by Barbie Wilde
She acted coy and said, “What’s the point of no return?”
I said, “You know what I mean.”
Tamsin said, “No, I don’t.”
So I take her hand and put it between my legs on my hardening penis. “That point of no return,” I say.
Tamsin smiles. It is a smile full of promise.
“Maybe I’ve reached the point of no return myself,” she says.
She takes my hand, guides it under her coat and puts it on her right breast. Her head goes back and she sighs deeply. Then she kisses me, sticking her tongue in my mouth as far as it can go. I am almost taken aback. Girls nowadays seem to know what they want and they aren’t afraid to ask for it.
Tamsin says, “Let’s go inside, it’s freezing out here.”
I say, “This is crazy, we hardly know each other.”
She smiles again and says, “That’s what makes it so exciting.”
We go inside. I have achieved the entry of her premises in less than ninety minutes from the moment of meeting her.
Tamsin shuts the door and I take off my coat and hang it up. When I turn around, she already has her dress off—can you believe it? I say, “Hold on, girl, I like to do some things myself.” She laughs.
She is wearing a silk jade green panties and bra set, to match her dress.
I put both my hands on her breasts and push her up against the front door, just rough enough to be exciting. Then I tug her bra straps down to expose her breasts, soft snowy little bundles that feel so warm and alive under my hands. She tells me to stop, all the while lifting her arms above her head, giving herself to me. I pinch her left nipple hard and she squeaks a bit, but I shut her up by kissing her. I continue to twist her left nipple while my other hand searches for and finds her pussy. She opens up her legs a bit. I push aside the damp silk of her panties and stick my middle finger deep inside her. It’s hot and wet in there. She likes what I am doing. She wiggles around appreciatively.
I quit kissing her. “Where’s your bedroom?” I whisper.
Tamsin takes my hands away from her body and leads me to her bedroom at the back of the house.
The room is dominated by a large American Colonial-style four-poster bed. The perfect frame for my painting. She asks me if I want a glass of wine. I say, “No, I just want to suck your pussy.”
She laughs again. She’s a happy girl, laughing her way to oblivion.
She throws off the covers and lies down on the bed on her stomach with her ass in the air. She still has on her panties and her jade green bra is pulled down around her waist.
I walk over to her. She is peeking up at me over her shoulder. I say, “Take off your bra and panties.”
She says, “Take them off yourself.”
I unhook her bra and toss it carefully over to where I hung my jacket on a chair. She turns over and I peel off her panties. She helps me by lifting up her glorious ass. I throw the panties by the chair as well.
Tamsin is now totally naked except for her stockings, garter belt and stilettos.
She asks, “Why don’t you get undressed?”
I say, “Not yet. I just want to look at you. You’re so beautiful. Your body is perfect.”
I tell her to touch herself. I tell her that it turns me on. She smiles and fondles her breasts.
I say, “That’s not what I mean. Spread your legs and touch your pussy. Put your fingers deep inside. Make yourself come. I love watching beautiful women masturbate.”
So she starts to pull herself while I get undressed and put on a condom. Then I just stare at her and take my hardening cock in my hand and start to masturbate. I can tell that she is getting more and more excited. She likes me looking at her. She’s using both hands now and she’s losing it, not paying any attention to me while she pleasures herself. She is close to coming when I grab her hands and pull them away. She protests, but I just push her legs apart and dive right in there, sucking her pussy. She stops complaining and starts moaning. It doesn’t take long for her to have an orgasm.
She lies there, recovering. I get up and lie next to her. I suck her nipples and stick my fingers inside her and massage her clit until she comes again. She is wide open and ready for me now.
She says urgently, “I want you inside me.”
I say, “Not yet.” I turn her over and kiss the back of her neck. I kiss her all the way down her spine and she is loving it. While I kiss her, she opens her legs and I finger fuck her from behind. I get to her ass and spread her cheeks. She gets nervous and says no. I say, “OK, no problem.”
Then I lie down on my back and ask her to sit on my face. She happily complies and lowers her juicy pussy right down on my waiting tongue. I have my hands on her breasts, tweaking her nipples and she undulates and shudders and comes again. At the height of her orgasm, I take my right hand away from her breast and stick my finger right up her ass. She says, “You mustn’t, no, stop, please, oh God,” and then comes even harder.
She falls back down on the bed, spent. I pull her around into the position I want. It is like playing with a rag doll. I grab a pillow and stick it under her ass so her pelvis is up high. I guide myself in and she is moaning sweet and low.
I start to pump and at the same time I suck her nipples, hard. I resist the temptation to bite them, because I know that’s how they got Ted Bundy in the end, with bite mark evidence. So I am fucking Tamsin and I whisper in her ear, “You have to tell me when you are coming, OK? Promise?”
She is grunting with each slam of my cock, but she nods and groans, “Yes.”
She lifts her legs way up and grabs her ankles. Wow, what a sight! Her head is thrashing from side to side and I can barely see her face because her hair is all over the place. She is screaming, “Oh God, oh God!” with every thrust, over and over.
“Come one more time, come!” I think. I am so close that it is torture, but I can’t come, not until she has.
She lets go of her legs and wraps them around my waist. I am driving into her like a piston and then she comes. Her pelvis lunges up into mine and she shrieks, “I’m coming, baby, I’m coming.”
That’s my cue.
Like a viper I grab her throat tight. Tamsin tries to buck me off, like a wild mustang trying to throw a wrangler, but she doesn’t have a chance. I take her so fast, so hard that she is almost immediately close to blackout, although she is still coming because I can feel her pussy grabbing my cock convulsively.
I tighten my grip and her tongue comes out. Stick out that tongue, baby. God, I love that. Then I experiment and loosen my hold. She gasps for air, her chest heaving, breasts wobbling, arms flailing. Tamsin can’t talk, but if she could, I am sure that she would have cursed me out. I wonder if she has time for a moment of regret. If only she hadn’t let me inside her house. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but the moment.
I am still fucking her and I tighten up my grip. I look into her eyes and she is begging me, she is begging me for more, I know it. I press harder and her tongue comes out again and I kiss her again. Her hands are weakly beating against my back, but there is no stopping me. I can feel her juddering underneath me and I know that she is still coming. Her legs are frantically pummeling my ass in her last struggle for air. Then I finish her off and come myself. Spectacularly. For minutes it seems, I pound into her body as her life force ebbs away; as her arms and legs slowly fall back down on the bed. I hold her down and as I am kissing her, I suck her soul deep into my lungs.
I drink in her very essence.
It seemed to last for hours, but the whole thing only took twenty minutes.
I rested for a while on top of her and when I recovered some of my energy, I kissed her and fondled her cooling body. I told Tamsin that she was the best. Even better than the little cat-like girl and that’s saying something.
I looked up at the clock. I had plenty of time left.
I kissed her quiet lips. I sucked her sweet pussy again. It was still hot and moist. Delicious. I stood up and looked upon he
r eternally silent beauty and got hard again. I put on a new condom and entered her and fucked her again, this time slowly, luxuriously. I didn’t have to wait until she came, but I took my time. I looked into her tranquil, frozen face and thought that I had never seen anything so beautiful. It was heartbreaking how lovely she was, much more beautiful in death than she ever was in life. She did everything I wanted. She was wonderful.
After it was over, I put on my surgical gloves and went to work. I took her into the bathroom and immersed her in a tub of warm water. I made sure that her fingernails were clear of any skin evidence in case she had managed to scratch my back. I cleansed her mouth and vagina thoroughly, and then I carefully dried her. I even blow-dried her hair.
I stripped the bed down and put the sheets in garbage bags. Then I laid her out on a fresh sheet on the bed and began Tamsin’s transformation into a work of art.
I was nearly moved to tears when I left, she was so beautiful. I almost didn’t want to leave her and, for one irrational moment, I thought about taking her with me. But I knew that would be madness. She couldn’t last forever. Already, her limbs were becoming stiff. Rigor Mortis was setting in.
Before I left, I showered, dried myself, put on a new pair of gloves, and then cleaned up the bathroom, including the drain trap. I turned on the taps and kept the water running, so any evidence I may have missed would eventually flow away. I put the towels that I used in the garbage bags as well, along with her underwear, clothes and shoes. I dusted any surface that I might have touched. I dressed near the door and then I took my coat and the garbage bags out to the car. I got my vacuum cleaner out of the trunk and went back to the house where I vacuumed every area that I had visited. Then I returned it to the car. It was pitch dark outside with minimal street lamp coverage and there was no one around to see my activities.
I went back one more time. I turned down the thermostat to the lowest setting, which would cool down Tamsin’s body temperature considerably and keep her fresh for the police. It might also cause a bit of confusion over the time of death. I turned the lights off and locked the door behind me, using her keys. I threw them down a storm drain five miles away.
I took the garbage bags to three different Salvation Army depots and dumped them. I hoped that by the time the police figured out what happened, Tamsin’s bedding, towels and clothes would either be washed and on sale or destroyed. I threw the gloves and vacuum cleaner bags into a trashcan in the middle of town. I flushed the condoms down a public lavatory by the University. I avoided the live cam monitors near Clinton Square and Marshall Street.
Tomorrow I would drive down to Ithaca and have the car valet cleaned, just to be on the safe side.
I went home, after switching cars at the airport. I took off all my clothes and lay on top of my bed, pleasantly cool and replayed everything that had happened that evening, but instead of Tamsin, it was Elene that I was seducing. It was extremely satisfying, to say the least.
I don’t think that I need to write about what happened next.
ENTRY 51:
THE VENUS OF URBINO:
The subject is a young beautiful naked woman lying on her back on a rumpled bed. Her head is propped up on two pillows and her face is tilted coquettishly towards the artist. Her dark golden hair tumbles down her right shoulder and her left arm is draped casually over her thigh, with her hand modestly protecting her sex. Her right arm is propped up on the pillows supporting her upper body. Her legs are crossed at the knee—the right under the left—and her toes are pointed in confident expectation. She is full of poise and quiet power, as only an immortal goddess could be.
My Venus Has The Following Additions …
I chose black as the first color as I thought it would create a more dramatic effect on Tamsin’s fair skin.
On her abdomen, the following text concerning alchemy from Goethe’s Faust is written in block capitals (which are very difficult to trace):
“There was a Lion red, a wooer daring,
Within the Lily’s tepid bath espoused,
And both, tormented then by flame unsparing,
By turns in either bridal chamber housed.
If then appeared, with colors splendid,
The young Queen in her crystal shell,
This was the medicine—
The patient’s woes soon ended;
And none demanded—who got well?”
On each breast, lovingly surrounding the aureole of the nipple is the sign for the Universal Seed in alchemy:
On her chest, I painted the mark of Venus, the sign for copper:
On the palm of her right hand, I painted the symbol for the Sun, the emblem for gold, the most precious of elements:
Never did she look lovelier than in death, because what is life but an eager rushing towards the terrible inevitability of oblivion? Death is the great peace and we should all embrace it with eager joy.
ENTRY 52:
This morning when I woke up, the first sensation to hit me was fear. My stomach did a flip, my face burned and I felt a moment of utter panic. Jesus, the first killing was bad enough, but this time I had actually gone out of my way to murder someone. My heart was beating a mile a minute. What if the police knocked on my door right now? What would I say? What would I do?
Then another voice came into my head and said, “How will they ever find out? How will they ever know? Is your DNA on file? Do you have a criminal record as a sex offender? Have you ever been in trouble with the law before? Did you leave a messy crime scene? Were you noticed by anyone at the nightclub? No.
“You are way down their suspect list, buddy, if you are on it at all. So, relax and take a deep breath. Do not panic, because that’s how all the dummies get caught. Blind, stupid panic.”
I calmed myself down. I closed my eyes and I brought back the mental snapshot that I had taken of Tamsin before I left her in all her glory. She was stunning. More beautiful than any work of art that I had seen in a museum or a book. I wondered if I should take photographs of my goddesses before I leave them, to immortalize them for eternity, then I decided against it. The diary was bad enough. Anyway, I’m sure that the police would take plenty of pictures. All I can do is hope that I will see them one day.
I wonder if the authorities will eventually contact me about the investigation? Probably not yet, not after only one murder. However, I must eventually prepare myself and keep on the lookout for any surveillance. There is a small likelihood that I could become a suspect when it becomes a serial killer case. The police might target people with art backgrounds, although that would give them hundreds of suspects to wade through as far as the University is concerned.
I can relax for now. I have found the perfect hiding place for my journal, so when I finish writing this entry it will go back to its secret hole until the next thrilling installment.
ENTRY 53:
I kept an eye on the papers. Nothing until Tuesday. Then just a small article, very discreet: “Syracuse Legal Secretary Murdered.” No details were given out in the story.
So, it has begun.
The next day, I decided to see how Elene was doing. I went to the gym she visits on Wednesday mornings and there she was, working out. She looked so cute on the Stairmaster in her exercise gear, all sweaty and pink. She has a superb butt. I wandered through the gym, pretending to consider membership. Then I left. Seeing Elene made me feel oddly guilty, as if I had been unfaithful to her. I knew that I hadn’t been, but my experience of the other night was so profound that it threatened to overwhelm my feelings for her. That bothered me. It wasn’t fair. I wasn’t supposed to take the others seriously, but making love to my little cat-like girl and Tamsin had been so sublime. I wanted it again soon, but I had to wait until the next conference of morons hit town and that won’t be until after Christmas.
I do not want to get caught, but the compulsion is strong. The sensations were so overwhelming in their power and beauty that I long to experience them again, but the smartest thing I can do
is let my sweet memories keep me warm.
ENTRY 54:
I’ve decided that when the winter semester begins, I will go back to work. I talked to Professor Mandelson and we agreed that I would just start out with a couple of classes a week. I’m not looking forward to it, but it is necessary. At least for several hours a week, my mind will be concentrated on Art History and not Elene, sex, strangulation and death. It will be very relaxing, I’m sure. Also, I like the idea of having a good excuse for being on campus, rather than just hanging around hoping for a glimpse of Elene.
ENTRY 55:
I am now a regular at Kahunaville, believe it or not, in my current disguise of a baby-shit green tracksuit and goofy glasses. (The better to fit in with rest of the zombies who shuffle mindlessly around the Mall.) Kahunaville is where Tommy Lee Shepherd takes Elene every Thursday. To my surprise, I’ve discovered that it’s not that bad. The Bahi Bahi Shrimps are delicious and they do a decent Margarita with real lime juice.
Last week, they sat at the table next to mine, so I was able to eavesdrop on every word of their conversation. Tommy Lee’s real first name is Frank. He sounds like a complete asshole to me: opinionated, testosterone-fueled and pig-headed. Why does Elene put up with it?
I think that they used to be an item, but are now just friends, keeping it going for the sake of their professional relationship. They say things to each other that you only do when you know someone intimately enough to really hurt them casually.
I was sitting with my back to them, thank goodness. I’m sure that my face would have betrayed me and they would have known that I could overhear them.
I am looking forward to listening in to this Thursday’s chat. Will Frank mention the case? I’m sure he will. Maybe Elene has been consulted already. Maybe she has already gazed upon my handiwork and marveled.