Ad Nauseam - By C. W. LaSart Page 0,17

I’ll figure it out.”

Chantal and Liza searched the area for anything they might have left behind that could have fingerprints on it. She gave the orders and Liza obeyed, letting Chantal think she was smarter than she was, and that the other hooker would indeed figure something out.

***

Chantal scowled at the screen, her eyes tired from too much reading. She was getting frustrated at the lack of useful information on the internet. All she could come up with was that angel lust happened to the victims of roughly one in three violent deaths, mostly from hanging, gunshots to the head, or poisoning. Well, they had tried the first two and nothing had happened, but she wasn’t sure she could get her hands on any kind of real poison.

Will the third time be the charm? She thought. What if it’s not? She was starting to lose hope. It had been two days since they offed the guy in the woods and she was fast running out of time to come up with something.

Thunderous pounding on the door interrupted Chantal’s musing, and she hurried to it, peaking out of the eyehole. Liza stood on the other side, her head whipping back and forth, looking everywhere at once. Chantal opened the door and Liza rushed in, closing it behind her, as if someone had followed her.

“Get your camera and come with me.” Liza said.

“What’s going on, Liza?”

“No time. I’ll explain on the way. Grab that cell phone from the rich dude, too. Hurry up!”

Chantal grabbed the stuff and shoved it in her purse, then followed Liza out the door. There was a light drizzle falling, and she wished she had grabbed a coat with a hood, but soon forgot her discomfort as Liza explained what happened that evening. By the time they reached the other woman’s front door, she felt flushed with excitement, and a little fear. Liza’s place looked the same as usual, with the exception of the dead guy sprawled across the bed. He appeared well-kept and clean, his gray hair neatly trimmed.

“Oh my god, Liza! Is it really?”

“Yep.” Liza pulled back the sheet thrown across the lower half of the otherwise naked corpse.

“No shit?” Chantal just stared, her stunned face making Liza giggle. “You did it. You fucking did it!”

“Yeah, well, this john rolls up and offers me a hundred bucks for some kink and I bring him back here. So we start getting it on and I start looking at the base of the lamp. I notice how heavy it is and I start thinking about how I could hit him with it. So he’s eating my pussy and doesn’t even notice that I grab the lamp and I hit him real hard in the back of the head. But it doesn’t kill him, just knocks him out, so I wrap the cord around his neck and start pulling. He was already hard when I hit him, but so was that asshole in the park, so I waited half an hour before I came to get you, scared that the boner was gonna go away, but it never did.” Liza finished in a rush, her face glowing with happiness.

“You did great! I can’t believe it. It sucks that he’s in your room, but we’ll figure out what to do about that later. Let’s get the camera set up and do this. Which one of us is gonna fuck him?”

“Wait now, I killed the dude, so I think it’s only fair that you fuck him.” Liza stuck her chin out, resolute in her logic.

“Okay, I’ll do the fucking, but you need to make sure you get good angles and stuff. We wanna give Dan his money’s worth so he doesn’t think about stiffin’ us.”

Liza started giggling and Chantal just stared. “What the fuck’s so funny?”

“Stiffin’!” Liza snorted.

“Oh for Christ’s sakes! Just get the camera!”

It took them fifteen minutes to get the room set up the way they wanted it, and another ten to adjust the lights to amplify the scene and minimize the shadows cast by the furniture. The john had been dead for well over an hour by the time Liza turned the camera on.

Chantal lubed up his erection, straddled the corpse, and slid onto the dead flesh.

“Do you think I should be using a condom?”

“I don’t know, Chantal. It’s not like he’s gonna cum or anything. What does it feel like?”

“It’s really hard but kinda weird. Not cold yet, but not warm either. At least he doesn’t smell