Naked she she took the most erotic shots yet of her wielding The Knife, some with blood trickling across her belly as she gently pressed its tip into ...er skin. Now it was time. She went through the door from the kitchen into the garage, the cold concrete beneath her bare feet adding to her excitement about what she was about to do. She clamped The Knife in her father's vice and pulled the handle over as hard as she could. Shit! It was bending not snapping. Swearing she swung back with all her. Startled he was busted, entering the room smiling at her knowing there was no turning back, quickly stepping out of his trousers as she appraised him coolly, his eyes never leaving those dancing fingers as they played over her pussy, dropping to his knee's leaning closer, smelling her scent instantly making him high it was so potent, he could see her juices bubbling at her opening, as he leaned in his tongue snaking out the tip pointed as he scooped a droplet of her juice and smiled as he. She was probably what my mother would have called blowsy, but I had always thought she was quite pretty. Despite her reputation as a good time girl, Sharon was a clean screw, there had never been any talk of her giving boys the clap, as they said about some girls who were known to have round heels. She was a ladies hairdresser at a shop in town but lived over on the council estate with a father who regularly gave her and her mother a good beating and so Sharon spent most of her time hanging. Then opening some wine, poured us both a glass, and joined me by the fire to enjoy a drink while supper cooked. She had on a crisp white blouse fastened to her neck, and adorned with a lovely silver necklace. Momentarily I compared her to Agnes, she sat there so prim and proper with her feet in their ‘Granny’ boots side by side. So much more elegant and lady like, suddenly she went quiet and serious. I sensed there was something wrong with her, putting down my glass I reached over and touched.