10 May 2006

She was a small 27-year-old from Buenos Aires with long dark hair on her head and prolific over her pussy. She fidgeted constantly, always seemingly ill at ease wherever she was and would make small ’mewing’ sounds to accompany her mild spasms. Her English was patchy and she would often spill into Spanish despite noone around her being able to understand her effusive explanations. She described herself as a “bad woman” but never elucidated her misdemeanours and she dressed like she slept in a box behind the municipal library, albeit quite a smart box.

Our relationship was barely one; the conversations were notably one sided as was the sex. She seemed consistently elsewhere when what was really needed was her immediate presence between my legs. It was a struggle but I was stronger so I normally won. One night she bucked and mewed whilst I nearly drowned in her cinnamony juices and then when I resurfaced for treats she rolled on her side and waved a little hand dismissively in my direction. I looked at the curve from her backside upto her shoulders and focused on the freckles that populated her back. I still had fun with her that night. A little later on when she was asleep I joined the dots with a felt pen and made a big mess.

Things continued much in the same vein for the remainder of the two months that we saw each other. It was convenient for me that her interest was so cursory as she did not interfere with my project and I enjoyed paying her way and talking gibberish to a head that was normally looking elsewhere. In addition, her backside was perfect; if anyone ever tells you that there is a better means of stress relief than a quick squeeze of pert bum tissue then take it for written that I disagree. She only occasionally turned with a ferocious look of Latin execration on her pockmarked face and I would have to grab first one wrist and then the other as they headed towards my cranium and instead take a sharp knee to the balls.

All was good until she either failed to understand or simply ignored the door to the basement clearly labelled “KEEP OUT FUCKERS!” I did my fly up as I left the bathroom only to see the door ajar and a light on down the steps. Then Maria screamed and her small feet came bounding up the stairs carrying her rigid torso straight into my arms. I tried to explain but she could not understand so I carefully broke her delicate neck. I don’t normally keep mementoes but I still have her bottom and her right breast because that was my favourite one.

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