crack, causing an exhale of enchanted elation. Jourdan noticed his excitement and used her claw like phalanges to rapidly penetrate Durmont, alternating between middle and pointer finger. His smile told her she was doing right by him. She bucked him harder like an uncontrollable bull as his facial expression started to look like a baby who was constipated. He came. She lifted herself and the snail trail ran away from the lips between her legs.
Durmont slammed her forward onto the table and her mouth kidnapped the lifeless pecker while Durmont jammed himself into her. She was being spit-roasted, moaning as Durmont roughly ravaged her until they both climaxed. They kissed.
“If he weren’t dead there might have been an angry dragon situation and I wouldn’t have mind tasting him.”
She imitated Sethe, talked the way she did, laughed her laugh and used her body the same way down to the walk, the way Sethe moved her hands, sighed through her nose, held her head. Sometimes coming upon them making men and women cookies or tacking scraps of cloth on Baby Suggs’ old quilt, it was difficult for Denver to tell who was who. Then the mood changed and the arguments began. Slowly at first. A complaint from Beloved, an apology from Sethe. A reduction of pleasure at some special effort the older woman made. Wasn’t it too cold to stay outside? Beloved gave a look that said, So what? Was it past bedtime, the light no good for sewing? Beloved didn’t move; said, ‘Do it,’ and Sethe complied”
When he came into the little room she unbuttoned her blouse and smiled. He was too young to be dazzled by her nipples, but he was old enough to be bored by the flat taste of mother's milk, so he came reluctantly, as to a chore, and lay as he had at least once each day of his life in his mother's arms, and tried to pull the thin, faintly sweet mild from her flesh without hurting her with his teeth. (13)
“I knew he was going to kill me. I did not realize then that I was an animal already dying.”
However, as she dipped her hand into her panties, and displayed her digits, glistening with her arousal, his hips had bucked, and his cock throbbed painfully, entrapped in his trousers, as he groaned in need and lust. It was Lexi, who turned on him, and the intervening years had changed a thing. Eagerly he sucked her juices from her fingers, and tongue dripping with them, thrust it into her mouth, as his actions became more needy and urgent. Needing more of her, the folds of her pussy felt like silk against his palm, and her tight, dripping tunnel, like heaven when he thrust his fingers inside her; panting, and writhing as he slid them in and out, anticipating the feel of her tight, pulsing walls clamped around his engorged shaft as he sunk himself balls-deep inside her. "Oh fuck." Eyes narrowed and darkened with lust, he held her eyes, "I'm so fucking hard for you, baby," to watch her face when she responded to his
"Is this some sort of fucking joke?" The man hissed in a voice reminiscent of the Tom that had raped her, as, having brought her to her feet with him, he gripped her by one arm, and shoved his free hand between Lila's legs. Moments later, he'd twisted her panties aside, and forced his digits into her pussy to grasp the small cylindrical metallic object, which still buzzed when he ripped it free, and held it up to her face. "What's this, baby? Trying to get back at me for that night, or you just need to get yourself all worked up, before you'll sleep with me again? Do I sicken you that
Her full heart-shaped lips with their natural light rose color beckon him to take and explore the depths of her luscious mouth. He brushed his lips against her all too tempting mouth. As a small sigh escaped her lips, his tongue slid inside to savor her sweet, spicy nectar. With a wanton nature, she nipped his playful probing tongue. This slip of a female was without guile, she made her needs be known to him without a word. With his Selkie, heighten senses, which enable him to hear her heart race from the pleasure of their kiss. Even as jaded as he was, he experienced a quickening of his own heartbeat. After such a kiss he had to have more, this made him question just who was the predator and who the prey in this
Then they come together with low, animal moans. He falls to his knees on the steps and pressed his face to her belly, curving a little with maternity. Her eyes goes blind with tenderness as she catches his head and raises him level with her. He snatches the screen door open and lifts her off her feet and bears her into the dark flat. (Williams 67)
on her knees, exposed his buttocks and shoved the last bit of food she had in the
He was everything she desired, and more. It felt like she’d finally found someone to satisfy her needs, and that was saying something. “Then you will have to take care of me,” Her voice was tender, almost a soft, playful way of defying his words. As much as she enjoyed his control, she would need to get used to being able to completely accept it. After all, something like that needs more trust. A soft, cry of pleasure ebbed from within her as she felt the warmth of his finger slide into her. Almost immediately, her hips began to rise up toward him, her body clearly approving of his actions. The feeling of his fingers against her back put the woman at ease, enjoying every moment of his
Constance felt the horrible emotions swirling in her chest boil even hotter as Jacob thrust himself painfully deep, his thick shaft hurting her as it stretched her open, and his words wounding what dignity she had left as he whispered about her ass being perfect, like some package of meat in the butcher's section. "As if you have any right to judg...." Her word cut off with a squeal of pain that she clamped off with a bite of her lip at the pain of him in her, fully deep, his body pushing her legs back even harder and making the angle that much more painful and awkward. And her breath that much shorter. Worst of all was the look of joy on his face, like he'd converted to her religion and gone to heaven by sending her to hell. She could see
“Perhaps I should have checked the clip before deciding to shoot Sam.” He put his pistol into his gun holster and looked up at James.
Adrienne Rich was a very critically acclaimed and widely read poet of her era. Ms. Rich was a rebellious pioneer in expressing her viewpoints through her poetry in what was considered highly taboo topics of her time, such as, politics, lesbianism, and feminism.
Lucy rolled over onto her back to get belly rubs. After a few minutes, Susi stood up, and sniffed the air. “What is that delightful smell?” She asked.
Loisel replied with “ What do you think I have to go in.” MMe. Loisel husband “hadn’t given that a thought.” So he suggested that MMe. Loisel wears the dress that they go to theater in.”Thats looks quite nice, I think.” Then ‘He stopped talking, dazed and distracted to see his wife burst out weeping.” MMe. Loisel husband asks whats wrong. Then “by sheer willpower she overcame her outburst and answered in a calm voice while wiping the tears from her wet cheek, Oh nothing. Only I don’t have an evening dress and therefor I can’t go to that affair. Give the card to some friend in the office whose wife can dress better then I can.”So he asked “let's see Mathilde. How much would a suitable outfit cost- one you could wear for other affairs too- something very simple?” MMe. Loisel took a little bit to reply but finally said “four hundred francs.” When she said that all the color dranined from her husband face. The ression for that was he was saving up to buy a new hunting rifle to go hunting with all his friends this summer, but he gladly gave her the money to make her happy. So she went and bought a beautiful dress. When she got the dress she was happy with
Her spouse is stripped exposed and dissected before her eyes; she is group assaulted. The swarm made love to her. She finished not have to take off any one of her bangles. They were all crushed as she lay in the way, being taken by exclusive also an alternate and an alternate. That ought to have presented to her a great deal of good fortunes. (147)