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It was such an intoxicating experience my knees went so week I had to lean harder against the wall to stop myself from crumpling to the floor.Santos groaned like a wild animal as he fucked away in frenzy, my eyes closed in on her sexy firm breasts which jiggled about under the force of his pounding assault, my mouth watered as I wished I could lick her hard nipples and suck on her beautiful twin peaks. My soft moans grew into groans which were getting even louder as my eyes closed involuntarily as I finger fucked myself faster, flicking my engorged clit with my thumb and listening to their mind blowing moans. I struggled to open my eyes when I heard the bed was creaking and amplifying their movements while hammered her even harder. “Oh Papi! I’m cummmmmmmmmming!” she screamed out loud, her desperate love cry birthing her orgasm tipped me over the edge too. My eyes closed tighter, and my back arched as I felt my slippery walls clenching around my fingers, and sucking them in deeper.. You’ll see. Other than all that, I am still a normal person. Oh, others of my kind, along with myself, seem to have some sort of unique ability that they have developed, usually different per individual. Some can ignite held objects on fire, others may be able to read minds. There is only one whom I know to posses the incredible ability to fly. Our special skills have developed to and are intended to help us hunt, to help us survive. Not that my kind really need the help. So, what am I doing this for? Why am I writing down my story? I only halfway know. I want to come out of the shadows, I lived my whole natural life hiding from society, from people. I hid from the world, wasting my life hidden away in the safe corners of my own mind. I never was a family man, having only a few short relationships more akin to brief encounters than anything else. There is no one left of my human bloodline to carry my name, not even an old friend to remember who I was. They are all dead now. But.
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At 7 a.m. we were at the marina watching from across the parking lot as Arthur readied the boat for his outing with Irene (who was shopping back in Birmingham). When the thirty-two foot black sailing beauty was ready, I strolled across the lot and along the pier. Arthur conveniently turned his back to face the cabin, I stepped onto the stern and with my .357 pressed against his spine forced him inside the cabin. After securing Arthur inside, I used the motor to maneuver the boat out of the harbor and around the jetty. A novice sailor at best, I continued to motor far off shore. Dana followed in acenter-consoled motor boat several minutes later. There was a brisk breeze and plenty of chop, a prelude to the latest tropical storm being passed off to the gulf from Cuba. The empty boat would be discovered, it’s pilot lost at sea. Even if the body was found, there was no trauma, no gunshot wound, just an aged man lost at sea. *** During the first five minutes with Dana at the Overlook.

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