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I don't care if they live or bleed to death. I doubt many do live, after all, I choose men who live alone. Harry was my forth victim. He was tall, quite fat and had short brown hair. He lived. I met him on a website. He'd been dumped recently and wanted a new girlfriend. I found a picture of myself and using the miracle of photoshop changed me from a tall, tanned black haired girl to a short white blond, with a small nose, white teeth and plucked eyebrows. I thinned the lips, raised the brow, shortened the chin, and made the ears smaller, and pierced. Then I posted it on a 'find true love' website. I said I preferred men who lived alone in quite neighborhoods, as I had finished work as a small time actress and wanted my privacy. I also said I lived in Atlanta, though I live at the other side of America. Then I waited. I got a lot of looks, but hey, who doesn't want to date a beautiful, single, actress. Then I found Harry. He wanted to be a Captain and was training for it. His training would soon be cut short by a long trip to the hospital. I went straight to his apartment for the first date. I dressed in slutty clothes and a blond wig, so I wouldn't be recognized and stepped into his apartment. I lied and told Harry that I'd been to the beach, to get my tan. He smiled and the horror he would face began.
"Are you a virgin?" I asked "Yeah." He replied. I felt in his pants. "Oh. Large one." I whispered. He then pulled me into the bedroom and lay me on the bed. I pulled off his trousers and underwear and began to suck his dick. It wasn't large, it was small enough to fit in my mouth, balls and all. Then I bit down. Harder and Harder. Then he cried out and fainted as I bit it in two. Blood spurted out. I gave him a sleeping pill and went round the house to wipe away the fingerprints and marks on the carpet. My sister runs a prostitution business and I rang her number, told her it was done. I then left an advert for her business on the sideboard, making sure Harry's fingerprints on it. Then I picked up everything I had. When I checked the clock. It was 3:30 in the morning. I put the wig back on and put the clock ahead an hour and then smashed it on the way out. Left no fingerprints again and left. I looked like a prostitute. Then I left. I was never there. A slut was.
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