Page 32

SIX FEET UNDER & SIX INCHES DEEP

CYRUS

I walk along, scanning the terrain, following Amber’s tracks through the backyard.

Eventually, next to some wild raspberry bushes, I discover where my little psycho decided to bury her best friend.

Walking over, I let out a small chuckle.

I can see why she asked me to finish the job.

If we waited to do this in the morning, I guarantee the wildlife would’ve got to her first. Summer’s lying on her back, next to a shallow grave that’s not even three feet deep.

She’s also covered in so much blood, it would appear she bathed in it.

I’m not sure what went down between the three of them in the house, but I am surprised Amber doesn't look any worse for the wear. I slide the shovel I’ve been carrying off my shoulder, and pierce it into the dirt.

Trying to get this done before the deep darkness of a forest night really sets in.

The faster I bury her friend, the faster I can bury myself inside Amber.

It feels like I’ve been tossing dirt out of this hole for hours, a marathon I’ll never reach the finish line for. This is the part that nobody tells you about. The clean up. If I could hire someone to strictly do this task for me, I know my body count would be so much higher.

Soon, I hit a layer of clay in the grave. That will have to be deep enough, because…fuck trying to dig through that.

Bracing my hands on the side of the hole, I use it as leverage to jump out of the grave. Turning to where Summer lies, I ask, “Are you ready for your new home?”

I don't actually expect her to reply, but I close the space between us.

Crouching down next to her like we are having a regular conversation.

“It's a real shame you had to die before we got a chance to do anything.

I just know you have some phenomenal tits hidden under those loose band tees you've been wearing all weekend.” If I was a holy man, I wouldn't be having these depraved thoughts running through my mind.

I guess it's a good thing I am far from holy, or even good. I’m so fucking depraved, I bet I make the devil blush.

I position myself behind her, bending down to pull her up into a sitting position.

She doesn’t sit on her own, so I drop to one knee in the wet earth, using my other leg as a backrest to keep her steady.

It takes a little maneuvering, but I’m able to get her Bring Me The Horizon t-shirt off. Knew it, great tits.

I stand back up, letting her slump to the ground.

Slowly, I take everything in. Summer’s wearing a thin, black lace bra, the shimmer of the little silver balls on either side of her nipples glinting through the flimsy material.

The tattoo of a skeleton hand holding a bouquet of flowers paints the skin between her breasts, and my mouth waters.

Getting back down on the ground, I straddle her hips. My cock stiffens beneath my filthy jeans, rubbing uncomfortably and restricted. I pull down a cup of her bra, spitting onto her soft nipple. I spread the saliva over it with my thumb, leaning down to blow cool air on the stiffening peak.

She might be dead but I can still make an attempt for it to appear enjoyable for the both of us.

I swirl my tongue around her nipple, as my other hand rolls her ignored nipple between my fingers. Kissing a slow path down between her breasts, I trace her tattoo with my tongue. Oh, how I wish she was breathing for this. Willing or not, it doesn’t matter, I just want her squirming from my touch.

Kissing and nipping my way down her body until I reach her waistband, I swiftly remove her pants. Slowly losing the battle raging within me about enjoying this moment with her, even in death, since we were robbed of one in life.

Her bare pussy gleams back at me, and I silently wonder to myself why none of these girls wear fucking panties.

The only one I’m not sure of is Savannah, but I could find out.

I know where the entrance to the cliff gorge is.

It’s a hike, but I’m sure Amber would enjoy a morbid little hike through the woods.

If not, I’ll just piss her off enough that she chases me to the death scene where Savannah plummeted to her demise.

Dirty, filthy thoughts flip through my grey matter, and I’m done taking my time with the woman before me. In a quick maneuver, I have Summer on her stomach, one leg straight, and the other hiked up and bent, exposing her glistening pussy.

Does she get turned on by fear? I don’t know what could’ve been running through her mind while being murdered by her best friend to get this wet, but I’m not fucking complaining. We would have been so good together in life if fear was an aphrodisiac for her.

I take my dick out of my pants, position myself at her entrance, and slip right in.

Fisting my hand tight in her hair, I pull her head back.

Lips brushing the shell of her ear as my fat cock thrusts in and out of her dripping cunt, I whisper, “Who knew a dead girl could be this fucking wet.” I keep her just like that, hair pulled tight, back arched unnaturally.

Not worrying if I hurt her, she’s just a corpse.

Ruthlessly, I start pounding into her, my free hand cracking off her ass.

“Yes,” I pant. “Such a perfect little doll letting me ravage you like this.” I swear I feel her lifeless pussy flutter around my cock, and it sets me off.

Driving my monster dick into her, I fill her up.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking my load like it’s going to bring you back to life. ”

For a moment, I wish that she actually was alive, then I could feel her clenching around me. However, it's a little too late for that, and aspirations are pointless unless they are within the realm of reality.

I pull out, watching mesmerized as my cum starts to leak out of her puffy pussy.

Using two fingers, I gather up my jizz, pushing it all back in.

Just because she’s no longer breathing, doesn’t mean her spirit won’t appreciate my kink.

I slip my fingers between my lips, sucking our juices clean off them, then tuck myself back into my pants, and zip up.

I get back on my feet, letting out a long breath.

Realizing I’m too exhausted to fully fill in this massive hole, I roll Summer into it.

She plops down in a heap, the remaining air in her lungs hissing out of her upon impact.

I kick a thin layer of dirt over her, then head back to the cabin, hoping the depth of the hole is enough to deter the larger predators.

It’s not really the end of the world if the carrion birds get to her.

The early bird gets the worm after all. Or, in this case, the early bird gets the pretty emerald eyeballs.