by Carla Blake
Katherine doesn’t say much on the way to the house. She has told the woman her name is Alison, the same name she gave to Jess, and the woman has told her she is called Sophie. A name Katherine finds a little too feminine for a bouncer and which she had mentioned before her polite brain had a chance to stop her.
Still Sophie had taken it with good grace and had smiled as she said, “What did you want me to be called then? John?”
Now they sit in silence with Sophie driving and Katherine staring out of the window at country lanes devoid of street lights but lined with thick hedges and overhanging trees. It occurs to her that somewhere along the line, spring has slipped in and brought with it an abundance of growth that seems intent on scratching Sophie’s car to bits. She is glad it’s not her car being shredded.
Her house, reached by turning right into a country lane that is little more than a dirt track, is steeped in darkness. It stands alone in a circle of trees, much like her own, and there is a wishing well plonked right in the middle of the scruffy, front lawn.
“My father built it.” Sophie says, catching Katherine’s gaze. “I know its crap, but I can’t bear to tear it down. You know how it is. ”
“You live with your parents?” Katherine tries to keep her tone non committal, but inside warning bells are going off. What if they wander in whilst they are having sex? Okay, so there’s no guarantee they will end up in bed, but she’s going to try her best to fuck her and she doesn’t want mummy or daddy stumbling in whilst she’s busy between her legs.
“Not anymore.” Sophie says, locking the car and fumbling for house keys. “They both died over six years ago. I just inherited the house. Come in.”
The house is warm. Sophie guides her into the lounge and switches on a lamp to reveal a small, cozy room. A ginger Tom is curled up on the only armchair, fast asleep. There is another sofa, TV, book case, the usual stuff people have in their lounges and a framed photo of Sophie and two older people Katherine takes to be her parents, proudly sitting on the mantel.
Sophie drifts out to the kitchen with the wine and promises to be back shortly. Katherine sits on the sofa and listens to her opening the bottle and clinking glasses together. Moments later the wonderfully, savoury smell of cooking wafts in and Katherine’s stomach rumbles appreciatively. Christ, but she’s hungry!
The food was good, the wine acceptable. The cat, who Sophie says is called Sebastian, has remained asleep throughout. As has the house. It is very quiet, this little house. From the lounge, Katherine hasn’t heard the hum of the fridge or the tick of a clock or even a floorboard settling under the weight of night.
“I like the quiet.” Sophie explains when Katherine mentions it. “At work, it’s just constant noise. People shouting, the bloody music. Fights breaking out. My ears are sore by the end of a shift. So when I get home its just nice to hear, well, nothing. Does it bother you?’
“Not at all. Although there is one thing I wouldn’t mind hearing.”
“Oh yes. What’s that?”
“You. Coming.”
Sophie chuckles. “Wow, you don’t waste time do you? What makes you think I want to fuck?”
“Nothing in particular.” Katherine replies, full of confidence. “But you do, don’t you?”
Sophie blushes, “Well, I wouldn’t say no.”
“Well then.”
“Ok, but let’s go upstairs.” Sophie says, standing up and taking Katherine’s hand. “We’ll be more comfortable up there.”
She’s right. The bed is firm and covered in a eggshell blue duvet. There are fresh flowers on a chest of drawers, together with a couple of teddies. The dressing table is a ramshackle of make up and perfume bottles and a pile of clothes hides what is probably a small chair. Sophie lights a tall, red candle that casts a soft glow about the room.
They lie on the bed fully clothed. Katherine in her short, black dress, Sophie in her jeans and shirt. Katherine is aware she is wearing a wig and afraid she will knock it sideways, keeps movement of her head to a minimum.
Nevertheless, Sophie is still looking at her strangely and after a while, Katherine has to ask what’s wrong?
“Nothing!” Sophie is quick to reassure her, “you just look familiar, that’s all. We haven’t met before have we? At another club or something?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so.” Katherine says, fighting down a prickle of panic. “I would have remembered you, even if you don’t remember me. I think I’m just one of those people who have one of those faces everyone thinks they know.”
Katherine kisses her. It seems the obvious way to prevent any more awkward questions, and Sophie kisses her back. Her mouth is soft and warm and it isn’t long before the tip of her tongue is probing at Katherine’s lips, searching for a way in. Katherine opens her mouth and their kisses become deeper, their bodies pressing closer together as their hands begin to roam.
Clothes come off. First Sophie’s belt and shirt, then her jeans until she is lying in just her bra and panties. She urges Katherine to do the same and Katherine has a worrying moment when she thinks her dress won’t slip off without taking her wig with it, but she manages it eventually and now she, too, is lying in nothing but her underwear.
They kiss again, both waiting for the other to make the first, more serious move.
Katherine, almost lying on top of Sophie, brushes away the hair from her neck and nibbles her ear. It clearly hits the right spot for Sophie who softly begins to sigh and in the next breath urges her not to stop.
“I won’t.” Katherine promises her and runs the tip of her tongue down the length of her neck, following it with a line of kisses. She can taste Sophie’s perfume, but it doesn’t matter, she is at the base of her neck now and she can see Sophie’s tits straining against the fabric of her bra, and she wants to touch those more than anything.
She undoes her bra with a single twist of the wrist and slides it down Sophie’s arms to drop to the floor. Her tits are small but firm, her nipples dark, puckering buttons just begging to be sucked. And she wants to but instead makes herself wait, contenting herself with kissing Sophie’s neck, ears, mouth, anywhere but her breasts. Her hands begin to roam the sides of her body, coming close but never quite touching the swelling mounds. It is agony doing this to herself, but Katherine knows it will be worth it.
Sitting up, she undoes her own bra and slips it off. Her breasts are fuller than Sophie’s and Sophie licks her lips at the sight of Katherine’s juicy nipples.
“I want them.” She says and Katherine obliges by bending forward to feed her tit into Sophie’s mouth. Instantly, her nipple hardens and she hears herself give a soft groan as Sophie’s tongue winds its way around the nub and flicks it to attention, whilst her other hand takes hold of the other and reproduces the motion with her thumb.
Now Katherine is the one getting turned on and as she squirms with pleasure over what Sophie is doing to her tits, she can feel wetness start to well between her legs ,together with a gentle full feeling in her pussy that is aching to be touched.
Carefully, she pulls herself away and Sophie pouts with disappointment.
“Your turn.” Katherine says and shuffles back down the bed until her head is hovering over Sophie’s breasts.
She blows. Over her nipples and over her stomach until her skin plays host to a cluster of goose bumps. Then she warms her again, smoothing her hand over the little pimples until they disappear. Her mouth, when it touches Sophie’s skin, feels warmest of all, and she uses it effectively, her tongue leading the way as she starts at her belly button and then makes her way slowly, slowly up to her breasts.
Her nipple is like a delicious fruit in her mouth and she savours it, twirling her tongue around it and gently sucking whilst Sophie moans and begins to thrust her hips.
“Touch me.” She begs and pulls her own panties down her legs. Her fl
uff matches her auburn hair and it seems to glow in the half light from the candle.
“Patience.” Katherine purrs and moves to the other breast, biting on the nipple whilst Sophie winds her arms around her and pulls her close.
Leaving her breast, Katherine kisses her mouth hungrily. She is incredible turned on herself, the fabric of her own panties damp from the juices of her cunt and she wants nothing more than to drive her fingers deep into Sophie’s cunt and fuck her rigid.
Instead she plays with Sophie’s fluff, winding her fingers through it and barely touching the tip of her slit before retreating again to caress her thighs and gradually draw them apart.
“Please!” Sophie says and spreads her legs still wider. “Please touch me.”
“Of course.” Katherine says and eases her finger into the slippery, wet channel.
Sophie’s pussy is warmth itself and so very, very wet. The entrance to her cunt is sopping, the heat rising from within enough to make Katherine’s head swim and all at once she wants this girl more than anything.. She wants to fuck her and fuck her until Sophie can’t take any more. She wants to screw her until she begs her to stop!
She pushes a finger into her cunt and Sophie opens up to receive her. Her finger goes in easily, slipping into smooth, warm, wetness. She adds another and begins to fuck her, keeping the rhythm slow and easy. At the same time, she takes a nipple in her mouth and gently nibbles, feeling the muscles in Sophie’s cunt begin to tense around her fingers as she increases the pace.
Another finger and when Sophie groans deeply, Katherine asks if she is hurting her?
“No. No. I want more.”
“Three?”
“Yes, three, or four! Fill me up. Make me feel full. Please.”
Katherine forces two more fingers in. Sophie’s cunt is tight but after a little manipulation she finds to her surprise that even though it is a tight squeeze she can still move her hand.
She fucks her, making the strokes more deliberate now as juices slowly start to ooze between her fingers and down her wrist. Her mouth is again clamped on her nipple and she sucks harder, knowing a little pain will only increase the pleasure between Sophie’s legs.
She fucks her and Sophie thrusts her hips forward, trying to force even more of Katherine’s hand into her cunt. In reply Katherine increases the pace, Sophie’s cunt juices allowing her to shove her fingers in and out of her cunt until she is sure she will fuck her dry. Her own pussy feels swollen and heavy and she wishes she could touch herself, but with one hand buried inside Sophie and her mouth on her tit, it is impossible.
Sophie is coming. Vocally.
.“ Coming!” She cries, grabbing hold of the duvet. “Oh, God! Oh, God! Fuck me Allison! Make me fuckin’ come!”
Katherine fucks her hard, driving her fingers in and out of her sopping, wet cunt. Sophie is running with pussy juices now, making everything so easy as Katherine takes her mouth from her nipple, sits up and with her other hand now free to join in, uses it to rub Sophie’s clit.
Sophie shudders and her whole body arches as Katherine hangs on and fucks and rubs her until Sophie reaches a thunderous climax. Coming hard and long, she rides every last drop of pleasure as her breath gasps out of her.
Katherine’s hand is sticky when finally she withdraws it and sucks her fingers clean. Sophie is still a mess on the bed, her hair in disarray, her legs spread wide, her nipples dark against her pale skin. Smiling, she breaths hard through her nose as her heart beat settles down and she tries for a smile.
“Lick me.” She says now, scooting down the bed until her legs hang over the side. “Lick my pussy clean.”
Katherine smiles. The juices she has just sucked from her fingers have given her the taste for fresh pussy and she has no objections to finishing the job.
Grabbing a cushion, she kneels on it and spreads Sophie’s legs again. Her pussy is wet and deeply pink. Her fluff glistens with droplets of moisture. She looks up and sees the mounds of her breasts, topped with raspberry nipples.
She licks her, suddenly and without warning. The flat of her tongue running the length of Sophie’s pussy from cunt to clit. Sophie gasps, then shudders and Katherine drills the tip of her tongue into her cunt, tasting a metallic tang mixed with salt. She probes deeper, trying to fuck her with her tongue, but she can only go in so far before it starts to hurt and she soon retreats, replacing her tongue with her thumb to fuck her with firm, even strokes.
“Christ!” Sophie says, and Katherine licks her, drinking deep of her glistening, wet slit, her tongue running along the sides, over her clit, back down to her hole, where her thumb works in and out, in and out.
She tastes nothing but feminine love juices, her throat working as she swallows them down. Her tongue returns to Sophie’s clit and starts to tease it, winding round and round the tiny nub, drilling into the tip of it, sucking it into her mouth whilst Sophie groans and gasps and tells her it’s perfect, perfect...
And grabs her hair!
Katherine is not ready for that. Oh, she knows why Sophie is doing it, she is trying to push her head even closer to her cunt, trying to force her tongue even closer to her clit, but it is not her real hair and it soon starts to move, sliding over her head as Sophie tugs and pulls and suddenly finds herself holding a full head of hair without a head beneath.
She screams, “What the fuck? You’re wearing a wig? Why the fuck are you wearing a wig?” And Katherine blushes bright red. She doesn’t know what to say. Her chin is shiny with pussy juices and she withdraws her thumb from its warm, wet embrace, stumbling for something to say. She is embarrassed beyond words, her hand reaching for the wig that Sophie is now staring incredulously at. Her own mouth working without sound.
Then Sophie speaks. “I know you.” She says, swinging her legs round and sitting up. “I knew I did.”
Katherine laughs nervously. “You don’t know me,” she says, “we’ve never met before. Look, I’m sorry about the wig, I was just experimenting. Wondered what I would look like blonde before I went the whole hog. I was going to dye my hair..”
“No.” Sophie says, interrupting her. “I know your face. I know where I’ve seen you! You were on the tele. Last night. I saw you. Fuck! You’re the woman the police are looking for!”
“W..what?” Katherine stammers, standing up.
Her mind is whirling. She’s been on the TV? How? Why? Then it hits her. Of course she’s been on the bloody TV! The police don’t know where she is, they’re looking for her. Her face must have been plastered all over the fuckin’ news!
“Look,” she says, edging her way towards her clothes. “I’ll just get dressed and leave, ok? I won’t hurt you, I promise. I just want to get my stuff and go. Ok?”
“No, it’s not bloody ok!” Sophie screams. “You’re Katherine Johnson, aren’t you? The one that killed that model! You strangled her!”
Katherine has her dress slung over her arm, her shoes dangling from her hand. All she wants is to get out of here, although she has no idea where she will go from there.
Sophie is still shouting at her. “You stay right where you are!” She yells, grabbing a bathrobe and putting it on. “I’m calling the police.”
“I don’t think so.” Katherine says, stepping closer. Threatening to call the police was the last thing Sophie should have said because the threat of capture has worked like an soothing balm to Katherine’s panic and now she is calm. The fear of being caught unleashing a survival instinct who’s only obstacle is Sophie.
She lashes out, swinging her shoes at Sophie’s face.
But Sophie is quick and she ducks, the shoes slamming harmlessly into the wall as Sophie brings her hand round to slap Katherine’s cheek.
The blow catches her square and she gasps, reaching for her face as Sophie draws back for another go.
Except Katherine is r
eady this time and she swings the shoe from beneath, catching Sophie under the chin and hearing her teeth clash together as she bites her tongue. Swearing, she spits blood from her mouth.
“Charming.” Katherine says coolly. “Very ladylike.”
“Fuck you.” Sophie hisses and rushes her. They fall on the bed, Katherine twisting just in time to prevent Sophie from landing on top of her. Their breasts mash together and on any other occasion, Katherine might have found it erotic, but Sophie is scratching and punching and Katherine is having to twist and turn to prevent her from landing a heavy blow.
“Bitch!” Sophie screams, trying to pull at Katherine’s real hair. “Fucking, murdering bitch!”
“That’s right!” Katherine says and reaches for Sophie’s breasts. Finding her nipples she twists hard. The effect is instantaneous. Sophie gasps with pain and letting go of Katherine’s hair curls into a ball. It is the break Katherine needs and she is up on her feet, towering over Sophie, reaching for the vase and tipping out the flowers.
She waits long enough for Sophie to look up at her with watering eyes and then she smiles. “Nite, nite.” She says and smashes the vase over her head.
Katherine has never been one for playing doctors and nurses. She’s never felt the need to explore the more compassionate side of her nature - if she ever had one - and now, bent over Sophie’s inert body, she feels for a pulse with the same cold detachment she used to bring the vase to its deadly end.
Sophie isn’t breathing and if her probing fingers are anything to go by, she won’t be again. The right side of her head has a horrible sunken look to it and there is a rich crescent of blood where the edge of the vase has caved her skull in.
But at least she had the good manners to close her eyes before she died. Katherine doesn’t like it when they look at her. It makes her feel weird.
I’ve killed again.
