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Brian blurted out a loud, low pitched yell as his body stiffened and trembled, pumping torrents of his warm cock milk into the decapitated cum dumpster. Still grunting, Brian pulled out of the corpse, and picked her up again by the waist. He dropped the body to the ground with a thud. And shifted her along the floor, he parked her ass in the air, resting on her limp legs, her one attached arm spread wildly on the floor, while her top half perched on the base of her severed neck. The V of her pussy poked out between her thighs, presenting to not just a camera, but also to Beth’s prized pit bulls. Brian picked up Kate’s severed arm walked slowly away and out of the room, still moaning like a zombie. Beth got up, and shook her hips as she walked towards her dead friend’s sexy, mutilated corpse, her dogs following closely behind. She got on all fours, right besides Kate. And presented her own leaky pussy to her dog friends. Almost in sync, the dogs mounted a body each. Instinctively. Basically the car was a sleeper street racer. I had a net worth of just fewer than 15.8 million dollars. Not bad for a back woods Missouri redneck. The icing on the cake was my age. I had turned eighteen just ten weeks before. My hand dropped to the stereo and clicked off the CD, which was now playing Down Ass Bitch from Ja Rules Pain is Love CD. My hand then slid from the dash to the leather covered stick and dropped the car into neutral. I eased the car to a stop, I didn’t bother to pull off the road because there wasn’t one. I was being lead by a Magellan GPS unit mounted to the dash board. With the car stopped and braked I looked over at the seat next to me. The aluminum brief case sat proudly in the seat. It was almost as if it knew about the nine hundred and fifty thousand dollars it carried. Soon the case would be in the hands of Columbian cocaine traders. I was a drug runner. Plain and simple. I got a phone call on Friday afternoon and given the information I needed. At ten.
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