He saw her every day at work. His breathe would catch in his throat as he’d see her dark waves of hair reflecting the fluorescent lights. She couldn’t possibly know how she plagued his thoughts day and night. Her image twisted into his darkest fantasies. How he imagined knotting his hands into those raven tresses and slamming his cock into the back of her pale throat. Would her eyes water? He wasn’t sure but in his dreams those emerald eyes pleaded up at him for air as he throat fucked her harder still.

She didn’t know he existed, how could she? He was nowhere near her league. She was popular, always surrounded by friends and admirers. He hated and loved her in equal measure for not noticing him each time he passed her by. All the excuses he made to hover close by her, just to smell the perfume of her skin in the air. But those pools of green seemed to look right through him. Like he didn’t even exist.

She haunted his nights. Laid in the dark breathing in the smell of his own sweat and lust while throttling his cock hard. Fixated on the rise and fall of her tits as she breathed. How he would love to touch them, squeeze them, damn it, slap his cock across them to teach her for being a superior bitch. Dreaming of her cries as his conquering cock breached her delicate lips.

His obsession grew hourly. He knew the opportunity to tell her how he felt would pass if he didn’t act soon. And so, he planned. Wrapping his fetid wet dreams into a fairy tale ending. One where she didn’t look through him but realised he was in fact all she’d ever wanted. She needed filling up like the perfect angel whore paradox he knew her to be.

And so, he came to be stood hesitantly in front of her. Those fucking eyes like jade lasers shaming him for his thoughts, burning into his very soul. His rage erupted. He would not be ignored. Grabbing her alabaster throat and squeezing, his cock hardened instantly. Using his free hand to stroke her face he was pleased to note she didn’t squirm in revulsion at his touch. His cock demanded to join the game as he enjoyed the lack of fight. Pleasure seeking pleading eyes replacing the judgemental burning. Submissive now, she belonged to him as he forcefully began to wank.

Yes… his hand slid down to her tits, no more teasing, heaving sighs. He would claim what was his. Not a word escaped her lips as he finally closed his fingers over her flesh. The feel of her hard nipple brushing his palm spilling him over the edge. Hot, filthy spurts of cum firing over her impassive face. His guttural moan interrupted only by the sound of the heart monitors flat line beep. As he froze in shock, bent over her bed, her lifeless green eyes bore into him accusingly.

 

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