How can you kill a dead man?So, once again I was alone. I was dying and I was alone. What now, bright boy?Seven days later I got a call from the police informing me that the driver of my wife's car had been released on a technicality. Some rookie cop had screwed up the booking and a clever lawyer had gotten him free. The driver's name? Harve Lattimor.I waited a while; biding my time, getting things ready. Plotting and planning like I used to do while playing games when I was a boy.I sent Mom and Dad back home, and started going to class again. I returned to my little room in the dorms. I pretended to study. Pretended to care about whatever drivel they were teaching.In my spare time, of which there was far too much, I stared at the face in my bathroom mirror and wondered who the hell he was. He didn't look like the me I remembered. The face was sorta familiar, but it never seemed to move. His eyes looked like mine, but they were lifeless and dull. My hair was red. The emotionless. He pulled me closer and settled me in his lap against his chest. I clung to him and moaned as his hand rested on my side then he massaged my stomach at the base of my ribs for a moment (((I'm very sensitive there))). His hand moved slowly upwards and cupped my breast. He rubbed my nipple with his thumb making it harden and rise. I moaned again and couldn't help but move against his pelvis. He groaned as my hip connected and slid along his penis. His hips thrust gently against my movement. I continued to kiss him but moved so I could stradle his legs. My skirt shimmied up my legs and he pushed it higher until he felt a soft wet heat against his thighs. (((I don't like wearing underware with my skirts))) He had to touch me but went slowly sliding his hand down my torso to my thigh. He massaged around my thigh for a moment then seized the moment as I gasped out his name. He delighted in my breathy whispering of his name and touched one finger to the hot nubbin resting within the soft.
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