Two Hearts Beat Fast
When Another Suddenly Stops
About a month after I lost my job, I started to smell something unusual in my apartment— rotten, organic, a diverse mixture, and I figured it was coming from my ceiling.
I asked my neighbor, Caitlyn, if she had smelled it too and she did. I called the landlord several times, and he basically told me there was nothing he could do about a random smell in my apartment.
I stayed in that apartment for weeks, opening windows, installing those fucking Febreze plug-ins, doing everything I could to mask and remedy the smell. It was definitely a breach of the warranty of habitability, but my landlord wasn’t doing jack shit. Luckily my lease was ending in a few months, and I could get the hell out of dodge.
It gets worse though.
One day, it’s not just a smell anymore. I wake up, and there is literally a giant stain on my ceiling and IT IS DRIPPING onto the floor. I call my landlord and basically threaten to sue him if he doesn’t figure out why my apartment and life is slowly turning into the slow beginnings of a Blumhouse film.
I’m guessing you guys have already figured out what they found.
Apparently, the dude above me had been dead since the smell started and when they found his lifeless body, it was liquefying. That’s right everyone, I was inhaling dead guy for a month and his body was leaking through my ceiling. Honestly, aside from the horrid smell, I was thrilled to hear the news.
Toby, the dead guy above me, was a die hard Libtard. He loved Justin Trudeau, masked-up 24/7 and had just gotten his 4th booster. What was terrible few weeks had just turned into one of the best days of my life!
How do I know this? Well, Toby could never shut-up about it all. He’d be on the elevator bragging about how he had just gotten more experimental MRNA into his body and yelling at everyone to wear a mask. He would divulge private personal information all the time to every passerby, letting them know he was voting Libtard in the next election, how he had just went into massive debt buying an EV along with his eternal hatred for oil and gas companies. He was a professional loser and worked at a non-profit start-up that helped black people find excuses not to succeed.
At first (before I knew he'd died) I thought the stench was Toby just up to his normal, unusual self: Maybe planting a bio-diverse ecosystem in his apartment, or inviting Syrian refugees to stay and live with him, indefinitely.
It turns out, Toby couldn’t afford his electric and heating bills because energy prices are so high right now, had massive amounts of credit card debt and was suffering from strange and sudden blood clots. He apparently committed suicide via an overdose of SSRIs and had been listing to a podcast titled, “How To Commit Suicide: A Guide For Leftists”.
It was a 'complete guide to killing yourself' for Leftists, Socialist pieces-of-shit from what I’ve heard. Pretty informative, practical, witty and hilarious.
After hearing about all of this, I couldn’t help but be giddy. Another one had bit the dust, too bad it wasn’t Justin Trudeau.
I sent a demand letter to the landlord shortly after that. I didn’t want out of my lease right then because I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Plus, Toby was now dead: A cause to celebrate throughout the complex for sure.
I just wanted him to paint everything, replace the carpet and anything else that any fluids touched. Basically get the smell of failure out of my apartment.
I had productive blue-collar guys replacing my stuff the next day while my landlord put me up in a hotel.
All’s well that ends well, yeah?
Well, it turns out that the landlord was stiffing(not fucking, hopefully) my neighbor Caitlyn on painting her walls as well. She may not have had any fluid leaking through her ceiling, but the smell had seeped into her walls and it was pretty bad. She asked me the day I returned to my apartment if I would help her out in talking with the landlord, and I agreed to cover it pro boner…I mean bono.
Caitlyn was honestly always so nice to me, if not a little bit loud on occasion. Genuinely just a good neighbor and I knew she didn’t have a lot of spare cash—after all, she is a woman— so I just decided to do it for free with the hope and fantasy of maybe getting a blowjob out of it, or some penetrative sex via her vaginal cavity.
What is a lawyer who has nothing to do all day because he lost his job?
Answer: A landlord’s worst nightmare.
I sent a demand letter in the same fashion I had earlier, only on Caitlyn’s behalf.
The next day, she was getting her apartment refinished as well.
I honestly didn’t expect anything in return. Just trying to be a good person for once in my life, and of course bust a much needed nut.
You spend enough years at a giant law firm defending the “bad guys” enough, and you develop sort of a complex…for fairly attractive, desperate women in times of need.
Well, the day Caitlyn returned, I heard a knock on my door around 7 P.M. I looked through the peephole and saw Caitlyn and opened the door. She looked really cute, in an effortless way. Caitlyn was about 5’6 with brown hair, hazel eyes, and a tan complexion.
She is white, which is important. She wore a t-shirt tucked into her tight jeans and some black flats. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and her face was made up.
“Hey!” Caitlyn said with a smile. “Can I come in?”
“Sure!” I said. “How is your apartment?” I asked as she walked in.
“It’s great. Really. Thank you so much! I honestly don’t know what I would have done without your help.” She reached behind her and pulled out an envelope from her back pocket filled with cash. When I saw the money, I instantly refused to even count it.
“I can’t accept this, Caitlyn.”
“I won’t take no for an answer.” She replied.
“Truly, I am doing just fine. The whole reason I went to law school was to help people—money was just a side benefit. I should be thanking you for helping me remember that.” I told her to keep the money and spend it by helping someone else.
“Well if you won’t take my money, will you let me give you something else?”
“Really, Caitlyn, I don’t need anything.” I said, half lying to her face as the semen in my balls began to percolate.
“How about dinner?” She said, way too nonchalantly.
I laughed. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me. Let me take you to dinner?” she asked again.
I was caught off guard. “I mean, yeah, that sounds like fun. But then debt repaid, yeah?”
“Great! It’s a date. Meet you at The Barricade tomorrow night?” She said.
“Uh, yeah sounds . . . great.”
Caitlyn pecked my cheek and then left.
When I arrived at the restaurant, Caitlyn was already there. She picked a pretty swanky place and I wore a collared shirt and some slacks. Caitlyn on the other hand wore a full-blown dress. It was white in a halter-top design with a rather low-cut. The V-neckline dipped down enough to show off plenty of cleavage: If I had to guess—B cups, and perky. Did I mention Caitlyn was in her early Twenties? From what I had remembered she had just finished post-secondary at U of T for nursing. Such a fertile and gorgeous young woman, no tattoos or face piercings— I could probably fuck her in the ass and still get her pregnant.
Anyways, back to the restaurant.
It [her dress that evening] was backless and also showed off a little bit of side boob.
It flared at the waist before hugging to her butt and ended just above her knees.
I was woefully underdressed when I took my seat at the table opposite her.
“You look stunning,” I said, taking my seat. “I hope I didn’t have you waiting too long for me.”
A waiter came by with a cosmopolitan for her.
“Good choice,” I said, before ordering a whiskey neat.
“Thanks, it’s my go-to.” She smiled, taking a sip.
My drink returned and we toasted to the dead guy (commie fuck) who used to live in the apartment above us, and to our landlord. Our conversation evolved quite naturally: We both talked about how great it was to hear about Toby’s sudden death. It turned out that Caitlyn also hates Libtards just as much as I do and that she too had slept well the other night, post hearing the news.
We then indulged one another through our own fantasies about how we would kill and assassinate Justin Trudeau and the various methods that could be employed. We further discussed how such an event would likely result in the nation suffering from a collective orgasm.
The conversation turned us both on (sexually), in a deep and meaningful way. I never knew Caitlyn was so creative, imaginative and passionate about the various ways one could go about just slitting Justin Trudeau's throat, as one example. Not to mention the art of the bullet and what magic could happen if a high caliber round should rip through Justin's chest cavity at 500 yards, resulting in a blood filled canvas behind him.
I listened to her entire life story. She was 8 years younger than me, 23, and had went to school in the U.S originally. She was Christian but didn’t attend church. She attended the University of Toronto on a scholarship for undergrad.. She had no plans of returning to Ohio, where she was did a stint while working at a local Hooter's. Her field wasn’t so different from mine. We both try to help people and have sex with our clients or superiors in order to get ahead. I just argue for a living. She's a woman, so naturally we clicked. Helps that she has nice tits, too.
We talked about how I used to play baseball, then moved back home to go to law school. We avoided talking about exes. She was, unsurprisingly, a Leafs and Jays fan, but sadly cheered on the Reds over the Braves.
We lost track of time. We had eaten dinner and had downed two more drinks each. I motioned the waiter for the check, and he brought it to me. As I reached out to grab it, Caitlyn snatched it mid-air and put her card in.
“I don’t think so, mister.” She then returned the check to the waiter over my feigned protest.
“This has been great, Caitlyn. You good to head home?” It turns out we both walked. The restaurant wasn’t far from our apartments.
We finished our drinks and walked back home.
Arriving at her door, we did the typical “I had a nice time tonight,” thing even though I wasn’t even really sure if it was actually a date or not. It felt like one.
“Would you . . . like to come in? Maybe show you my tie collection?” I asked.
“Yes!” She practically yelled.
I must have made a decent impression.
The door wasn’t even closed when our mouths met. It was a slow burn, very intimate.
“I don’t usually do this,” Caitlyn said, breaking our kiss." It's just, I can't believe someone like Toby killed themselves, I've never been so aroused and hopeful in my entire life!"
In response, I pinned her against the freshly painted wall where some of Toby’s effluence had been wiped from existence, connected my lips again with hers. Caitlyn’s tongue tentatively began to explore my mouth, teasing my lips then my tongue.
My hands moved to Caitlyn’s ample firm ass, then to her thigh, lifting one leg up and wrapping it around my back, pressing us even closer. Caitlyn’s hand went from my face to my chest, sliding down all the way to my crotch, where she could feel quite clearly what she had done to me— made me stiff, like Toby’s body.
I kissed her neck.
“Oh God,” she whimpered, pushing my head into her neck with her other hand, enticing me to suck even harder. I was surprised her hands hadn’t made me cum in my pants yet.
Caitlyn continued to moan as I sucked on her neck, and I made sure she felt every spasm of my cock in her hand.
Without warning, Caitlyn took control. She pushed me against the opposite wall.
She looked at me hungrily, and then dropped to her knees on the new carpet, covered through insurance. Thanks, Toby.
I began unbuttoning my shirt while she struggled with my belt. Ten seconds later my shirt and pants were on the floor, and I was naked except for my briefs, but soon those were gone too.
Caitlyn was soon face to face with cock. She stared at it for a second, and then looked up as her right hand reached up, slowly wrapped it around my shaft, feeling it for the first time. She knew just how to hold it, nice and tight. She hovered above it and drooled a good amount of spit onto the head, then she looked back up at me as she began to spread it all over.
“Fuck you’re hot.” I groaned.
“You like that?” She smiled up at me, stroking with a steady, deliberate pace.
“Fuck yes,” I managed.
She gave me more of her spit, so I could really hear her hands working my rod.
Caitlyn then leaned forward and began kissing my tip, then the rest of my dick.
“You don’t usually do this either, right?” I chuckled.
“Never.” She said, “Especially not this.” I watched as my neighbor dipped her head down and licked a trail from my balls to the head of my cock, then opened her mouth in an “O” shape, and took me into her mouth, keeping her eyes on me as far down as she could.
“Your eyes are fucking beautiful.” I groaned.
Caitlyn’s mouth vacuum sealed around my girth, slowly taking me deep and then almost pulling off before going deep again. In that moment, I couldn’t help but think about Toby’s lifeless body in the morgue. My dick became rapidly stiff, even more so.
The sensation of her gently sucking was almost indescribable, just like the joy felt when you’ve heard your Libtard neighbor had just killed himself due to the unbearable stress incurred through a lifetime of poor choices and actions.
I felt pre-cum ooze out of my dick into Caitlyn’s eager mouth.
She moaned against my cock and began to bob eagerly, a fresh coat of saliva trailing along my shaft with each bob of her head. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her as she took me inch by inch until she was mere centimeters from the base. She tried to get all of me by bobbing deep on my shift, making a loud “gluck-gluck” sound from my cock filling her throat. Most likely the same chocking sound Toby made during his last moments on earth when his organs failed him.
She made one final push and took the last bit of my cock in her mouth.
I’m not sure how she could breathe like that, but she held it there, mascara running down her face like a prom queen crying after getting her ass pounded in by the top jock de jure.
“Fucking amazing,” I groaned, complimenting her skill.
She pulled back quickly, gagging on her way out. Just like Toby.
Caitlyn’s saliva shimmered in the light of the room, and strings of it still connected me to her mouth. I watched the strands disconnect and fall onto Caitlyn’s white halter top dress, forming a darker wet spot.
“Fuck my face,, She said, looking up at me.
This woman was something else. At that moment I had a sudden craving for Hooter's food; deep fried pickles and a Samuel Adams Boston lager.
I reached for and grabbed the base of her head and began controlling her movements onto my cock. I wasn’t going to force her too deep, because I’m quite certain I didn’t want to explain to any authorities about a woman choking to death mid-fellatio. Plus, the world still needed women like Caitlyn. Toby, not so much. It’s a better place now.
It felt phenomenal. I was rapidly fucking my neighbor’s face, pistoning my dick in and out of her perfect little mouth. She gagged a little but reached around and grabbed my ass to steady herself.
“Fuck, your mouth feels so good. You want me to cum?” I called, knowing she wouldn’t be able to properly respond.
I took that as a yes. My cock was throbbing inside of her mouth, I was so close. I let go of her head.
“Make me cum then!” I ordered, with my arms in the air spread like Moses trying to part the waters.
Caitlyn tightened the seal of her lips around my cock and began trying to milk the orgasm out of me—like she needed it, like my cum was the magic elixir. She was bobbing her head impossibly fast on my cock, it was like a blur.
That was it. “Fuuuuccckkk,” I yelled out, and my cock released its load. Jet after jet of hot semen filled my hot neighbor’s mouth. I withdrew, and a strand of baby batter leaked out of Caitlyn’s mouth.
“Oh my god,” I said. Both of us were quiet for a few minutes, as we panted for air. My cock went limp, and Caitlyn kissed the tip. She had swallowed the whole thing absent the strand hanging to her chin.
And that is how I met my new girlfriend, Caitlyn.
How are things now between Caitlyn and I?
Well, since that day I am pleased to tell you guys that we finally went on our second date: It was to Toby's funeral.
The service was amazing. While people were still paying their last respects, Caitlyn and I snuck off to the mausoleum outside, made out, and then she sucked my cock again.
I came in her mouth. She swallowed.
I felt like buying a house and marrying her right then and there.
But, you know what they say, "Don't make any big or brash decisions after a major life event or sudden death of someone you knew."
It was like somehow, Toby's sudden passing acted as fertilizer to the world around us, causing net positive stimulation to the surrounding environment. Toby did love the the whole "green" energy thing. I can't help but be positive about it all, in that Toby (a commie) finally did something useful with his body: He fed it back to the earth and eliminated his carbon footprint.
Amazing things happen when Libtards suddenly kick their air addiction.
Life happens. Growth happens. Just look at me and Caitlyn. Without Toby taking a dirt nap, we probably wouldn't've gotten the motivation to have done what we did.
I probably wouldn't have been able to shoot all that cum in and around her beautiful face and mouth that day. Maybe one day, I just may shoot it into her eager pussy, unprotected.
We will see!
Maybe if Justin Trudeau gets justifiably killed in self-defense of this country. Then, will I cum deep inside Caitlyn and smash that cervix with the spray of a hundred men.
Yours Truly Horny,
A Self-Defense Lawyer