I live to be an assassin and for 27years thats who I’ve being behind the curtains. Initially, it felt like the whole world was on me but now I only see my targets, my pay and myself. Like all assassins, I await the greatest day of my life – the day my life would be claimed by a fellow assassin. Its my passion and my desire for blood that keeps me at it and the best in my jogo. Issues of love are things … “Open! Its me!”
The call pulls me straight out to reality. I never have slept this deep in years. Whats happening to me?! Something must be creeping in on me and through my subconscious. If thats an option, it has to be through her. She whom I’ve been spending all my time outside missions with for the last two years trying to tell love is not a pact of life for humans. Being young and foolish is not an excuse I’d let into my life through love to betray my career and my all I’ve worked for.
“Please open!” As I rushed up from my bed, a quick sweep of the room – an 8inch high bed, a brown-formerly white fan rotating drunkingly above the bed, a slip-on, my clothes on the floor for I always slept naked, my phone, a kunai and a 1967 Batusai dragon sword, came into my head. Just then, it occured to me that the footsteps I heard right out of my dream were steps from the 3inch heels she always wore. But why was she running and screaming out so loud at the inn? I never knew those would be my last thoughts before something sexual entered my head. As I opened the door, she rushed in crying. Straight to my shoulders she went not caring that I had no clothes on – it wouldn’t be the first but nothing sexual had ever happened, we somehow just didn’t care.
Its barely 23minutes and 18seconds since I let her in on my location and thats probably why I didn’t care if she was followed, but she wasn’t either.
She was in her early twenties, studying in the present day educational system in the faculty of law. Approximately 5feet 11inches – barely an inch below me. A disciple of the Victoria Secrets’ line of underwears and she loves them summarized and red. Blood red, for when she wasn’t wearing her famous black-one-inch-above-knee-length-hip-displaying-skirts, the figure-8-enhancing, breast-enlarging white blue-collared-environment shirts and the rectangular shaped naughty-girl glasses, she wore gowns. Strictly gowns. Usually silky, single-coloured gowns and usually red. Gowns that made her font-size 18 shaped figure 8 look like a font size 22 in a world where the accepted size was a 14. She’s got the body any man would kill for and had caused cult wars in years past. Some say she’s a cross breed of temptation and a human, but I say she’s a 38-29-40. Her carriage, eyes posse and definition were enough to make the traffic lights get place a red on itself.
Tears mixed with the sweat from the dream as she held me and flows down my back and through the path way of my buttocks. She squeezed me tightly in pain not caring that I hadn’t said a word as I struggled to shut the door. She finally let go and the first thing that integrated through my visions, to my brains and finally settling on my limp but yet to be painfully, maximally-blood-engorged erection was the sight of her nipples almost visible and wanting to tear the now sweat-soaked-from-a-hug red gucci wrap around gown.
Considering that the previous scenerios were a bit odd, I managed to acknowledge that it was 18:07hrs and still, a bit of day light filtered into the room and focused on the bed with silk sheets. “Its him again” she sobbed out, “we’ve finally broken up and its for real this time”. As she spoke and cried simultaneously in pain, I took note of her black eye on the left and the usual twinkle both eyes had fading out strangely in a mixture of sadness and intense desire – for something I probably think must be an excruciating revenge and that I must stop her from.
Suddenly, she looked in my eyes – my blood shut eyes and I felt her collect a form of life from them to rekindle the twinkle in her eyes. With the next set of twinkles I realised something – I had spent too much time with her and now I’m in too deep. “I need a way out”, were the words of my subconscious.
Hours went on as I tried to calm her troubled soul and evade the trap I knew I wasn’t going to escape. Something was wrong as she refused to succumb to the principles that had always worked on her. She desired something. She desired me.
Milliseconds passed and just as it clocked a second, lips, perfectly shaped lips that were thinly fine and naturally pink in any form of light engulfed mine. Knowing it would definately lead to a tongue tornado on the wonderfully structured strawberry sainted pink lips between the thighs and below the hips, I suddenly couldn’t think for the first time in my 27years. I followed en-suite driving her sexually insane for I was from a martial arts cult where We were Seduction, Seduction was Us and I, Seducto am still the best Male-Sleeper agent.
