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@jelly318 ‘s #Bolt For #WankWednesday

April 12, 2011

Kit watched the mark from her rooftop vantage point for a minute, her line of sight was perfect, text-book in fact. This was going to be almost too easy. She screwed the silencer into place, then mounted her M40 on the tripod. Slowly, she put her eye to the scope and aimed the sight at his chest. ‘No,’ She thought, ‘Shooting him there would be pointless, his heart is already withered, black and dead’. She shifted higher, aimed at his head, then down again, to aim the shot square into his crotch. ‘Now that would be poetic’ she mused, with a wry smile.

Kit drew back the handle of the bolt, and pressed the shell carefully into the rifle’s breech. As she slid the bolt home again, and heard the familiar click of the firing pin being cocked, she exhaled slowly into the sultry heat of the day. This was always her favourite part of the kill. The moments before the shot was fired were adrenaline fuelled, tense and exciting. She hadn’t missed a shot in years, but the uncertainty was always there.

There was a time when he had made her feel that same rush of anticipation. The remembrance gave her pause. She pulled her eye from the scope and took her finger off the trigger. ‘Breathe, Kit’ she thought, as her mind flooded with the memory of their time together. After a day of intense training, or combat, especially if there had been live targets, they would always fall into each other for something akin to comfort. Fucking away the intensity of the day was a preferred relaxation technique, for both of them. In de-briefing they would laugh at the entendre knowing that soon they would be doing exactly that. Doubt began to creep into her mind. Could she really take the shot? Yes, ultimately she believed she could. ‘Fuck him!’ she thought.

She remembered the earthy, metallic, salty taste of his skin. The taste of his blood and sweat, burned on her tongue and in her mind as her thoughts filled with images of their congress. Her hand resting on his muscular chest, his hands, tongue and cock between her legs. The images flickered by like scenes from a movie. She still had the scars from those days when only the roughest of play was enough to sweep away the demons that followed them, and the ghosts of the lives they had taken. Joyously, they bit, scratched, cut, tore and bruised each other, searching for honesty in this most intimate of interactions. The feel of him in her, on her, over and behind her, had become so familiar and, eventually, necessary. She had needed him, and she hated that. She hated becoming dependant on their union to make her feel something intense enough to override the incidents of the day.  He told her once that he needed her too.

‘Liar!’ She spat the word aloud, and bristled with anger remembering how he had disappeared, just vanished, without so much as a ‘Fuck you’ note. Bastard! She sat back on her haunches and ran her fingers through her hair. She looked up at the darkening sky and saw the heavy clouds that were beginning to cover the city. They were converging and roiling over the skyscrapers in the updraughts of heat. The approaching storm was gathering strength. It would rain soon, the air would cool and the blood, his blood, which she was about to spill once more would be washed away into the gutter. She shook her head to dislodge the memories of him that coagulated there. ‘No quarter!’ She thought, and put her eye back to the scope.

He was gone. The bistro chair he had occupied was now filled with a fat, sweaty man in a wife beater vest. He was stuffing his mouth with an enormous sandwich, ketchup oozed out of the bread and dripped onto his chest. She felt like pulling the trigger anyway, no one would notice the blood, they would think it was just the tomato sauce. ‘Fuck’ She thought ‘You idiot!. Rookie mistake, Kit! Rule number 1: Never take your eye off the mark!’ A roll of thunder like distant drums sparked an ominous feeling in the pit of Kit’s stomach. She heard the light crunch of approaching footfall on the rooftop behind her and swiftly dislodged the gun from the tripod. Instinctively she knew it would be him. Her pulse quickened as she turned, gun still in hand, to look at him and see the face that had eluded her for so long now.

‘Kit!’ he called, and smiled, ‘Long time no see’. She held the gun at shoulder height now, aiming at his chest. He walked steadily toward her his hands held out in front of him ‘I come in peace’. His pace slowed as he approached, but he didn’t stop. Sudden tears filled her eyes, the sweep of emotion upon seeing him caught her off guard.  She  took her hand from the grip of her gun momentarily, to dash the tears from her cheek. Replacing her hold on the rifle, she shook it at him, ‘Stop there Fitz, or I will fire. You fucking bastard!’ His hard stare was enough to assure her that he wasn’t going to follow orders and she felt her resolve weaken. He came closer and closer until the barrel of the gun pushed into his chest. Kit could no longer see, the tears blinding her. ‘Fuck you.’ She said quietly, as he took the gun from her and his mouth closed over hers.

The feel and taste of his mouth and tongue was like a home-coming. Fire burned in her chest as they kissed, familiar hands held her waist and her fingers lightly brushed over his shoulders. His kisses moved to her neck. She could see the eagle tattoo on his back, a place where she loved to kiss him, and the mark on his shoulder where once, in the throes of their passion, her teeth had punctured his flesh. ‘You left me’ She said, her voice broken and barely audible. He lifted her on to the ledge that surrounded the rooftop. Her tears were still flowing. He raised her skirt and she opened herself to him, her hands found his belt and flies and she frantically released his cock, already hard, into her hand. He caught sight of the handgun that was strapped to her thigh and smiled at her. He didn’t bother to remove it, he knew she was complicit and passive now. Large drops of summer rain began to fall heavy around them, a bolt of lightning split the sky and thunder roared and rolled across the skyline.

Tilting against him she guided his rigid cock inside her. She had longed to feel him again, solid and pounding into her cunt. ‘It was nothing personal, babe’ He replied, ‘I just couldn’t handle it. It was too intense.’  He gripped her hips and hilted himself in her, she ground herself against him, her arms around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. The tears had stopped now, her emotions beaten back by lust. In a wanton state she fucked them both to orgasm as he pushed deep into her. They cried out in unison, her cunt gripped and squeezed at his cock as jets of warm come erupted from him, filling her and spilling out over them both. Rain soaked and sated, they clung to each other, shuddering. Kit exhaled a long ragged breath.

They grinned at each other as they re-adjusted their clothing, she smiled as he watched him fasten the buckle on his belt. Her hand reached for the hand gun under her skirt, quickly in one swift, precise movement, she released it from its holster, took hold of the barrel and brought the handle down hard on the back of his head. He staggered, the look of surprise on his face made her laugh out loud as he fell to his knees. She flipped the gun and gripped the handle, holding the muzzle to his temple. ‘You left me! You motherfucker!’ Kit shouted, her face betrayed her loathing.

‘I’m sorry!, Please, Kit, don’t’ He begged. Her finger squeezed the trigger. She watched as his body slumped to the ground, and stared at him until the light was gone from his beautiful eyes.

‘It was nothing personal…Babe’ She sneered, and tucked her handgun away.

From → Erotica

8 Comments
  1. Wynn Scarlett Frost permalink

    Oops. Haha. At least she got a fuck for the road, right? Hehe.

    xoxo,
    Scarlett

  2. Famous last words – it was nothing personal babe… this was fun to read, and long enough that you really built up the character for me.

    • Thank Erica! xx I guess the muse just felt like blowing someone away today. hahah. 🙂 She’s a bad girl sometimes. 😉

  3. Cherry Sweets permalink

    Wow, great story. Great writing. Great sex scene. Great ending!

    • Glad you liked it Cherry. 🙂 Thanks so much for commenting, it means a lot. xx 😉

  4. Squeaky permalink

    *stands up and cheers woman and story both* Yeah, baby! 😀

    • Hehehe, Thanks Toni. xx 😉 I really enjoyed creating her, she was fun. And, if I’m honest, slightly cathartic hahaha

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