Feb 092011

Donnie “Fat Fuck” Scialanio looked around. This truly was a lonely place to die. The woods were pitch black and the tiny bit of moonlight that made it through the trees cast everything in a grim sepia of twilight. The train tracks stretched to the horizion of darkness like some sort of infinity plane. It was times like these that Donnie was glad that he took those art classes in school so he could have the words to describe the setting when he bragged about this murder later.

“Wow,” the woman said. “The Dairy Farmers Association does not fuck around. Who knew that investigating those milk ads would result in getting tied to a train track?”

Donnie shrugged. He was a blue collar kind of assassin. He just killed the people that other people paid to kill. It kept thing simple.

Still, it was a shame about this woman. Holly Valentine was a reporter and she was hot enough to be on Fox News. She had long red hair that captured every stray moonbeam and turned it into spectral fire. Long pale legs peeked out of a blue skirt. Plentiful breasts threatened to escape from her dress’s cleavage even if they had no hope of escaping the rope bound across her chest. Her hands were tied behind her, giving her a vulnerability that made even a hardened killer like Donnie want to rescue her. The gal was something special. Too bad she was about to become a wet smear on the train tracks.

“When is the train supposed to be here?” Holly asked.

Donnie was impressed by the tone of her voice. She was all calm and shit.

“In about five minutes,” Donnie said.

“Not nearly enough time,” Holly said, half to herself.

“Not nearly enough time for what?” Donnie asked.

Holly shook her read hair out of her face. Bound to the train track, she still made it look sexy. “Not enough time for one last fuck.”

Donnie laughed. Holy kept talking.

“No, seriously,” Holly said. “I’m a reporter for a news blog on the internet. I have to do real news. That keeps me too busy for a love life, you know? Do you have any idea how long it has been since a man touched me?”

Donnie looked down on her. “Are you trying to tell me that a hot chick like you can’t get any?”

“Trust me, most of the people I meet are trying to hide secrets from me, or trying to kill me,” Holly said. “It has been way too long since I had something in me that wasn’t powered by a battery.”

Donnie felt a stirring in his pants. “I can’t let you go,” he said. “I’m a professional.”

“Shit, I know that,” Holly said. “I’m just asking you to take advantage of me, okay? I’m tied up and helpless, don’t you want to grab a tit or something?”

“No way,” Donnie said. “I never molest my victims. I ain’t one of those creeps you see on those sexual assault crime shows.”

“I know you’re not,” Holly said kindly. “But I am asking you. Could you please just squeeze my breast? Just a little?”

Donnie “Fat Fuck” came by his nickname honestly. He was a fat fuck. The number of gals who asked him to squeeze their breasts could be counted on one hand and still have enough fingers to bury a body. He wasn’t a pervert, but he wasn’t made of stone either.

Donnie stepped onto the train tracks and bent down. The rope crossed over and under her breasts, almost as if he had subconsciously wanted them available for later. The thin material of the dress was straining against Holly’s breasts. He reached down and cupped a tit. He gave it a little squeeze.

Fuck, that was nice.

“Get under the dress, silly,” Holly said. “I can’t do anything. Go for it!”

Swallowing hard, Donnie did as she requested. His fingers slipped into her cleavage and touched her soft flesh. He felt her nipple and he was surprised by how hard it was. Maybe the girl was hard up.

“Squeeze me,” Holly said. “Squeeze me like you want me.”

Donnie did want her. He squeezed. Fingers that crushed windpipes tightened around her breast. He expected her to cry out in pain but instead she moaned with pleasure.

“Oh that is nice,” Holly said. “Check my pussy, you’ll see how much I like it.”

Donnie kept squeezing her breast. “Are you serious?”

“Hey, I’m about to get run over by a train,” Holly said. “Man up and finger my pussy. We both want it.”

Donnie squeezed her breast harder. “Yeah, damn it. I’m a hardened killer. Your pussy is mine.”

“There you go!” Holly said.

He let go of her breast and flipped her skirt up. The reporter was wearing a white thong that glowed in the moonlight. He pushed the thong aside to reveal a patch of fiery hair. Her legs were bound together at the knees but she managed to part her thighs a few inches. His middle finger slipped into her pussy with liquid ease. Not only was she wet as she claimed, but she was fucking tight as well.

“Oh fuck yes,” Holly said. “Keep doing that, keep doing that.”

Donnie stroked her. He used short rapid thrusts like a good alley mugging. She was so wet and so tight, every thrust made her squirm and moan. The reporter was a writhing victim to his fingers.

“Do whatever you want,” Holly moaned. “Use me as you wish, just keep stroking!”

He took his other hand and ripped her dress open. Both breasts glowed in the moonlight. He groped one and then the other; kneading them to his heart’s delight while Holly kept moaning.

“give me you fingers,” Holly said. He didn’t understand her till she opened her mouth and flicked her tongue at him.

He let go of her breasts and stuck a finger in her mouth. Her lips snapped shut around his finger and sucked. Oh God, did she suck! He pushed in another finger and she took it. He pushed a third finger in her mouth and she sucked it as well. He fingerfucked her mouth as he fingerfucked her pussy and the squirming reporter clenched tight around both fingers.

She tried to say something but his fingers were gagging her. He pulled them out and the moaning reporter said one thing.

“Fuck me.”

“Right,” Donnie said. He stood up and unzipped his pants. His cock was hard and ready for her. He pulled off his pants and his underwear in a single motion. Holly’s bound body waited for him. The only question was how was he going to fuck her with her legs tied together?

“Turn me over,” Holly said as if she was reading his mind. “Turn me over and take me from behind.

This was the most cooperative murder victim ever. Donnie gently rolled her over and flipped up her skirt. Her ass was even more abundant than her chest. Round buttocks clenched together as if waiting for a smack of his hand.

Mad with power, Donnie did just that. His hand landed on her ass with a resounding ‘WHAM!’. Her ass clenched from the force of his spank.

“Fuck yes!” Holly said. “Get my ass, ready!”

Donnie was about to spank her again when he heard something terrible. It was the whistle of the train. He couldn’t see it so it might be a few miles off, but it was close.

“Shit!” Donnie said.

“Shit!” Holly said.

Donnie looked down at the reporter. Her bare ass waited for him. She was still squirming. He hadn’t even put his cock in her yet. It was fucking unfair!

“Isn’t there another train coming later?” Holly asked. “I mean, does it have to be this train that runs me over?”

“No, it doesn’t!” Donnie said. There was another train about an hour from now. No one said she had to be dead at a certain time.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her off the track. He set her down in the grass a few feet away from the tracks. Maybe he should bring her to the woods but fuck that. He had to have her now.

Holly must have been in the same state. Still tied up and on her stomach, the reporter managed to get on her knees get her ass in the air. The moonlight spotlighted her ass as she shook it back and forth.

Donne kneeled down behind her. His cock pushed up into the pussy that needed him. Wet heat engulfed his cock as he slipped all of himself into her.

“Fucking yeah!” Holly yelled. She had her head down and her red hair spilled over her like a blanket.

Donnie heard the train coming. He didn’t care. He fucked Holly’s pussy. He grabbed that wonderful ass and pounded the shit out of the reporter. Years of frustration channeled through his humping hips. That cute girl at the pizza place who wouldn’t go out with him? Donnie fucked Holly’s bound body for her. Those other mob guys who call him ‘Fat Fuck’? Donnie’ slapped Holly’s ass for them. That lousy ending to the Sopranos? Donnie fucked Holly’s pussy in revenge for incoherent finales.

The train thundered by. Car after car of crushing power stormed by Donnie as he fucked Holly. He felt like there was a metaphor about trains and his cock but he was too horny to think of one. The man was too busy tearing up reporter ass.

Holly might have come but the train was too loud for Donnie to hear her. He felt her pussy clench and her whole body shook in orgasmic spasms. Just the thought of her climaxing was enough for him. He came inside her yelled his triumph to the rushing train.

Donnie fell of her body. Holly kept squirming. Donnie watched in afterglow bliss as the reporter twisted in the moonlight.

When the train finally left, Donnie had to get back to business. He stood up on shaky legs and picked her up. She purred as he carried her back to the tracks.

“That was great,” she said. “Thanks for giving me that.”

“Hell, I should have done this a long time ago with other chicks,” Donnie said.

“Hey, you never know!” Holly said. “Women facing certain death sometimes are open to the craziest things!”

Donnie set her down on the tracks. He picked up his pants and put them back on. He nearly fell over twice. Fucking her had taken a lot out of him.

“Guy, you look like you need a nap,” Holly said. “Why don’t you go home already?”

Donnie yawned. “I am beat, but I should really stay. It ain’t professional to walk away before you are sure your job is done.”

“Hey, if you go now, I won’t tell anyone,” Holly said. “My well fucked ass will be dead!”

They laughed at her joke. “Alright, I will,” Donnie said. “You’re a great gal. Hope you get to heaven!”

“Thanks!” Holly said.

She watched as Donnie walked into the woods. She slowly counted to a hundred when she couldn’t see him anymore. When she was done counting, she went back to work on the ropes. Her squirming and twisting earlier had loosened them a lot, but the guy’s fucking and thrusts had helped her get most of the ropes loose.

A minute later she was free. She stood up and stretched. Her dress was torn but at least she was alive. Now all she had to do was get back to town and file her report.

Holly paused on the track. It was a shame that she didn’t get the guy’s name. He seemed kind of sweet.

  3 Responses to “Fiction: On Track to Death”

  1. She had long red hair captured every stray moonbeam and turned it into spectral fire.

    That captured?

  2. Thanks. I had an eerie premonition that the first comment on this story would be about a typo.

  3. Amazing. I really like this one.

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