What Happened in the Backseat that Night
Father, she was so beautiful. When I saw her in the backseat of that car, I almost cried…she was so beautiful. Exactly as I imagined her…. exactly how I dreamed her. Long dark hair, pale skin – "white as snow," right? I get so tired of the stepford types – bleached hair, fake-tanned skin. And so thin, so gym-body-perfect. But, mostly the fake skin – that's what bugs me the most about young girls. But this girl was different – small, yes, but soft. No hardened muscles and bone. Just a soft lovely slim layer of fat around her belly. I saw her through the window of a yellow cab. Her cab, maybe, but I doubt it. She looked young, like the girl in the dream. Perhaps, she had drunkenly stumbled upon the abandoned cab. Maybe she had sex in the backseat with a young college student or even better, an older man. Yes, someone in their 40's. She would like an experienced man. Like myself. Someone with experience . . . someone who was used to making young girls with soft bellies scream. All that I could remember from my dream was that it was a black man. He had fucked her – I was sure. I hadn't seen it, but I don't usually see the fucking, just the outcome. The aftermath, I guess you'd call it. Whatever helped me to find her. Him leaving her alone in the car, like Sleeping Beauty – waiting for me to arrive and take her home. They were all Sleeping Beauties and I loved them all. You look surprised, Father, but my words are truth – I loved them all.
I turned my chin to the sky and praised God right then and there; yes, father, I surely did. Then, I opened the door as quietly as I could, but the screech of the door caused her to stir in her sleep. She brushed her hair off of her face and sniffed – her nose wiggled and I realized suddenly that she had freckles. Small little dots all up her nose and down her cheeks. I sat next to her and shut and locked the door. Not sure why I locked it, I just didn't want to be bothered. I leaned over her and smelled alcohol. She actually reeked of alcohol. And smoke. Menthol. She smoked menthols. I turned to face her and leaned closer – mixed with the menthol was a thin slip of lavender. I knew that she must be the gift I was waiting for. I undid the button in her jeans and pulled down the zipper. But before proceeding with my usual ceremony, I leaned my head in close and smelled her hair – lavender, then slid my nose down her head and into her face.
"Mmmmmm" she stirred. "Please, Daddy." She spoke in her sleep, but I was sure that she spoke to me in her dreams as I did with her.
"Baby," I whispered into her ear, running my tongue around its edges and through the inside. I grabbed her waist and pushed my hands into her kidneys. Her belly was so soft; I had to slide the t-shirt up to investigate the belly button further. I kissed her cheek hard and pulled the skin up into my teeth, pushing my hands up her shirt. She began to wake, moaning slightly and pulling her hand up to her forehead.
I knew what she wanted, Father. That kind of moaning could only mean one thing, so I pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it up into the front seat, exposing a lacy red bra. It was padded with soft pink pushing her breasts up and out and into my mouth. I sucked deeply on the white skin in motion with her moans. She struggled as she awoke, but that only excited me further, "You know who I am." I whispered into her ear, a "You know that you love me," pulling her bra down to expose her thick pink nipple. I wrapped my lips around it and sucked hard, biting into the tissue and sending a thin trickled of blood down her breast pooling into her belly. Her eyes popped open now from deep slumber and she whimpered, looking up at me, into my eyes – "You know that you're mine now." God, she was beautiful. I pulled down her jeans – she struggled a little bit, but was too sweet and sleepy to put up much of a fight.
She wanted me. I could tell. Don't look at me like that, Father, you know as well as I know how much she wanted me. And even if she didn't, it wouldn't matter, because I was doing my work. She gave me that shiny whimper and the glossy wet eyes and I pushed myself into her, winding my self around her insides and taking her inner core. I pulled every last bit off of her and out of her, streaming blood over the backseat. She cried out, so I put my palm over her mouth and pushed inwards.
"Shhhh, baby," I told her. "You don't want us to get caught, now do you?"
When I was finished, I held her close, enjoying the feel of her blood between both of our legs. We were both sweaty, but cold, so I held her as close as I could. She cried softly – she was so overwhelmed by her love for me, I know - so I pulled her head back towards me and covered her mouth. "Go to sleep honey, go to sleep." But, she wouldn't go to sleep, she could only cry. So, I pulled my pocketknife from my back left pocket and took her completely.
Are you okay, Father? Don't look so faint. You must understand that she had to be taken completely, just as God took Mary completely. She had to be taken. You know it's the only way.