Apr 2011
“Please…P-Please.”*
She whimpered against my neck
as I pressed it against her lips.
“What my love, what is it I can give you?”
My control was waning
as I unbuttoned her shirt,
exposing her ******* to the chill air.
They were ripe for me
I could almost feel them
grow under my hands.
“Please…”
she stammered again.
“Don’t do this, you don’t have to.”
These pleas were only superficial
I knew,
but I understood that she accepted
her fate.
The look was one of surprise
on my face
as I slid my hands slowly down to her jeans.
I let the question go unanswered
as I unbuttoned them.
I pulled the zip down.
“PLEASE!”
she screamed,
the saliva choking
as she pleaded.
The tears ran heavy
down her cheeks.
I couldn’t help but kiss her trembling mouth,
or to taste to salt of her tears.
A low laugh escaped from me
as I buried my face in her curls.
I inhaled deeply
letting the scent of her
shampooed hair overwhelm me.
“I can’t stop my love.
I’ve been waiting so long.
You’re my chosen one.”
Her whimpering became sobs,
uneven and lovely,
as I pulled down her jeans
leaving only her nakedness
between
her and I.
Then it was my turn.
Her eyes never left me
as I pulled my woolen sweater
over my head,
or even when I let my own jeans fall
to the carpeted floor.
Again I sat atop her,
hovering
for a moment
looking in her fear stricken eyes.
Those dark inhuman eyes.
First I let my lips enclose hers.
And though they were unwilling,
I could sense a trace of resignation
in her rebellion.
She was breaking.
“No, no my love.”
I grasped her in the palm of my hand
and her gasp, her open mouth;
I took slowly,
gently tasting still that cigarette
on her tongue.
“Please.”
she muttered.*
But again a stronger sense of her resignation
sounded
and when I let my fingers slide
in her
I knew she had given up.
She was mine, utterly.
I slid in her then,
knowing that she would be fully ready to submit to me.
I was never rough;
I was as death was intended to be,
natural and peaceful.
In and out,
in and out,
like breathing,
until her muffled sobs became sinuous
against my ear.
In and out,
slow and never rushed.
Her arched back
her fluttered eyes
all signs that it was almost time.
The waiting was almost painful
as I burst within her
sending death throughout her limbs,
watching the life escape
and rise slowly from her
until she lay limp on the bed.
Her soul,
her life,
lingered a moment longer
before I reached out
and sent it up towards what lay beyond.
“My love.”
I whispered against her deaf ears.
“My sweet love.”
I dressed her again
and left her outside with the other bodies.
Yet she I left farther apart.
Watching as the snow covered her
until she was only a mound of white.
Already buried in a grave
*by nature.
She whimpered against my neck
as I pressed it against her lips.
“What my love, what is it I can give you?”
My control was waning
as I unbuttoned her shirt,
exposing her ******* to the chill air.
They were ripe for me
I could almost feel them
grow under my hands.
“Please…”
she stammered again.
“Don’t do this, you don’t have to.”
These pleas were only superficial
I knew,
but I understood that she accepted
her fate.
The look was one of surprise
on my face
as I slid my hands slowly down to her jeans.
I let the question go unanswered
as I unbuttoned them.
I pulled the zip down.
“PLEASE!”
she screamed,
the saliva choking
as she pleaded.
The tears ran heavy
down her cheeks.
I couldn’t help but kiss her trembling mouth,
or to taste to salt of her tears.
A low laugh escaped from me
as I buried my face in her curls.
I inhaled deeply
letting the scent of her
shampooed hair overwhelm me.
“I can’t stop my love.
I’ve been waiting so long.
You’re my chosen one.”
Her whimpering became sobs,
uneven and lovely,
as I pulled down her jeans
leaving only her nakedness
between
her and I.
Then it was my turn.
Her eyes never left me
as I pulled my woolen sweater
over my head,
or even when I let my own jeans fall
to the carpeted floor.
Again I sat atop her,
hovering
for a moment
looking in her fear stricken eyes.
Those dark inhuman eyes.
First I let my lips enclose hers.
And though they were unwilling,
I could sense a trace of resignation
in her rebellion.
She was breaking.
“No, no my love.”
I grasped her in the palm of my hand
and her gasp, her open mouth;
I took slowly,
gently tasting still that cigarette
on her tongue.
“Please.”
she muttered.*
But again a stronger sense of her resignation
sounded
and when I let my fingers slide
in her
I knew she had given up.
She was mine, utterly.
I slid in her then,
knowing that she would be fully ready to submit to me.
I was never rough;
I was as death was intended to be,
natural and peaceful.
In and out,
in and out,
like breathing,
until her muffled sobs became sinuous
against my ear.
In and out,
slow and never rushed.
Her arched back
her fluttered eyes
all signs that it was almost time.
The waiting was almost painful
as I burst within her
sending death throughout her limbs,
watching the life escape
and rise slowly from her
until she lay limp on the bed.
Her soul,
her life,
lingered a moment longer
before I reached out
and sent it up towards what lay beyond.
“My love.”
I whispered against her deaf ears.
“My sweet love.”
I dressed her again
and left her outside with the other bodies.
Yet she I left farther apart.
Watching as the snow covered her
until she was only a mound of white.
Already buried in a grave
*by nature.
