His intense need to have sex with dead bodies was explosive in nature. It’s all he ever thought about as he watched the girls on the jogging trail. Normal enough with a plain, yet handsome face. Not too small in build and not large enough to intimate them as they each jogged past. A friendly smile and wave as he ate his cheese and crackers and read off his phone. A nice business man in his polo and slacks. None approached him, and he never seemed to ogle or undress them. Sure they would feel that stare to that ass and if they looked back they would see nothing. That’s the part he wanted to taste more than anything else in this how world. But to them not knowing his dark fantasies’ it was typical straight man actions and considered healthy in the male species. A couple of the women would smile to themselves as he appreciated that jiggling derriere. What these would be victims never saw was that he was on time for his three favorite joggers every day. If one didn’t show he would scout her out. Though he never changed his lunch hour he wanted to blend in. He wasn’t even an employee of any of these businesses around here. This was his jacking hour. Where he set up his mind against his big three jogging women into murder scenes he would jack off to cozy in a short while. The scene was important as he couldn’t get off any other way now. Soon even that wouldn’t be enough! The books he would read would be intense killer and victim series of dark and bloody details. In the Gallery, hundreds of murdered women’s bodies, collected from articles and sites no longer around. A collection of bodies he wanted to fuck, and devour a small piece of. He wanted to be bound with flesh after death and keep these beauties with him forever. He would need help soon and come looking for an Necrophiliac accomplice to help him get his needs met.
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