The erotic writer receives countless emails from fans--mostly women with rape and snuff fetishes. Their stories are almost always the same--they fanta...ize that some serial killer would rape and murder them. While most of them have been sufficiently sane to admit, after a few rounds of e-mails, that they don't really want to be murdered by a serial killer, most had dropped subtle hints that if the erotic writer should decide to track them down and rape them for real, it wouldn't be the end of. She didn't remembered what happened to her. ?You'll be working as a toiletlady in a café. Don't worry; it belongs to one of my buddies. Your jobis quite obvious. You have to clean the toilets and receive some money fromclients who use your service.? They got out at an obscure café which didn't seem to have a name. Theyentered the building and Sergei showed her the toilets. In the small hall adjunctto toilets, it had a little table and a chair. Each client had to pass thehall before entering the. I'll put this on before I get close."I looked over at Jen and Dave. They had stopped, looking at us. I looked down at where they were joined together, imagining his throbbing cock, so close to cumming inside my clueless girlfriend, possibly impregnating her. I couldn't break the mood!"Okay, but...be careful!" I stopped trying to push him away. He thrust all the way inside me, causing us both to grunt, then slowly withdrew halfway. Then he pushed in again, but not too fast. It really did. ” The PA bing-bonged off.“What the shit is this about?” Persephone growled to her feet. “Tell them about tonight and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”“OK.” Kristi nodded. She didn’t say word one until Persephone disappeared around the corner. “We need a big carpet to roll her up in and a bridge to throw her off of.”“There’s Gauss Bridge, it’s almost four feet above the river.” David suggested.“And that river’s almost two foot deep. In that one tiny part.” Curtis nodded.“Thank you guys!” Kristi.