He was lying still, but his eyes were open. He slowly turned his head to face me as he heard my heels clicking on the blacktop. “Where did you go?” he asked. “Are you going to call for help, now?”
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I figured he was going into shock. His voice was weak, as if he was sleepy. But that wasn’t my only reason for thinking he was slipping out of it; like an idiot, I had left my purse by him. My cell phone was in it. All he had to do was reach in there and call 911, or his family. “Stupid,” I hissed, setting the gas can down and snatching up my purse. I removed my cell phone and checked to see if a call had been made. Nope. I sighed with relief and walked quickly back to my car. I could hear him calling after me, but I couldn’t make out what he was actually saying. I opened the driver’s side door and set my purse on the seat. I opened it up and pulled out my pack of cigarettes and a book of matches. That was all I needed from my purse, and better it be in the car. My dumb-ass might have left it at the scene. I was halfway back to him when I suddenly realized, yet again, how dumb I was. Did I really think this kid was going to just let me kill him? Yes, he was weak and in pain, and even trapped. But, he wasn’t going to just lie there and let me do it. He would fight. We are all animals with an instinct to survive. I could just do the deed and be done, but that wasn’t what I wanted. Like losing my virginity, I wanted my first time to be special, the way I imagined it.
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I went back to the trunk of my car and grabbed some nylon rope.
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By the time I returned, the boy was sitting up, struggling to pull his shattered ankle from under the car. It was obvious he saw the gasoline can. As he yelped in pain and continued to pull at his right leg, I simply moved behind him and wrapped the rope around his neck. It took awhile, but he finally feel back, gasping for breath. I could see deep rope burns on his neck. As he gasped for breath and coughed violently, I tied his wrists together. I walked across the road and wrapped the rope around a tree. I pulled hard until his arms were pulled back toward me, tied off the slack, and walked back to him. He looked sexy, lying on his back, arms pulled back, and the fear in his eyes. I wanted to kiss him, but knew he’d attack with his teeth. I stood over him, and looked down, smiling. He was adorable.
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I struck a match and lighted my cigarette. I said nothing, just calmly smoked and watched him watch me. He suddenly broke into tears and I felt an inner fire of arousal begin to boil within me. Kneeling next to him, I unzipped his jeans, yanked at his underwear, freeing his penis. It was small and soft. I began to stroke him, but knew damn well he wasn’t going to become erect. Smoking my cigarette, stroking his small penis, it suddenly occurred to me that at any moment another car could come along. I would be caught. Somehow, it didn’t matter. I didn’t care, nor did I believe it would happen.
