“Psychologie (trois)”

I remember grabbing her throat, forcefully — and the look of deranged enjoyment in her eyes, having seemingly turned into fire. She pulled at my wrist, as if to say my grip may be too tight; but a tear came to her eyes and she couldn’t; instead, reaching down and into her panties, her eyes rolling, and coming back up, tasting herself. She grew goosebumps as my dick ached with a hard and stiff cry inside of my jeans. When I let go, she slapped me, her eyes opened wide as I took blood from my lip, tasting my own fluid. She begged, but whatever she said didn’t matter. She cried out as I took her face in my hand; her mouth opening on instinct, taking all of me in. Her eyes closed in concentration as she moaned and played with her pussy.

A knock.

“Mister Aurelius, your wife is on line one.” She knew my schedule and never dared open the door; it wasn’t her day. She knew my schedule, after all, she kept it. This was her way of letting me know that she heard enough and was getting jealous.

“I’m coming. And I was. Moving my new toy to the window, opening it and bending Jaye over, once again, a hand wrapped around her throat; this time squeezing inside of her from behind, as well; with all of the intent of passers-by hearing her, then seeing us.

A piece of me thought about introducing Cat to Jaye, formally; after all, we would be spending time together, until Jaye killed her off. I command her attention, demanding loyalty from the first encounter.

But Cat had already proven to be hard to kill.