daisydeadpetals
Forum Newcomer
- Joined
- Jul 31, 2013
- Messages
- 11
- Location
- USA
I didn't mean to kill you. Honest. I was only playing around, because you crashed my bike. I wanted to scare you a little bit, that was all. But the way your body writhed against me felt so good, and your muffled gasps and the crackle of the plastic bag were like a symphony, and when I saw your cock twitching up - well. I got a little carried away.
It's a shame you didn't come before you died, And you don't look so good anymore, you know, with the bag stuck to your sweaty, red face and your mouth stretched wide. You pissed all over the mattress, too. The college housing people are not going to be happy.
What do you mean, what am I doing? What does it look like? With my fingerprints all over the tape and the bag, they'll nail me for sure, and I'm not going to jail for this. No, I'll just put this other bag over my head, tape it closed, and lie down on the bed next to you. No sense in soiling two mattresses, am I right?
Wow, you're still warm. I hope you don't mind me moving closer. I want to feel you against me when I writhe, too. Maybe if I move your arms...yeah, that's perfect. I'll get a hand-job while I die, and your last earthly act will be to give me pleasure. Don't you feel useful?
It's getting hard to breathe in here. I think I'll duct tape my hands so I can't claw the bag off. Or maybe not - my fingers don't really want to move. Oh well. I guess I'll just shift my weight a bit...there. My cock is right between your hands. Just in time, too, because I'm getting awfully light-headed, and I can't really move my limbs. I think I'll just relax and breathe the stale air some more.
Oh, here I go! My body's starting to fight! I'd apologize for the smacks I'm landing on you, but I'm not in the driver's seat anymore. I can't even see you. I can feel your hands, though - you're good at this. Just a few more strokes, and---yes! There's heat flooding from my cock and balls, filling my boxers with cum. A pity you couldn't feel the same - it's amazing.
I just pissed on you, I think. Whoops. My bad. I know how much you like those jeans. I don't think you'll complain, though. I'm not moving so much anymore, either, just my chest heaving and my mouth gaping open. And that pounding in my head is starting to slow. I think maybe my heart is stopping.
Ah, yes - it just did, and my lungs have stopped too. I'm as dead as you are, now. But it's nice, lying here with you, with my arm across your warm chest and my leg hooked over yours. Our faces are awfully close - we could almost be kissing. And your hands are still resting on my cock. They'll probably think we were an erotic asphyxiation game gone wrong.
Gosh, that's a hot thought. I hope someone finds us soon. I'd rather go to the morgue warm and limp than all stiff and dark and awful-looking. And as much as I like your hands on my cock, they probably won't let us share a body bag. But it'll be easy for them to manhandle us if we're fresh, you know, and I think I'd like that, too. And if somebody decides to play with us, all the better.
But for now I'll just lie here quietly next to you and wait.
It's a shame you didn't come before you died, And you don't look so good anymore, you know, with the bag stuck to your sweaty, red face and your mouth stretched wide. You pissed all over the mattress, too. The college housing people are not going to be happy.
What do you mean, what am I doing? What does it look like? With my fingerprints all over the tape and the bag, they'll nail me for sure, and I'm not going to jail for this. No, I'll just put this other bag over my head, tape it closed, and lie down on the bed next to you. No sense in soiling two mattresses, am I right?
Wow, you're still warm. I hope you don't mind me moving closer. I want to feel you against me when I writhe, too. Maybe if I move your arms...yeah, that's perfect. I'll get a hand-job while I die, and your last earthly act will be to give me pleasure. Don't you feel useful?
It's getting hard to breathe in here. I think I'll duct tape my hands so I can't claw the bag off. Or maybe not - my fingers don't really want to move. Oh well. I guess I'll just shift my weight a bit...there. My cock is right between your hands. Just in time, too, because I'm getting awfully light-headed, and I can't really move my limbs. I think I'll just relax and breathe the stale air some more.
Oh, here I go! My body's starting to fight! I'd apologize for the smacks I'm landing on you, but I'm not in the driver's seat anymore. I can't even see you. I can feel your hands, though - you're good at this. Just a few more strokes, and---yes! There's heat flooding from my cock and balls, filling my boxers with cum. A pity you couldn't feel the same - it's amazing.
I just pissed on you, I think. Whoops. My bad. I know how much you like those jeans. I don't think you'll complain, though. I'm not moving so much anymore, either, just my chest heaving and my mouth gaping open. And that pounding in my head is starting to slow. I think maybe my heart is stopping.
Ah, yes - it just did, and my lungs have stopped too. I'm as dead as you are, now. But it's nice, lying here with you, with my arm across your warm chest and my leg hooked over yours. Our faces are awfully close - we could almost be kissing. And your hands are still resting on my cock. They'll probably think we were an erotic asphyxiation game gone wrong.
Gosh, that's a hot thought. I hope someone finds us soon. I'd rather go to the morgue warm and limp than all stiff and dark and awful-looking. And as much as I like your hands on my cock, they probably won't let us share a body bag. But it'll be easy for them to manhandle us if we're fresh, you know, and I think I'd like that, too. And if somebody decides to play with us, all the better.
But for now I'll just lie here quietly next to you and wait.
