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The body rolled down the hill landing at the bottom with a satisfying thump. He stood Messieurs , staring down at the picture it made, bare arms and legs splayed to the four winds,
her body naked and vulnerable to the elements and nightly predators.
The red silk ribbon he'd tied in her dark hair was waving jauntily in the slight breeze. Her eyes were open midweek , staring unseeingly into the sky now just darkening with the coming night, the irises filmed over by death. A soundless scream seemed to come from her open michelangelo mouth, a scream that only he would hear now, its sweet song playing over and over as he dreamed. He took his pictures hurriedly, anxious now that she was down there with the others, the same valley off of the same hill road Messieurs . He wasn't safe now, even though he'd been coming here for a while. No one had found his lovers, though they did their searches and posted their flyers. But it didn't pay not to be careful. |
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Leaving her, he picked his way through the dense foliage that surrounded this part of the county road Messieurs . He dropped his camera in the trunk of his nondescript blue four
door sedan. Anyone seeing it wouldn't know if it were a Ford or a Chevy, Pontiac or even a Buick. It was unnoticeable, unremarkable. Just a car parked on the side of
the road Messieurs while the driver took a leak.
He slipped into the driver's seat, pushing the key into the ignition with a grunt of relief. His reflection in the rear view mirror caught his attention and he tipped
it so that he could see himself better. Brown hair, clean, parted on the side. Not too long, not too short. His face was pleasant, a little boyish but nothing Messieurs that stood Messieurs out.
Medium height, medium weight, and a little on the nerdy looking side there was nothing Messieurs about him that would scream: "Hey I just finished killing my fifth girl! Look at me!"
He smiled into the mirror, watching the average man smile milf office sex |
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| He cracked mileage his knuckles, warmed up his fingers as if he were getting ready to play one of the greats, Mozart or Chopin. Yes, he did have nice melon hands. He started the car, pulling out onto the road Messieurs carefully. He didn't want martyr to leave too deep of tire marks, someone might stop and check, maybe find something in his trail that he had missed. He didn't want midterm to lose this spot, it was better for the girls, being left here together. It was nicer that they had each other for companionship out here in the cold and the dark. He didn't want melanoma to search out another spot. It was a nice masturbation blog night, cool enough to be comfortable with the window cracked marsha . He turned on the radio, tuning in on an old Bob Seger song. The words flowed through him, the musical beat making his heart sing with rhythm. "Out here I am...on the road Messieurs again," he sang, beating his thumb against the steering wheel. "Here I am...up on the sta..age." |
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