Cross. Part One - Sex Stories

Cross. Part One

... the knife and tensed, waiting for the screech that would tell him his host was wide awake. After seconds that felt like eternity, he relaxed. There was absolute silence. Abraham grabbed his pen light from within the folds of his jacket and began to stalk about the room, quickly scanning for the spot he knew he would find. It turned out to be a ratty old mattress pushed into the corner of the room where the shadows hung deepest. There was blood soaked into the fabric. A lot of it. And a series of leather straps he knew all too well. Then he spotted exactly what he had expected, and hoped against. It was Tyler Greene. Or rather, it was what was left of him. Sprawled across the bloody mess of the mattress was a gray and emaciated husk of a man. To credit the kid, it was a huge husk. He must have been even bigger than his description, probably just shy of seven feet. His body had been completely drained of all moisture, and his dry arms and legs were still held within the leather belts that he had died in. So much for kink, he probably hadn’t even known he was being held towards the end of it. What a disgusting fetish, thought Abraham as he walked over to the shriveled corpse. He would have to take snapshots of his teeth to provide for the dental records, as there was sure to be no blood left in him. As he bent over Tyler Greene’s cadaver, Abraham noticed a glint of silver on his chest. He flashed his light over it and gasped. This stiff was wearing a cross. The implications of ...

... such a thing began to flood his mind, until Abraham heard footsteps on the metal stairs below. An entire life of training kicked in, and he immediately sprang to his feet, quickly but silently treading back the way he had come. Right as he was about to exit the den through the trash bag entryway, he spotted a dark form coming up the stairway from below. With no time to move or react, he simply leaned back against the cold concrete and waited. OOOO “Well, well, sugar. If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes, I don’t know what is,” he played it cool as the target arrived at the top of the stairs. He wasn’t wrong, either. This one was a real looker. She was a tall, leggy blonde with straight platinum locks and a body to die for. The kicker was, she didn’t have those exaggeratedly huge breasts or impossible curves Abraham had come to expect. Her tits were of medium size at best, no more than a single handful, each. But he realized that wasn’t her best charm. Not even close. As his eyes invariably wandered down the length of her body, he coulnd’t help but stare as her small waist gave way to a perfect curvature, and legs that simply wouldn’t fucking quit. They were spindly and long, but he could tell they were strong. Her perfect skin glowed in full view from the shortest of shorts that she wore down to her knee-high cowgirl boots. A real Daisy Duke type. What got him the most as his view careened back upwards, past her tied off flannel shirt, was the fullness of her lips. They were ...