A full teardrop runs down a pale cheek. It pauses, twinkling on the edge of a trembling jaw; another drop joins it, and as the little throat contracts in one final swallow, the tear does not touch the thick white rope as it drips from the uneasy chin, and lands on a milky white breast below. Within a fraction of a second, the teardrop finds a soft nipple set in motion by hyperventilating lungs. A few more drops join from above and form a cooling salty coat around the hardening nipple. Then, for a magic moment, the breast is weightless. Like the beautiful little body of which it is a part, it falls five, maybe six inches, and for a moment changes shape, together with its twin, in a joyful little dance, before the thick white noose tightens under the delicate head. With a twitch the pair bounces in joy, leaving the teardrop in free air until it once again joins warm skin; it passes a sweet navel, runs over the smoothness between two young legs, and embraces a little pink button already stirring. It rests for a little while as shoulders and hips writhe desperately in vain. Then, as a pair of knees is lifted, the teardrop is released by a warm, searching head that makes the helpless girl shiver in ecstasy, as the teardrop blends in and mixes with thick liquid at the slippery encircled tip. The following moment the shaft sinks deep into the helpless body, and the magic blend of fear and joy disappears into the hanged little girl.


Thanks to editor MephMarwood