Seamstress Morticia

I was walking home after a night of worshiping. I smelled like weed, and camp fire. I knew I would attract someone. Get them to follow me. My body was barley covered. My ass was hanging out, my tits were out. I knew someone would try to take me and have their way with me. I was hoping for it. I wanted to use my knew hunting knife. I acted like I was drunk, stumbling over myself. Leaning on walls and falling down like a stupid drunken whore would. I wanted to look vulnerable. I wanted to look like an easy target. As soon as I passed him, I knew he was the one. He was a big black man. I knew he was going to act like a nice guy and walk me home. But home was a dark ally, he threw me into the fence and started ripping my panties off. Just as he was about to put his dick inside of me I stuck my sharp new knife into his ball sac. It was like a hot knife into butter. So smooth, so easy to cut into his flesh. I did a number on his cock and balls. If he lives through that, He wont be so eager to help someone out next time!

Morticia

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