Kinky Sex Fetish: A Manhattan Murder Mystery 5

Catherine One
Catherine One

Although fictional, the tale of two Catherines always held some sort of transcendental meaning to me. Both wound up in situations completely outside of their control, put there by men they barely knew. I was one of the men that put one of the Catherines in a situation completely outside of her control, the other Catherine was put there by other men, men that I don’t know, and men that have, to this day, never been identified. One of the Catherines wound up orgasming a few times and having a grand old time. The other Catherine wound up dead. The first Catherine was just some little piece of ass I picked up somewhere, probably from online, and the other was a woman that I worked with. I met both Catherines only a few times. They were very different women.

Catherine one kind of reminded me of little Swiss Miss, she had shortish blonde hair, and was relatively short and petite. Catherine one has huge breasts and had even gotten breast reduction surgery. She was one of two women I have known that had breast reduction surgery. Neither of them were fat at all, in fact, had rather slim figures. But for whatever reason, they had huge, huge breasts, like double D’s or whatever. Catherine one told me she was even featured in a “Girls Gone Wild” video, flashing her tits for the camera at Spring Break or something. She was the first woman that explained to me how hot it was for her to be restrained. I’ll never forget the twinkle in her eyes when she said the word “restrained” afterwards.

Catherine two was a woman that I worked with. I really didn’t know her that well but she was really popular at work and everybody loved her. She was married, with two little children, about 6 and 7, and was one of those women that men always say nice things about behind her back. Not sexual things, complimentary things, about how wonderful she was, what a great personality she had, how popular she was, how much everyone liked her.

Catherine Two
Catherine Two

I had Catherine one bent over her bed with her panties pulled down to her knees, that was the only “restraint” there was, but she totally got off on it. I had a handful of her hair in my hand, and I was sort of pulling her head from side to side, by her hair. I would come to find out later this is a real turn on for a lot of women. It’s not the pain, it’s the fact that they are not in control of their own bodies, their lover is. I’m thrusting in her and she is trying to spread her legs farther apart but can’t, due to her panties being around her knees. I don’t remember how many times she came but she was moaning and writhing and wiggling for a long time. Her moans were muffled because I was forcing her face down into her pillow while I was fucking her. We only had sex a few times but this time was definitely the best for both of us. When I came in her, I growled like an animal, this gutteral kind of noise. It was really fucking hot.

This is the thing I’ve never understood about crazy bitch, the more women I was fucking at once, the more she wanted to fuck me. The less women I was fucking, the less interested. Crazy bitch became super interested in me when I was fucking someone else, and her interest would always cool significantly when I just wanted her exclusively. That’s why I would introduce her as my “roommate” instead of my “lover.” It would often work this way, I would bring someone to the apartment, fuck them, crazy bitch would be in the other room listening, and if I sent them home, crazy bitch would come in my room and then I’d fuck her. This happened surprisingly often.

Locked
Locked

In fact, I think Catherine figured this out and that’s why she stopped talking to me after about a week and a half. Her last words to me were, “keep it” when I lamely tried to meet up with her again to return a CD I had borrowed. No one ever plans to become a slut, it just sort of happens by accident. At some point you just start to forget various women. An article in the NYT said the hookup culture in Manhattan went into overdrive as a response to the attacks, even as a response to post traumatic stress disorder: fucking to forget, and to balance out the creation of death with the creation of new life.

I don’t know exactly what happened to Catherine two, but I can make an educated guess. I’m guessing she was at the top of the emergency stairs, banging on the doors, desperately trying to get to the roof where she could be rescued. But the doors were locked. There are very strict fire codes in all skyscrapers and emergency doors are never supposed to be locked. If I remember correctly, this information came out the day of the attack. People asked why they didn’t send helicopters to rescue people on the roof, but I don’t think anyone made it to the roof, because someone locked the doors.

So Catherine two probably burned to death, screaming.

Her kids are old enough to drink now.

To be continued.

Mystery

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