Message-ID: <40830asstr$1044961803@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "Sean Farragher" X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 (Normal) X-MSMail-Priority: Normal Importance: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 10 Feb 2003 22:14:51 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel Chapter 104 Street Whores are Beautiful Too Date: Tue, 11 Feb 2003 06:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw If you have missed any parts of Taxi Murders the Novel, they are archived on ASSM -Google and at my web site. I welcome feedback in email. Sfarragher@nj.rr.com . Chapters 1-80 are available at my site. Updates will be posted at least weekly. Thanks, Sean http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook Taxi Murders the Novel -- Chapter 104 - Street Whores (c) 2003 Sean Farragher sfarragher@nj.rr.com http://www.seanfarragher.com http://www.seanfarragher.com/Joss http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook/ Chapter 104: Taxi Murders the Novel Audio Tape of Liana Fasciano Liana smiled darkly. Was she true cinema? Could she change this motionless world as red lines of taillights burned her hand, she said, as a thin cold stream of words paused and flashed moving quickly and slowly over the tender textures of skin. June 2, 1991 Liana: I loved many guys named Mike, Bill, Jay, John, Sean, David, Oscar, Oliver, and I couldn't stop them. They hurt terribly, pushing their hands into my mouth, drying my cunt perfectly with their wet dick. I knew them all from inside the drape of their cock and balls. Once there on their skin, I drove outside and my skin turned corners at eighty. That woman self same, darker, more indolent, was perfectly sane. She had no mouth, and her ears were closed. Did she whisper last night when I made love to myself? Did she tickle my phantom men? Did she serve the all well: good and bad, trick or sport? They pushed me across their lawn, shuffling my knees, and tearing my hair, pushing my tits inside and outside my blouse exposing my tenderness and desire for a true ache. These fuckers beat me with their belt, fucked my mouth landed down field on my spine; full weight on knees, twisting my neck, dancing heel to toe on my relaxed body. They shouted that I must not get up, until relieved. All of you? I am dazed. All must make their offering and my backside covered with semen and brush has a merry ache. During the taping, Laurie let herself in to Henry's apartment. Who's the bitch, Henry, Liana asked? I love her, Henry answered. Now, shut the fuck up and make your tape. My girlfriend has nothing to do with you. "Shit, if I saw you fucking around with my pimp, I'd make you wish you left your sorry ass home you fat white bitch," Liana responded to Henry's warning by attacking Laurie. Laurie, calm, said simply. "I learned along time ago never if you are an adult never argue or fight with a four year old. You never win, and besides, they may be right. Hi, I am Laurie. You are? "Liana Juliana Fasciano," Liana answered. I bet you do like to fuck four year olds, don't you cunt." Who is this shit, Laurie laughed. Hen, you really know the weird ones. She is cute though and got an edge. If she lets me, perhaps I could like her. Meanwhile. Henry darling kissing him and rubbing his cock, later darling." Part II Psychotic Diversions Liana Fasciano: I have a problem. How do I explain a psychotic diversion? It seems logical, and marvelously impossible. What if the dead could really come back to life? Yesterday, Liana appeared to die. I kissed her back to life. Laurie said I do that with her all the day, but she wasn't jealous. Just watch yourself, Mr., she grinned. Part III. Liana Fasciano: Audio Tape. May 23, 1991 "Could I live for all sin to realize my life? Hail mother, father, Holy Ghost. Am I that God like person? Henry, What can I say to my tricks as they gather on the Mount, holding back, letting me or me up rise up on their mouths or pricks? Can I admit to them that I've been dead? Does that mean I do not know how to move my ass. What about that shit that cum stained my two hundred fucken dollar blouse. He said he did it on purpose. Knew it would make me scream my tits off. He laughed at my ass. Sure I could have it dry cleaned, but it would always smell of him, and how much do I charge for a replacement. That Mafioso son of bitch knows my fucken father. Should I tell, have him whacked for a sloppy cum job. Nah, at least he works out, ain't no fat slob, and besides, I blow them all, even did my Uncle once, yes, that phony godfather dingbat. I have an extreme cause of emotional discontent. Pop and Pop Pop fucked me up when I was tyke. No kid begs for that fucked up a ride. Also could blame my suffering on the spirits, or arcane witchcraft. Bet you think I didn't know five- dollar words. I could have ranted and raved, then scream, "Mom made me do. ... That would have been a fucken lie. We all know that. I fucken suck dick for drugs. That's it. No fucken father raped me. No Uncle touched my cunt. No mother in law watched me bathe and masturbated after washing my fruit, as she called it. Well, this last one is true motherfucker. For More TxM6: http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook END -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+