We arrived the Four Points Hotel at Oniru around one a.m. Fatima was quite high already and could not stop chattering away. Her constant chatter was beginning to irritate me and could not wait to get rid of her.
At the reception desk stood elegantly, a tall plain looking lady. Her tag indicated her name as Chioma. She attended to us politely and with impressive patience because Fatima kept being a nuisance with her constant slurry outbursts and nagging.
After retrieving the key card to our, I dragged Fatima into the elevator. Our room was on the fourth floor and the elevator ride seemed endless as I was trapped with a drunk girl.
We finally arrived at our destination without much ado. I had one hand supporting my plastered date and the other to open the door to room 419, our temporary abode. It was a relief to be at the slaughterhouse I thought slyly to myself. I had to return to my car to fetch my tools for the ritual.
I laid Fatima gently on the bed and rushed out to get tools. The hotel was pretty busy with a diverse array of different nationals roaming the lobby. I would have fraternized a little on a normal day but this was far from a normal day, so I hurried back to Candidate 3. Yes, you read that right, she had become just a statistic to me and I felt no remorse.
I returned to the room in less than 10 minutes and to my utmost surprise Candidate 3 was up and alert like a soldier on patrol. How was that even possible? I thought to myself. She could not have been pretending all along I tried to convince myself. If she was acting, she would have made a great actress too.
"Such a waste!" I mused
"Such a waste!" I mused
“What took you so long?” she asked softly
“I had to get my night bag from the car” I replied with a smile.
I tossed the bag on the sofa nearby and wandered towards her to plant a generous kiss on her full lips. She pulled me down to the bed and let off a soft giggle as I landed awkwardly on her.
In a twinkle of an eye, she got rid of my clothes leaving only my loosely buttoned shirt on me. Wow! This girl was a tiger and she devoured me hungrily. I was beginning to doubt who was going to do the killing. I have to admit, she was a great kisser and her bed skills was unbelievably excellent. If she had lived long enough, she could have become an A-list porn-star. Comedienne, actress and now porn-star, she was indeed a woman of many talents.
After about an hour of intense sex with different positions explored and my mouth tasting sour from too much cunnilingus, I suggested that we spiced “things” up a little.
Looking at the mood she was in, I did not see her turning down what I had in mind. I got off the bed and collected a silk scarf, a pair of handcuffs and leather leg straps from my night bag. I returned to her with a knowing wink and she excitedly agreed to experiment. I strapped her firmly to the bedpost, hands and legs spread apart and then blindfolded her with the silk scarf.
Looking at the mood she was in, I did not see her turning down what I had in mind. I got off the bed and collected a silk scarf, a pair of handcuffs and leather leg straps from my night bag. I returned to her with a knowing wink and she excitedly agreed to experiment. I strapped her firmly to the bedpost, hands and legs spread apart and then blindfolded her with the silk scarf.
“You’re killing me softly” she uttered huskily.
“Hang in there! I’m just getting started!” I responded with a cunning smile.
I brought out the last element of surprise oblivious to my blinded Candidate 3, a rare vintage knife with silver blade. It is probably my most expensive asset asides my car. Its handle is a 14th century wooden ornament with Gothic engravings and the blade is made out of pure silver. I got the knife in Israel, from an Ex-MOSSAD buddy of mine. It was love at first sight as he narrated beautiful stories of people the knife had sent to their early graves. I have polished it every day since I got it, fantasizing about this very moment.
I glanced again at my unsuspecting victim, the mounds of her bosom rising and falling rhythmically in anticipation of my next action.
I connected my phone to my portable Bluetooth speakers and played Adagio by Mozart. I waltzed across the room to a trembling Candidate 3 who was going crazy from the thrilling suspense.
I ran my cold palms up her thighs, stroking her delicately and listening to the euphoric mixture of her moan and a serenading Mozart. I slipped my fingers into her warm and moist womanhood, playing an invisible piano synchronous to the piano concerto that was mesmerizing me. Mozart was indeed a genius!
“More! More! More! Don’t stop please!” I heard her scream out in pleasure, her body trembling vigorously as she struggled and twisted in the restraint. I felt warm sticky juice trickle down my fingers as blood exploded all over my face. I had plunged the knife straight into her heart just as she was about to cum. Like my favorite philosopher once said “Orgasms are like minor deaths and beautiful creations”. I had just killed candidate 3 at the nick of time. Hence denying her the complete definition of an orgasm according to my unbeknownst philosopher. I picked a bottle of Jim Beam from the mini bar, poured myself a double shot and downed it at once.
I went back to unstrap her from the bed, returned all my equipment into my night bag and polished Ted (my knife is named after my role model Ted Bundy) with some alcohol. I lifted the lifeless body from the bed and tripped. She was heavier than I anticipated and we both crashed, upturning the close to the bed.
I took another gulp from the Jim Beam, fell into a chair and blacked out…
I went back to unstrap her from the bed, returned all my equipment into my night bag and polished Ted (my knife is named after my role model Ted Bundy) with some alcohol. I lifted the lifeless body from the bed and tripped. She was heavier than I anticipated and we both crashed, upturning the close to the bed.
I took another gulp from the Jim Beam, fell into a chair and blacked out…
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