It looked really bohemian. There were pictures of rock stars tacked to the walls, including a number of women and one in particular who had posed with...nothing on but a leather bikini and a violin pressed suggestively between her legs. Then I spied another picture of the same woman reclined on a bed, stark naked, with her legs spread wide and a guitar lay across one of her nipples and she had her hand on the other one. She had her tongue sticking out and curved enticingly--it looked like she was. He imagined her firm, naked breasts mauled, her slender throat crushed, Robbie’s cock fucking her dying mouth.He turned on the TV to try to get her off his mind, but he could still hear her cries. He didn’t want to cross the line he was walking. It was one thing to kill someone out of necessity, but it was something else to do it for pleasure. He had never considered himself an evil man. A criminal, but not an evil man. He knew that if he allowed himself this pleasure, he would never be able to. More

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