I can smell the panic on her as I watch the beautiful scene of angst unfold before my eyes. I can see her from where I watch but no one ever sees me, not when I dress like this. I’m hiding in the best place a person can hide, right out in the open.
My cock hardens as I finger the pearls. She’s so pretty, but that isn’t what excites me, it’s the power and control I hold over her. She’s sobbing, beating on the man’s chest in between panicked attempts to find what I’m holding in my hands.
This is all her fault. She pushed me to do this, I asked her nicely to contact me and she ignored me. She ignored me like all these other people do when I walk the streets looking for the next cog in my sick little game of serial killing.
I can’t resist tugging at my hoodie pulling it out over my face and crossing the street, making my way down the sidewalk close enough to hear her sobs she emits as she’s crumbled into the chest of her hero. Neither of them know yet, he can’t save her, no one can; except for me…
An excerpt from an upcoming book Urban Renewal
©2015 Suzanne Steele