Death, the Perfect ClimaxMature

Her body felt smooth and soft to my exploring fingertips.  She moaned softly as my fingers danced down her stomach towards her sex.  I watched her in her ecstasy; I took pride where pride was due. 

When one becomes as practiced as I at romancing women, it becomes an art.  This was merely the first step to my art.

I explored her body; diligently searching out her most sensitive of spots.  I knew when I had found them.  A delicious gasp escaped her trembling lips.  A testimony to my skill.

Her back arched and her toes curled as climax came upon her.  It was time to play the final act.

I continued to lead her deeper into sensuality as I removed the hammer that resided beneath my bed.  Her eyes were closed in her orgasm; she wouldn't see her last moment descend upon her.

My hammer fell and the claw gouged deeply into her sternum.  A gasp renewed my ecstasy.  It wasn't a loving gasp like those that had preceded it, but one of pain and betrayal.  The most beautiful sound she had made all night.

I pulled down violently on the hammer.  Her rib cage was torn open and blood spouted out in a most fantastic display.  Her warmth spread across my body and I basked in it.

I whispered sweet nothings to her as I watched the life leak from her eyes; I held her tight as she took her last breath.  Consoling her with every convulsive jerk that overtook her fragile frame.

Death was the ultimate sexual experience.

The End

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