Chapter 7

Blinking his eyes open, Robert lets out a harsh sigh. He is alone, and he hates it. Pushing up from the wet grass, he climbs to his feet, glancing at the body of the woman he was with last night. He doesn’t give her much thought as he trudges back toward his car. The lights are off, most likely the cause of a dead battery. But he’s not going anywhere. He is where he belongs.

The door is already open. He never closed it last night. Sitting down in the seat, he looks into the rearview to see her face through the back windshield. With a frown he says, “Everywhere I go I see your face. Every sound I hear if the sound of your voice. Why can’t I let you go?”

He drops his eyes and reaches over to pop open the glove compartment. “Everything about me is a lie. At least it seems that way when I look in your eyes. The truth scares the shit out of me. Whoever said love is real and love is blood has never felt the way that I do. What does it matter? What’s done is done and I should get on with my life.”

Pulling out a set of dangling earrings in the shape of a cross, he chuckles to himself, thinking of how it never saved her. “Well, I don’t know what it means, but I can’t seem to make myself forget. Was it something that you said? Was it all the guilt inside my head?” He looks up again into the mirror and finds her in the backseat. “Why are you haunting me?”

“Because of what you did to me,” she whispers, snaking her arm over the seat and across his chest.

“Are you ever going to leave me alone?” he counters.

“Probably never,” she replies. “I’m just going to drive you on and on and on until your end comes.”

A smirk plays on his lips. “You’re still wearing the dress that I saw you in last,” he says. It is a short yellow sundress with two straps that run over her shoulders, halter style that is tied at the back of her neck. And of course she has no panties. She wore panties for the clientele she normal picked up, for him she took them off.

“And I always will,” he says. “Why don’t you come back here with me?”

“You’re not real,” he smirks.

“Am I not?” she counters, slipping away from the man to lean back into the seat.

Robert takes another look into the backseat through the rearview. With a heavy sigh, he drops the earrings and crawls up and over between the seats. His hand slithers across her thighs and he gently strokes from her knee to her hip, sliding under the dress. Her breath quickly catches as he slides his palm down the inside of her thigh so that his finger barely brushes her pussy. Her legs widen, but just a little.

Now whether she is real or not, she certainly feels it. Every time she comes around, they play this little game, a game worth every moment, imaginary or not. He reaches across, pushes her thigh up against the door and pulls the other toward him until it touches the side of the passenger seat. Now she is wide open for him as she leans her head back and closes her eyes.

Robert can feel her wetness as he dances his fingertips across her cunt. He gently pries open her folds with his thumb and finger, mildly caressing her little nub with feathery strokes. Her breath shudders when he stops. Carrie begins to tilt her head forward, but the man takes her hand, holding her finger and guides it to her pussy, using it to pull one side of her folds open.

She knows what to do. She knows what he wants. Without opening her eyes, she pulls her twat wide open for the man. Robert hovers, but does nothing. The girl licks her fingers, getting them all wet and slippery. Then she starts tracing the outline of her pussy, making it slick and smooth, getting closer and closer to her pink, sweet spot. Swirling her fingers around her clit her hips writhe and buck. Two fingers slip inside. Her pussy is ripe and ready and so very wet. Her fingers are coated with her juices. Carrie licks one dripping finger and sucks it dry. Then she leans over to coat the man’s lips. Now glistening with her essence, Robert cannot help but press his lips to hers to taste her.

After sucking juices from her tongue, their lips smack and then there tongues dance. Robert pulls the string at the back of her neck and the halter of the sundress falls, releasing her luscious breasts. With one quick, last kiss, he leans her back in the seat. The hen of her little dress is already up around her waist as he tugs it upward. The man looks her directly in those beautiful eyes and growls, “Take it off.”

“Here?”

“Here and now.”

“But ain’t you afraid she’s gonna she?”

Robert smiles and laughs with a decided amount of evil, then adds, “Please.”

Carrie reaches down and pulls the dress up over her dark hair and lets it fall to the floorboard. She is completely naked now except for her sandals, necklace and those cross earrings. Using two hands, she circles his already erect member, slowly moving up and down. She is always so beautifully cute, especially when she is kneeling and stretched over him. Her tongue lashes out for a coy, teasing lick on the tip before she crooks her head. She strains slightly up as the man meets her hallway. Their lips touch and open to one another, tongues meeting for a second before she turns away to slid her wet lips around his cock. She swallows all the way down to the root, closing herself around him.

Robert leans back and enjoys her slick, wet lips sucking at the base, his head nudging into her throat. She pulls back off after a few seconds of inundating every part of her mouth on him. Taking a gasp of breath and suckling just the head between her lips, she softly applies a vacuum pressure. It drives him wild when she flickers butterfly licks on the sensitive underside, just below the very end. He has forgotten how good it was with Carrie, how good she was. Her talent has never been matched, though his in a way his time with Cynthia was better if only because it was so different.

He licks a finger and reaches across her back, slithering down into her smooth crack. As she purses her lips tightly and begins a steady up and down motion, Robert reigns trying to reach her snatch. He can, but that is not what he wants. Instead, he rubs his wet digit around the rim of her tight, little asshole and gently wiggles just the tip inside. Feeling her mouth tighten on him with the vibrations of the soft moan that escapes her as it tingles against his shaft, he remembers the first time he took her ass. He eases his finger inside until her sweet cheeks stop his advance by blocking the remainder of her fingers, forcing them to splay across her tight ass. The man pumps slowly in and out, mirroring the movement of her mouth on him. Small gasps escape as she sucks his cock, naked in the car with his finger fucking into her backdoor.

Carrie pulls off, looking up as he looks down, straining her parted lips toward his. He meets her halfway for a brief lick and kiss. Then he straightens up. They disengage with his finger slipping from her as she sits back, legs splayed wide and fingers roaming her sopping wet twat. Robert slips his hand in with hers, mingling her juice between their fingers.

“I have an idea,” he says.

“Oh?”

Robert glances over to the spot where he strangled Connie. The marble slab of the grave is empty except for the splotches of blood he has spilled. Carrie follows his eyes and smiles. He grabs her hand and drags her out the door. She reaches out, grabbing at his stiffness as he slides his fingers across her flowing cunt. They kiss long and deep as if reunited after months apart, consuming each other. And it isn’t far from the truth. Robert hasn’t been close to her like this is months.