Sex with dead bodies is the way I roll. I am not the most sexual woman in the world. Men need to learn that all I want from them is a stiff cock. I do not want to spoon. I do not care about their day. I do not want to date. I do not want to be called baby or honey. And I am not a submissive whore they can dominate. And I am not a dumb bimbo who believes any line they dish out. I learned when I was 19 that it was just easier to kill a man with an erection and use his dead cock when it was still warm and hard. It is the best solution for a woman like me. Dead men do not spoon. Dead men tell no lies. Dead men do not dominate women. Dead men do not talk. And dead men do not cum. I cum. That is all that matters. No mess. My first lover I killed was by accident. I met this guy at a Goth bar. He was handsome and cool. I had a fake ID saying I was 22. I had killed before, but I was still perfecting my craft and I had not yet killed a man I wanted to fuck. We were in my bedroom, and he switched personalities. He was suddenly aggressive and demeaning. I grabbed some scissors by my bed and stabbed him in the jugular vein. His dick was hard, and it stayed hard even as he was dying. Bloody phone sex does not scare me. Neither does the sight of blood. I took advantage of his dead cock and had the best orgasm of my life. I am not digging up corpses and fucking them, but a fresh cadaver with a stiff dick is all I need to get off. So, men, I do not need you alive to get what I want or need. Never forget that.
Venus
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