Rachel
by Manntis


She was magnificent. I still couldn't believe it.

She smiled at me from across the table, as though able to read my thoughts. 
Her angelic expression lit up the small, dimly lit café and I knew I was 
captivated.

What were the odds? I had stopped to give a damsel in distress a lift, 
seeing her walking by the side of the highway. She was obviously cold, not 
dressed for the elements. When I stopped she'd been wary of getting into the 
car of a lone male.

I'd smiled, stating that I was indeed a killer but my hands were on the 
steering wheel and she'd have a fighting chance. Stating her fear out loud 
made her laugh, a musical sound I'd not heard in a long time. After checking 
that her door could be opened from the inside, she hopped in. It was still 
several dozen kilometers to town, after all. 'I'm Rachel' she offered. 
'Manntis' I stated as I shook her chilled hand. She gave me an examining 
look, opened her mouth to comment, then closed it wordlessly. I drove.

We began talking, and I learned that she was a 22 year old student. The male 
she'd been riding with had crudely demanded a blowjob, threatening to 
abandon her by the side of the road if she didn't perform. She'd chosen the 
latter.

I thought back to her forethought in checking the door to ensure an escape 
if necessary and realized this girl had a worldly intellect that more than 
matched her stunning good looks. When I mentioned I wanted to pull over, I 
sensed her stiffening slightly. 'It's okay', I assured her. 'See that café 
ahead? I'll pull over there. It's public, and you can call someone from 
there if you like.' Another of her magnificent smiles rewarded me.

She sipped her hot cocoa and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring its 
replenishing warmth. I let my eyes play over her slim body. Her slender neck 
led my gaze down to her ample breasts; round, firm, and in proportion to her 
frame. So many women these days had grotesquely exaggerated udders, while 
others a more boyish profile. I found hers to be, as the story goes, just 
right. The dampness of her shirt highlighted hard nipples, pointing 
deliciously at me. I assumed their state was from cold and not my charms.

Her flat abdomen artfully separated those perfect, fleshy globes from her 
curvaceous hips. I'd seen her firm, feminine ass as I'd driven up behind 
her, clad in sensible jeans. Unfortunately these jeans left the shape of her 
calves to my imagination, but her pretty feet with carefully manicured toes 
had the smallest of straps attaching shoe soles to otherwise bare flesh. 
They must have been freezing in the cold rain! I'd love to warm them in my 
mouth-

'So you're a feet guy, huh?' She'd caught me staring. I blushed. 'I'm an 
everything guy. But they are very pretty.' She smiled again, my heart 
melting a little more. 'I like you. You're confident, but friendly. Most 
guys are either flustered by me, or think I'm just a piece of meat to be 
fucked.'

'You're hardly just to be fucked.' I replied. She looked at me for a moment, 
and I could only wonder at what thoughts churned behind her meaningful gaze.

She slipped off a shoe and I felt her toes inside my pant leg above my boot. 
'It's okay if you like them' she touched my hand lightly as she said this, 
'I take care of myself because I like being admired. Especially by men like 
you.' That musical laugh again.

'Your toes are cold' I stated flatly. She stopped and withdrew her hand, 
confused by my statement. In her experience I'm probably the first guy to 
not melt or suggest sex at such an advance, I thought.

'I thought you'd like it. I thought you'd warm them for me.' her confidence 
slowly surfacing again. I wondered if it ever truly left her. 'I'd like 
that. But?' I knelt beside our table and took her foot in my hand, carefully 
rubbing and massaging it in my warm palms. '?Something like this might be 
more appropriate.' I then released her foot and sat back down, casually, 
leaving her foot dangling, unattended, as though not worthy of my touch. 
Several of the customers and some of the staff looked in our direction and 
mumbled comments to each other.

Rachel's jaw dropped. Only a little, but I saw it. She held me in that 
scrutinizing gaze once more.

She paid our bill over my objections, pointing out that logically it was the 
least she could do for my kindness. She bought some bottled water, and we 
returned to the car.

My beautiful Rachel was silent for several kilometers, and I knew she was 
puzzling over the events in the café. Had any man, holding her, ever 
casually let go like that?

She opened her water and drank. Before I knew what she was doing, she 
searched for a cup holder, and opened the glovebox. 'No, don't open-'

I was too late. Drawings and writings spilled out into her lap. Her eyes 
widened at the images and she immediately replaced the cap on her water, 
flipping through the papers.

Drawing after drawing of women in various stages of impalement, roasting, 
and consumption.

I pulled over.

'It's okay,' I said. 'I'm not planning to hurt you. I'll drive you back to 
the café if you like, or you can get out here.'

Rachel was silent, her gorgeous eyes drinking in my artwork with a neutral 
expression. She picked up a story and read a paragraph from the middle, 
gasping slightly.

'I don't believe it' she finally spoke. I knew I couldn't explain my Woman 
Eating compulsion to her, so I prepared to sit and hear what a monster I was 
in silence.

Rachel leaned over and kissed me. It became a passionate kiss.

'What are the odds of two men named Manntis?' she exclaimed. 'I should have 
guessed immediately. I'm sorry I only sent you that one email.'

'Rachel - from the forum?' I could hear my voice squeak slightly from the 
shock, but was too overcome to care. We both looked at each other for a 
moment then laughed.

Difficult as it was in my tiny sports car, she leaned against the passenger 
door, tucked her legs up, and placed her now bare feet on my lap. She raised 
her right foot before my face and I placed a hand under her calf to support 
it. Her leg was, as I suspected, sleek yet very muscular.

'In the real world I quite enjoy having my toes sucked. You often mention 
eating women in your stories, and the feet are usually first.' She stated 
boldly, 'I think we both want the same thing right now. My feet in your 
mouth.'

An offer I'd be foolish to refuse. God, her skin felt good on my tongue. I 
licked and sucked each toe, separately and in groups, for what seemed a far 
too short length of time. She closed her eyes and let out the quietest of 
contented sighs?

It was fantastic; 'eating' a girl I'd shared fantasies with over the 
internet. The fact that our mutual desire surfaced so quickly, an almost 
instant lust, made the moment that much sweeter.

Soon we were kissing again; her fingers playing over my firm chest in 
contrast to the squeezing my hands were giving her breasts. Her small hands 
opened the front of my pants and I felt her caressing my quickly expanding 
member.

I watched eagerly as her lips moved from my mouth to over my now swollen 
cockhead. She turned her head slightly sideways, allowing me to see her 
face. 'Manntis?' she whispered, then her lips parted and engulfed me.

It had been less than two hours since this girl who'd refused to fellate her 
male friend had entered my life. Experiencing her now, I pitied him for 
missing out on her talents.

I knew my muscular body and boyish looks got me my share of desire-filled 
glances from women, but I knew Rachel's lustful passion far exceeded sexual 
desire. I knew she fantasized about woman eating as much as I did.

Her head bobbed faster and faster, her lips and tongue expertly applying 
pressure and suction. I knew the tight confines of my car made this 
physically demanding for her and didn't bother holding back. The familiar 
throbbing, the tightening of my scrotum, was followed by the wonderful 
sensation of her greedily swallowing every drop.

She continued sucking me until satisfied I'd 'fed' her all I could. I 
hungrily brought her mouth to mine and kissed her deeply once more. I tasted 
my own cum, sure, but if a man expects a woman to swallow it, why should he 
shy away from its taste?

She sat back in her seat. Other than heavier than normal breathing and bare 
feet, she was fully clothed and immaculately groomed. Her hair had only 
slightly tussled throughout our encounter! She stared straight ahead as 
though embarrassed at her sudden lust. I closed my pants, pulled back onto 
the highway, and drove on.

I was wondering how to restart conversation when I felt her hand rest on my 
thigh. I remained quiet, and her hand remained there.

She broke the silence first. 'Manntis? I want it to be you.'

I raised my brows, wanting clarification. 'Beg pardon?' I saw her turn to me 
out of the corner of my eye as I drove.

'I want you to eat me. I want you to drive me to wherever it is you're 
going, I want you to roast my body, and I want you to eat my flesh.'

I must have spent longer with the images flashing through my mind than I 
thought, because her hand squeezed my thing. Hard.

'Will you? Or is it just fantasy for you?'

I couldn't believe I found my voice. 'You're only twenty two with a life 
ahead of you. Why would you want me to roast you?' What was I saying? Why 
argue this opportunity?

'Why do you want to eat girlflesh? You know it's socially unacceptable, even 
when your girls are willing.'

'Touché.' I did mention she was intelligent.

'The same compulsion makes me want to be eaten. Here.' She took my right 
hand from the steering wheel and placed it on the warmth between her legs. 
Even through jeans, I could feel her dampness.

'Don't take this the wrong way. I mean, your penis felt great in my mouth. 
But this' she pressed my fingers against the soaked jean fabric, 'has 
nothing to do with what just happened and everything to do with what I hope 
you'll do. Look at these!' She held up my drawings.

'I can't look, I'm driving' I argued feebly. Shut up, dummy! Look how 
delicious she is!

'You want to cook and eat a woman. I want to be that woman!' She curled up, 
placing her bare feet on the dash. 'You've had these in your mouth already' 
Rachel wiggled her toes. 'Now picture them brown, crisp, and steaming.'

I barely kept the car on the road.

'Okay.' I finally stated. 'I've wanted to eat you ever since your first 
email anyhow. I just had to be sure. As I told you online, I prefer women 
who want to be eaten.'

She smiled out of habit, sensing victory. But we'd both won.

It was getting dark as we entered town and we sought out an out of the way 
motel. I entered the office alone to check in, and snuck Rachel into the 
room.

Perfect. It had a kitchenette.

So close to her fantasy, Rachel locked the door behind us with a wild gleam 
in her eye. I immediately swept her into my arms and held her tight as we 
kissed a slow, lingering kiss of long time lovers. Her hands undid my pants 
again, then just as quickly undid hers. I let mine drop to the floor and 
stepped out of them. Grace and seduction no longer mattered. Rachel knew I 
was going to cook her that night, and that's all that mattered. I squatted 
in front of her and took her waistband in my hands, easing her tight jeans 
over her womanly hips. I kissed her flat belly, then slid her pants off.

Her legs, long, lean, tanned, and firm, made my mouth water. Rachel had worn 
no underwear and I kissed her naked sex, feeling her tremble. I knew she 
wanted this but could tell she was fighting her natural survival instincts. 
My tongue darted in and tasted her juices. As I sucked her clit I felt a 
twinge of regret. Rachel was so brilliant, so beautiful, so full of life 
that I wanted to keep her as my lover, my friend, forever. But I knew her 
attraction to me was driven by the darkness within me, that part of me that 
was about to kill her.

I stood, my erection jutting from my body, and held her tight. She wrapped 
her exquisite legs around my waist and I took her, standing, her body 
pressed between the door and me. I thrust deeply into her and felt her 
biting my shoulder to keep from crying out. I had only signed myself into 
the guest register, of course, and her quick mind knew to keep her presence 
as secret as possible.

I felt her shudder as the first waves of orgasm rippled through her body, 
her strong legs crushing me against her. Soon those legs would be a feast 
for my hungry teeth, but right now they were an extension of her sexy body, 
pulling my deep within.

She collapsed against me as I came inside her; any fear of impregnation an 
academic argument at best. She'd be dead before my sperm reached that far 
into her.

I released her, a sheen of sweat binding us together for a split moment in 
time, and then she took my hand. The two of us, now completely naked, walked 
into the bathroom. It wasn't the ideal setting, but it would minimize 
cleanup and she understood that.

I sat on the edge of the tub, my back against cold tile. She sat on my lap, 
knowing, once again as though she could read my thoughts. Her feet joined 
mine in the tub as she leaned her head back on my shoulder, stretching her 
lovely neck.

I ran my hands up Rachel's flat belly and cupped her perfect breasts. The 
room was very warm, and there was no question as to why her nipples were as 
hard as they were. I let them peek out between my fingers as I gently 
kneaded her breasts. She took my rapidly hardening cock in her hand once 
more and inserted it into
her, sliding as far along its length as our position would allow. She raised 
her arms behind her head and locked her fingers together. Her pose reminded 
me both of a bathing beauty and a surrendering, battle weary soldier.

'However you're going to snuff me' she whispered, 'make it quick.'

I kissed the side of her throat and held her close. Again, I wanted her 
forever. Marry me, Rachel, my mind screamed. Let this body grow old with me! 
But I tasted her on my lips and knew I had to eat her. Knew I wanted to eat 
her.

I kissed along the length of her creamy throat, feeling her pulse beneath 
the smooth skin. I began to suck as though I were a teen again, trying to 
mark my conquest. Her back arched in anticipation.

She gasped as I bit into her. Hot blood squirted forth, instantly coating my 
lower face with crimson, coppery warmth. She held her hands locked tight 
behind her head, struggling against the urge to pull away, to preserve 
herself.

Her life spilled out between us, flowing rapidly between our bodies, into 
the tub basin, and down the drain. I could feel her heart beat momentarily 
faster. I could only guess she was imagining how I was about to cook her 
flesh and devour her. This only quickened her demise, though, as she 
continued to bleed in my arms.

Her mouth reached my ear. With ebbing strength, she whispered to me. ' I 
love you. I love you for doing this for me' her last word became a sigh, and 
her body slackened in my arms. She had succumbed to shock and was 
unconscious.

I carefully laid her in the tub, keeping her head higher than the rest of 
her. The meat had to drain, of course, but I didn't want to get her angelic 
face bloody. I hurriedly unpacked my bayonet, resembling a large bowie 
knife, and set to work.

With excitement tinged with regret I severed her head and set it on the 
opposite ledge, carefully balancing it so the neck would continue to drain. 
Her eyes were partly open and I left them as such, on the off chance she 
could still see and would witness her meat partially rendered. I had read 
somewhere that a decapitated head survives for two to four minutes, and in 
rare cases as much as twenty! Could she see this? Could she witness the 
fulfillment of her dark desires? I'd never know.

I set about rendering her body into smaller, more manageable pieces. In my 
fantasies I'd roasted perfect bodies like this over slow-baking coals, 
preserving the full form until final consumption, but I had only a small 
motel oven and had to work fast.

As each section of limb or torso was separated, I set it gently in the tub 
to drain fully. Once my gory work was complete I set her head gently in the 
sink, pulled the shower curtain shut, and washed both of us clean under the 
spray of water.

The roasting pan so thoughtfully provided by the motel held enough water to 
cook her meat without loss of moisture. The steam replaced melted fats as 
she roasted, filling my small motel suite with the most appetizing aroma. I 
cooked as much of her at a time as the oven would allow so I could take it 
with me in the morning without fear of my Rachel spoiling.

As the second batch of Rachel began it's culinary transition, I tasted her 
cooked meat for the first time.

Thank you, Rachel. Your feet are delicious.

* * * *