Our protagonist finds himself tasked with replacing what he broke before the clock runs out. As he navigates the puzzling clues to his objective, he crosses paths with an old annoyance who is a little to eager to get her next fix.
Leaves from a Predator's Diary: Part 2 - Debts Incurred and Repaid
**** This is the second part of the series. The events below follow directly after those of Part 1: Fruits of the Night****
My head hurt - a dull throbbing that seemed to spread from the back to my spine and indeed, my entire body. My eyes closed, I drowsily wondered whether I had drunk too much. What time was it? Was it a holiday? I tried to reach for my phone, which was usually kept next to my bed when I went to sleep. But I couldn't - something prevented me from moving my hands. I could feel them held tightly together. Were they bound?
The possibility made me try to open my eyes. Another attempt at moving my hands confirmed that I was indeed restrained. How? The events of the previous night flooded back into my mind. The walk down the alley, the injured girl, the factory, the rhythmic assault on her cunt.... and then, the sudden pain. Had I been knocked out? By whom? The girl's boyfriend?
Fear began to fill my heart as I realized I was laid on my side, my hands bound behind me. Some sort of cloth covered my face, allowing me only a hazy view of my surroundings. I was in a large room, and it was dimly lit. Beyond that, however, I could make out precious little. Did the councillor or his son find me? They would have figured out that someone had gone into the factory if they had found the factory gate. I should have been more careful, more aware of my surroundings. Yet there was little time for regret - I had to figure out what exactly was my predicament, and how I could get out of it!
I realized my feet were also bound, making movement nearly impossible. With growing trepidation, I called out - "hello! Is someone there?" I wasn't sure whether any sound made it out of the sack that covered my head. There was no response. Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed. I counted the chimes - ten chimes. Was it 10 AM, or 10 PM? How long was I out? I had probably been missed at work, but I doubted anyone would bother looking for me so soon. They were only too happy to dock my pay.
But that was the least of my concerns. I called out again, but to no avail. The clock in the distance kept ticking, keeping rhythm with the throbbing in my head. I wanted to shift my position, but all I managed to do was roll sideways until I was lying on my back - or to be more exact, my bound hands. I had seen movies where heroes managed to loosen their bonds and escape. Some even had a knife tucked into their shirt sleeve or boot. I had none. Would I have taken some additional precautions if I'd known my night would involve raping a girl? I wasn't sure.
As my mind wandered as I desperately tried not to keep thinking about my current situation, I heard the clock chime again. It was 11. An hour had passed, and still no one had come for me. Had they left me to die? Suddenly, I realized that I was quite hungry, and tired. Fucking the slut had been exhilarating, but it must also have been tiring. Maybe with some regular practice....
My ears caught the sound of muffled voices in the distance. Suddenly, the light grew and hands grabbed me by the shoulder. Before I could protest, I had been hoisted to a sitting position, then dragged up until I found my feet. I felt hands moving around my ankles, and suddenly my feet could move again. The hands returned to my shoulder, pushing against my sternum. Without a word, I knew I had to move forward.
From the change of lighting, I could make out that I was made to cross the dimly lit room, then moved into some sort of hallway. Then out into another room, and then into total darkness. The cool breeze that had been my companion was back. I was outside - but where?
Suddenly, the pressure against my back ceased and the man kicked me in the knees. They buckled, causing me to kneel. The bag on my head was finally ripped off. As my eyes adjusted to the twilight, I realized that I must have been passed out for almost a day, if not more. It was nighttime again, and I was in a large courtyard. There was a medieval fountain in the middle of the courtyard, and some chairs beside it. On a small table sat some glasses and what I assumed to be a bottle of liquor. All around the courtyard were buildings, some with lit windows.
Before I could make further deductions, a gruff voice behind me spoke. "Here he is Sir. He was still knocked out when you left a few hours ago, so I did not bring him in then."
For a moment, I wondered if he was talking on the phone, since there appeared to be no one else in the courtyard. But I was wrong. A figure emerged from my right, walking with slow and measured steps until he settled into one of the seats by the fountain. The night masked his face, but I could make out a pair of sharp, merciless eyes gazing at me. They seemed to be measuring me. For what?
"Quite a mess you made back there." He said as he lit a cigarette. For a moment, I wondered if feigning innocence was an option. Probably not. Yet I did not know how to respond. His voice did not suggest anger, or a desire for retribution. If the man was related to the girl I had ravished, his voice would probably not be so measured.
"We wondered where the girl had run off to. It didn't occur to us that she would be accosted right outside my cousin's home. If we had deduced it earlier, we might have stopped your little party earlier. But anyway...."
Cousin? Was he related to the councillor? My heart started pounding. The entire family had a wicked reputation - from trafficking drugs to underworld dealings. Who was I dealing with, and what plans had I messed up? If I'd known, I'd have never laid a finger on that girl. Now I was kneeling before what I could only presume was a ruthless member of the underworld, and one who could easily kill me and dispose of my body.
"Tell me, did you know she would be there?"
The question was direct and required an answer. My mouth felt dry, and for a moment, I struggled to form words. But a slight nudge from the man behind me caused me to blurt "No! No I was just...just passing by. I live nearby, and was taking a walk Sir. She just happened to meet me and-"
The man began to laugh. He seemed relieved. "It is as I presumed - no one in their right mind would assign such a high-value cunt to your tender mercies!" High value? Was she a "kept" girl, one that I had messed up? "But, you did what you did. Now we have to find a replacement because no one will pay anything more than a pittance for those damaged goods!"
"Tell me, can you find a replacement?"
A replacement what? Girl? Where would I find another girl? And what would I have to do to get her? Should I offer her money, or....
"Tell me, can you get me someone equally valuable?" His voice was rising, and I realized that my answer would probably decide whether I could get out of this night in one piece. My heart pounding, I stammered "yes Sir, I can try Sir."
My schoolboyish answer amused him. "You can try eh? Well, that's the only way you can pay back for what you have done. You do have a certain set of skills that can be-umm- honed for our uses. But you must first prove you can wield them. That what happened last night was not a random burst of libido. Prove it by finding another girl - and bring her to me."
My mind buzzed with questions. Now that I knew that my demise was not imminent, I found that I needed to understand his requirements better. What sort of girl? Girls roamed the streets of the city, and there were plenty of pretty ones to choose from. But how would I get her? Would I offer money? Would I kidnap her? Would I....
At this moment, the man clicked his fingers and a couple of figures emerged from the shadows. From their silhouettes, I could make out that they were young cunts - no older than the one I had left battered on the factory floor. They were clad in skimpy clothes - negligees or whatever they were called. Each of them carried a tray - one with bowls and plates, another with glasses and a bottle. One by one they knelt in front of the man as he chose his food. For waitresses, they seemed far too subservient, and far too patient. Eventually, he whispered something to one of the girls. She put her plate down on one of the tables and turned around, approaching me.
As she drew closer, her face came into view, and for a moment, I thought I saw a ghost! It was the girlfriend who had been murdered by the councillor's son. But, how could it be? I kept staring in amazement as she began to pass me by. The man behind me, however, stopped her by grabbing her left tit. The girl obediently paused, letting the man feel her up. He moved from one tit to the other, groping her as she stood with her gaze lowered. Our eyes met, and she must have seen the amazement in mine. There was no acknowledgement though, and after a moment, he let her go. She moved past us and out of sight.
"DJ, untie him. We will give him another chance!" DJ, who had just been groping the girl's tits, rummaged around my hands. I felt the knots give way and I could finally use all four appendages again. Instinctively, I stood up and wondered if I had transgressed the limits of my freedom. But the boss motioned me to come closer, until I was standing about two feet away from him. While my vision had been filled with the supposedly murdered girl, the other one had moved from serving food to kneeling in front of the boss. Grabbing a fistful of her luxurious black hair, he began to work her mouth on his member.
"We will give you another chance - but one and one only. DJ will give you the specifics of the type of girl we want. Who she is and how you get her is not our concern. However, you must ensure that there is minimal noise after her disappearance. If you are caught, you are on your own. If you drag the police behind you, you will end up in Natasha's garden. You have three days."
He held up three fingers covered in precious stones. As I nodded, he dismissed me with a wave of his hand, his focus returning to the girl between his legs. Not knowing how to take my leave, I awkwardly bowed before turning to see DJ start moving towards the direction the girl had gone. Without further ado, I followed him.
After a few steps, a large arched doorway came into view, framed against the night sky. Given the number of stars, I had to assume that we were quite far from the city and its polluted skies. The heavy door opened and the first girl stood meekly, holding something that I could not quite make out. DJ nodded towards her, then beckoned me. All three of us passed through the door, and it thudded closed behind us.
I found myself in a large room. It was decorated with portraits of religious figures, interspersed with opulently dressed ones whom I did not recognize. In the middle of the room hung a chandelier that must have been at least a century old. DJ motioned us under the light of the chandelier. He took out a small diary and then tore a couple of pages from it. Folding them, he placed them in my shirt pocket. Before I could ask, he took out a small cellphone from his trousers and also put it in the same pocket. That done, he nodded towards the girl, who had by this time moved behind me. I felt her gentle fingers on my biceps, feeling me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her check what appeared to be a - syringe? The next moment, it was plunged into my body, and she was draining its contents into my blood. For the second time in two days, my mind went blank.
This time, I was woken by a familiar voice. It was my father, who occasionally dropped by during weekends. Since the chain of events had started on a Friday evening, I assumed it was halfway through Sunday. "Son, are you alright? I found your door unlocked and you fast asleep. It has been hours but you did not wake up. Is everything alright?" If he only knew!
Shaking off the delirium, I found myself half-naked in my own bed. My shirt was nowhere to be found. Remembering what DJ had put in my shirt pocket, I looked around frantically, before spying my shirt neatly folded at the foot of the bed. Something about the way it had been folded told me it was done by female hands. My father was checking my forehead. Satisfied that I did not have fever, he went into the kitchen. His phone rang, and I heard him talking about how I had woken up and he would have my lunch ready shortly. I took this opportunity to pick up the shirt and search it. The pages and the phone weren't there! As my father continued to speak in the kitchen, I began to frantically search the room. I did not have a lot of furniture, and within a couple of minutes every desk drawer, cabinet and cupboard had been searched thoroughly. That is when I realized that my wallet was missing as well. I looked around, and located it next to some of my other things on the kitchen counter. Pushing past my father, I picked up my wallet. Opening it, I found that tucked among the currency notes were the pages. But where was the phone?
A more thorough search of the house would require my father to take his leave. I gestured to him to finish his dialogue. As he disconnected, I told him that I was urgently required at some work site. "But it's Sunday son!" "I know, I know. But there is no time."
He seemed disappointed. Realizing that he would have to leave as well, he informed me about the homemade goodies he had brought and then asked - "Son, there is one more thing." Saying this, he hesitated. I knew this hesitation all too well. "How much dad?" "About the same as last month. The treatment is ongoing, and my pension...." his voice trailed off. I nodded, and motioned him to gather his stuff as I got dressed. Half an hour later, I dropped him off at the station, my bank balance substantially impoverished. Rushing back, I began to search the usual places once again. Nada, nothing. Where was the phone?
In my haste, my wallet had fallen from my pocket. As I noticed it on the floor, I also noticed the pages that were neatly tucked inside. Out of curiosity, I pulled them out. They were a number of coordinates, along with what appeared to be a string of numbers and letters. There were at least 10, followed by the words "Contact - under bed"
It took a moment for me to register that "contact" meant the phone. Taking a flashlight, I dropped down under the bed and lit up the boards. That's when I saw a small black bulge at the far corner of the bed. Reaching out and grabbing it, I pulled hard and yanked it off. Clutching my prize, I emerged. Turning on the phone, I found that while there was a signal, there were no contacts. Presumably, the phone was a burner phone meant to contact the boss (or DJ) if I needed any clarification, or to inform that I had what they wanted. It was time to figure out exactly what they wanted.
The coordinates were easy to figure out. They involved places all around the city, some being in residential neighbourhoods, some in the office district, and two near premier colleges in the city. Yes, all of these could have pretty girls living, working or studying there. But which ones? I dared not make any assumptions, since picking up the wrong girl could place me at the wrong end of whatever weapon of choice the boss preferred.
But the string of letters and numbers made little sense. I picked up the first one. 2417134B262884F. Each set of coordinates had this string next to it. The numbers varied, but there was always a single letter near the middle, and sometimes, near the end too. They seemed to be identification markers, but I could name a single national identification card that had that particular format. I figured that I would simply have to visit the locations and figure something out.
Noting down the locations in digital diary, I decided to grab a bite and head out immediately. My head still felt groggy, but I presumed that I had slept more than I had in the previous week over the last two days. Wondering if my young victim had had a similarly restful two days, I locked the house and set off. The nearest locations were all residential complexes. On a Sunday evening, they were filled with people relaxing in the swimming pools, or walking their pets or younger family members in the lush green lawns. I had always wanted to own a flat, and could probably afford to save up enough for a decent one bedroom apartment. But the monthly drain that was my mother's treatment meant that I had to lead a hand-to-mouth existence.
My first target was located at Medallion Towers, a sprawling gated complex with its own swimming pool and lawn. There had to be at least 50 apartments in the complex. The guard at the gate loitered lazily, looking bored. This laxity was deceptive, though, and I knew from my prior experience as a salesman that I had to find connections inside the complex if I was to get in. Lighting up a cigarette near the gate, I kept an eye on the people moving in and out. As I moved to my third fag, I heard an elderly couple walk in, their infirmity slowing them enough for me to catch a few lines of conversation. They were talking about their son, who was returning from the US. As the elderly man entered through the gate, he paused to check if he was still carrying the keys. I glimpsed the apartment number emblazoned on the keyring. It was enough.
About ten minutes after they had passed through, I confidently walked up to the guard. The elderly couple's son was expected soon, wasn't he? I was his school friend, and hoped to meet him. He looked me up and down, then nodded. I made a false entry in the address book and walked inside. Ahead of me was a sign telling newcomers which apartment was located where. There were eight towers, and all had ten floors each. There were six flats on each floor, numbered A through F. My mind went back to the string, which, surprisingly, ended with an F. Would the number preceding it suggest the floor? 4F? That meant the fourth floor? But which tower? I decided to try each tower in turn. Pretending to be an agent for a leasing firm, I made inquiries at the reception desks of each of the towers. Towers 1, 4 and 7 did not have any occupants. Those of Tower 3 were away on a holiday and could not be contacted. That left towers 2, 5, 6 and 8. Further observation over the next two hours informed me that 4F on Tower 2 was occupied by the same elderly couple I had seen at the gate. They had only one son, and he was married. The flats in towers 5 and 6 were occupied by families that did not fit the profile. Only 8F remained.
Confident that I was finally narrowing down my search after zig-zagging across towers and arousing a fair amount of suspicion among the guards, I headed into Tower 8. Taking the back stairs while the guard was distracted, I strenuously climbed up the stairs until I was on the fourth floor. Walking down the hallway, I caught my breath in front of 8F. I had no idea what ruse I could use. Whoever lived here was not too outgoing, and their mail gave away little about who they were. But I wasn't going to go back empty-handed.
I rang the bell. I had dressed in semi-formal clothes, and could pass for a young professional, a salesperson or a conman depending on whom you asked. Steps could be heard approaching the door. They paused just short, and after a moment, the door opened. Standing before me was a woman in her mid-40s. Clad in a nightgown that was slit from the waist down, she eyed me with curiosity. "Darling, you didn't tell me you'd have guests. What do you want?"
"Good evening Ma'am. I was hoping to meet Mr. Da-" Before I could finish the sentence, a loud thud was heard as Mr. D slid off the bed and then drunkenly approached me. "Whazza want?" "Your-um daughter....is required to...." I stammered as I was forced to cook up something on the spot. I didn't have to, though, since at the mention of "daughter" the woman began laughing hysterically and the man started slapping her thighs. "Mr. whoever, he doesn't have any daughter or any relative for that matter. Except me!" This seemed to piss him off, as he grabbed her hard and began to push his hands into her crotch.
If it had not been for the crushing disappointment I felt at that moment, I would have turned on my heel and rinsed my eyes of the sight of a hairy baboon groping a washed out whore who was probably his sister or cousin. Gathering my bearings, I realized that the sparsely furnished flat in the background couldn't possibly hide a nubile young female, and I was sure the boss wanted nothing with the middle-aged MILF before me. Without responding, I turned away and began making my way slowly down the stairs. Exiting the building, I went back to the sign indicating where the houses were located. What had I missed? Should I go over the towers 2, 5 and 6 again?
Refusing to give up, I headed to the fourth floor of tower 2. Preparing another fake introduction involving their son, I rang the bell and waited. No footsteps. I rang again. Nothing. I tried the doorknob, and to my surprise, it opened. Peeking inside, I spied the elderly lady sitting in front of a television whose volume was turned way up. Strangely, she appeared to be sleeping amidst the cacophony coming from the tube. To my left was one of the bedrooms. Her husband appeared to be sleeping on the bed. Realizing that there was probably no one in the house, I moved more confidently. The house had two more rooms, one of which was locked from outside. This probably belonged to their son. The other, however, appeared to be slightly open. Pushing the door gently, I saw a bra hanging from the bed, and a bathrobe lying on the floor.
Before I could observe any further, however, someone pushed past me and ran out lugging what appeared to be a large suitcase. For a moment, I stood there, wondering why I had not considered the possibility that there might be a female guest in the house. Then, out of sheer instinct, I decided to follow the apparition. I rushed out into the empty hallway. The elevator read floor 9 and was descending. Rushing into the fire exist stairwell, I heard caster wheels clatter a few floors down. I gave chase, jumping across landings in the hope of catching the man.
Yet by the time I reached the ground floor, the man was already wheeling the suitcase out of the building. I realized that I could rush after him, but that would create a scene. Also, I could simply be wrong again, and end up making an ass of myself. Thus, I held back inside the building until he was almost through the gate. Then with quick steps, I followed again. The man was sweating heavily, presumably from having to lug what must have been a very heavy suitcase. His speed had slowed, and it changed to a leisurely stroll as he turned a corner and into narrow side street. The sun was beginning to set, and in the lengthening shadows, I saw him drag his burden to a waiting black car. I began to run. Just as I was about to catch up, though, the rear door opened, and out stepped a familiar figure - DJ!
The man stopped respectfully in front of him, and pushed the suitcase towards him. With what must have been superhuman strength, DJ hoisted the suitcase onto the back of the car, before unzipping it. By this time, I was close enough to see that curled up inside the suitcase was a naked girl. She was a true stunner, with beautiful fair skin and perfectly proportioned tits, waist and hips. Her brownish hair was messed up, suggesting that she may have been taking a bath. Her mouth was gagged by a bra, and her arms tied with the lace ties of her bathgown. She seemed to have been knocked out. DJ checked her pulse, then pulled the girl into his arms. Someone inside the car opened the back compartment, into which he threw the girl.
Looking up, he saw me, sweaty and disheveled, standing behind the man who had actually delivered the goods. Walking past him, he grinned. "Better luck next time boy. You almost succeeded, but you were up against a pro. Next time, maybe pick something from the middle of the list instead of the top one?" With that, he motioned the man to join him in the car. As I stood processing his advice and my defeat, the car whizzed past me into the sunset.
Dejected, I slowly made my way back to my den. I had assumed that I was the only one on the hunt, and I was wrong. What I had been given was a shopping list that anyone could pick up and deliver. But how could I know which ones were already completed, and which ones were active? One of my three days was gone, and I could not afford to spend hours observing only to come away empty-handed.
As I turned into the home stretch, I noticed someone standing in front of my unlit door. Moving closer, I realized it was the landlord's agent who had come to collect the month's rent. To be more specific, the agent had sent his insufferable sister, Riya. A spoilt brat, she had recently turned into an adult and had instantly received a brand new sports bike. It was usually driven by her equally bratty boyfriend, with her riding pillion while filming reels.
As I approached, she turned curtly. "You're late."
"Had to drop my father off at the station."
"Liar. He left by the 4:30 local train. Now it's almost 8."
"Give me a break. I had some other work to do."
"Like stalking girls?"
Her tone was bitchy and insulting as usual, but something in those words sent a shiver down my spine. Did she know what I had been up to? As I pretended to casually unlock the door, my mind raced through possibilities. Could she have been in the alley as DJ opened the suitcase? Could she have known the girl who was taken?
Without any words, I pushed into the house and turned on the lights. She came in after me, uninvited and acting as if she owned the place.
"You know when your rent is due right?"
"Yes, the 10th of the month. And it is the 9th. I was going to pay him tomorrow itself."
"Well he decided to send me to collect."
"One day before it comes due?" Something in her statement did not add up.
"Yes, he's got big expenses this month and anyhow, what difference does one day make?" My suspicions aroused, I decided to play for time.
"Do you have the rent receipt book on you? He usually sends in a pre-signed receipt you know."
"Y-yes I was about to mention that. He said he would give you the receipt tomorrow morning."
"Well, why don't you go and ask him to give you the receipt right now? I can go to the ATM in the meantime."
For a moment, she stood there, wondering what her next move should be. Something about the way she spoke told me I wouldn't see any receipt if I paid up right now. Suddenly, she turned around and began to head out. As she moved though, she dropped a small plastic packet. Not realizing this, she kept moving. I swooped in and picked it up. The packet was a clear pouch containing some blue pills and a small slip of paper.
"You dropped something." As she turned, I held up the packet and pretended to start opening it. The bitch's eyes went wide, and she lunged at me. I had seen this coming, and sidestepped her. She lost her balance and crashed into the floor. I moved to the door and closed it. She raised herself and decided that I was too far away (and close to the door) to be a worthy target.
"Getting high, are we?" it was my turn to turn the screws. "They're some medicines for a friend." she said defensively, extending her hand to take them back. I dodged her again. "Quit bluffing. I know these pills - they're all the rage in the colleges and tuition centres these days. Question is - does your brother know?"
Her sullen silence told me everything I needed to know. Looking over her, I realized that the side-effects of the drug were already starting to show. Her skin appeared pale, and there were deep circles around her eyes. "So this is what you've been doing with the rent your brother was supposed to collect." The silence was deafening.
"Two of the tenants were complaining that they received no receipts. I'm sure they'd love to know why!"
The girl's face was steadily turning red, and her legs were starting to shake. "Your brother had to pay from his own pocket to cover up, didn't he? Bet he would love to try these pills too!" Tears began to form in her eyes.
When she looked up, the bitchy attitude was gone. In a trembling voice, she beseeched me - "Please, I need the pills. I have headaches, mental breakdowns, all sorts of bad stuff. These pills help me stay alive. Recently, the old dealer was wiped by his rivals, and now I must get them at a higher price. I don't earn enough...." Her voice trailed off.
"Please, I'll do anything but please just give me some money tonight. I haven't paid for these pills in full, and I'll be in big trouble if I can't pay. I'll repay you within a few days. Please!" She started approaching me again as she spoke, the desperation turning into tears that glistened down her cheeks. I'd met this girl dozens of times, and every time I had been put off by her attitude. Now here she was, practically ready to do anything I asked for. The possibilities began to race through my head. She had a decent figure, and I had enough leverage to make sure she kept quiet about anything that happened in the house. Plus, after my narrow defeat, I needed some release.
"You would do anything?"
The tone of my voice probably told her how things were likely to proceed. I expected her to flinch, to become embarrassed. Instead, she seemed relieved. Before I could say anything else, She was unzipping her track jacket, exposing her decent cleavage. The jacket was unceremoniously pulled off, exposing a nice set of B cups on a shapely chest. Her waist had been plumper, but now I could see the outlines of her ribs poking through. She was now clad in a simple white bra and track pants.
As I nodded in approval, she continued her impromptu striptease. The pants came off, exposing a shapely pair of legs. I made her turn around so I could admire her white panty covered ass. Putting the drugs in one of the ashtrays while her eyes were turned away, I walked up behind her. My hands wrapped her slender waist, feeling their way up until they cupped her soft tits. Her long hair smelled nice, and I buried my face in her curls.
"You're a beautiful girl" I said as I began to gently knead her breasts. She did not respond, but moved her head slightly to kiss me on my forehead. I pulled her closer, until my cock was pressed between her ass mounds. I rotated her and pulled her head closer into a passionate embrace. My mouth found hers, and we kissed passionately. My mouth went down to her chest, before my hands gently unhooked her bra. She let it fall from her shoulders, exposing her melons to my face. I buried my face in them, feeling their soft flesh yield to mine. She cupped her tits from the side, pushing my face further into her cleavage. I began to suck and lick her nipples, circling my tongue on the sensitive brown nubs. Soon, she was pressing me harder into her chest, caressing my hair as I went to town on her tits.
As her excitement grew, she let go of my face and dropped to her knees. Grabbing the waistband of my jeans, she pulled down the garment and my short with it. My dick, pulsing for its next prize, sprang in her face. Unfazed, she pressed her tits until my dick was completely enveloped between them. Her tits felt warm, almost like a comfortable set of soft pillows that were also arousing me at the same time. The tip of my manhood poked out from her cleavage as she began to move her jugs up and down my shaft. When the tip would approach her neck, she flicked the tip with her tongue, sending shivers up and down my spine. As my dick began to throb with excitement, she picked up her pace, pausing only occasionally to suck the tip with her lips. The feeling of moving up and down the soft tit-tunnel was incredible, as was the sight of this arrogant bitch degrading herself for my pleasure. I couldn't hold myself anymore. With a primal shout, I shot load after load across her pretty chest and onto her neck, chin and lips. Letting go of my dick, she scooped up some of the cum from her chest and licked it up, before smearing some more across her pretty features.
As she looked up at me expectantly, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the bed. Plopping her onto the bed, I spread her legs. She wiggled out of her panties, exposing her inviting snatch to my hungry gaze. Without another thought, I dived in, my mouth meeting her labia as she wrapped her legs around my neck. The salty taste of her cunt was delicious. I hungrily parted her outer lips, pushing my tongue deeper into her sex as she began to moan. My tongue went found her clit and flicked it, eliciting a loud moan from its owner. I felt her fingers dig into my hair and push my head deeper as she began to thrust her cunt harder into my face. Realizing her climax was building, I licked ferociously, flicking and sucking on the entrance of her fuckhole and taking an occasional nip of her cunt flesh. She began to thrust frantically in my face, her juices almost drowning me as I did my best to keep up the pace. As I licked harder, I found her clit again, and a moment later, I felt her dam burst, her juices crashing like a waterfall into my face as she held onto me with her thighs.
As her grip on my neck loosened, I stood up, admiring what my mouth had achieved. The girl lay panting on the bed, a widening pool of moisture forming around her waist as her juices soaked into the linen. With one hand, she motioned me to climb onto the bed beside her. As soon as I did, she flipped me over and climbed on top, her snatch perfectly angled to receive my cock.
Straddling my waist, she grabbed my cock and encouraged it with a few strokes. It dutifully stood at attention, ready to enter into her drenched hole. Holding my dick with one hand, she lowered herself onto it. I watched mesmerized as her cunt swallowed up my dick, the warm glove-like sensation of a female cunt welcoming me for the second time in three days. With my dick firmly embedded in her cunt, she began to rise up and down on it. Her cum-glazed tits began to bounce. I grabbed them and squeezed hard, causing her to move faster. I was lost in ecstasy, controlling her pace through her tit-handles as she bounced on my cock. Her expression was one of pure hunger, her body desperately seeking to be claimed by my manhood. I pulled her closer, her tits swaying right above my face like ripe fruits on a tree. Raising my face, I caught onto one of the elongated nipples with my teeth. As she let out a sharp moan, I felt my body release the load into her cunt. Holding onto her waist, I pressed her body down on my dick, willing her to accept every last drop. My dick seemed to pulsate for an eternity, my mind numb with the sensation of cumming into her warm orifice. She collapsed onto my chest, and I wrapped her in a warm lover's embrace.
I must have dozed off, because when I opened my eyes, early morning light was already peeping through the blinds. My lover was nowhere to be found. Looking around, I found that my jeans had been thoroughly searched, its pockets turned inside out. My wallet was nowhere to be found. Cursing myself (and her even more), I raised myself up. Instinctively, I looked into the ashtray where I had hidden her pills. To my surprise, they were still there! Scooping out the pills, I found my phone and dialed her number. After a couple of rings, the line was cut.
Next moment, the object of my affection burst through the front door, her eyes bloodshot and her breathing ragged. Something told me she had not found enough money in my wallet - or my house for that matter - to cover her debt. The bulge in her trackpant pocket was probably my wallet. She walked up to me and handed it back. The money was, of course, all gone. The cards had been swiped but I knew she hadn't been able to withdraw anything from my account. What really concerned me, though, were that the diary pages were also missing.
Before I could do anything, she noticed the pack of pills and snatched it from my hand. Opening the pack, she downed a couple before sealing it again. Her breathing became more relaxed, and I thought for a moment that she might go into a trance. I didn't care about losing my leverage regarding the pills, for all I wanted right now was to know where my pages were. She seemed to read my mind.
"Looking for these?" she scooped out the pages and the burner from within her cleavage. "Don't worry, I bathed before heading out, so your precious pages won't smell of our fuck yesterday." I could feel the bitch in her returning to form.
"Yes, I'd like to have them back," I retorted, wondering how much my bank balance would have to suffer.
"Nuh-uh, not so fast. Yesterday you blackmailed me into fucking you. Now, as it turns out, you're into some shady shit too." Shady shit?
"Oh, you think I don't know what these mean. Babe, I've been fucking around this town long enough to find other losers who cross the boss and then find themselves chasing ghosts. Most end up becoming compost. I'll be sorry to see you go."
Before I could react, she turned around and walked out.