She Wore a Yellow Dress

Stanley Pearson couldn’t believe his luck. It normally took days to find each victim, but this time, he’d been on the road less than an hour when he saw her. And what a delight she was!

Up ahead, walking on the side of the empty highway as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The morning sun shone through the thin yellow cotton, revealing the shape of her legs all the way to her hips.

Stan slowed and pulled up beside her in his rickety old truck. She stopped, turned, and peered in through the window with the most angelic smile. Stan’s heart skipped a beat at this vision of beauty. A sprinkle of freckles adorned her nose, and shapely pink lips formed the smile. She wore no makeup, and Stan approved. She didn’t need to, and he hated it when women dolled themselves up. Here was a young lass with natural, innocent beauty. He’d enjoy this one immensely, more than all the others combined, he reckoned.

“Where ya heading darlin’” Stan asked in the friendliest voice he could conjure.

She answered with an angel’s voice. Soft and lilting. “Oh, I’m just out enjoying this lovely morning we’ve been blessed with. Don’t you just love the way the sunlight sparkles through the leaves as it rises? It’s like a special little show, just for us.”

Stanley did not give two hoots about how the sunlight sparkled through the leaves. He loved how it shone right through her dress, though. Now that she was side on to him, he could easily make out the shape of her rather perky breasts. He was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra.

He tried his lake strategy with little confidence. Surely this delightful specimen would turn him down. Then he’d have to jump out of the truck and force her inside.

“There’s a lake about ten miles up the road. It looks great in the mornings. Reflects everything like glass, especially on a calm day like this. I’ll drive you up there if you like?”

“Oh, I would love that! Thank you!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. Shocked, and counting more of his fortunes, Stan leaned over and opened the door for his prey. She sat demurely, with no reaction to the filthy truck, as far as her facial expression revealed she could have been sitting in a limousine. She looked excited at the prospect of the picturesque lake.

The truck’s tires crunched on the gravel as Stan pulled away, and he couldn’t help stealing glances at his passenger. When she’d climbed on board, her dress had somehow got pushed up her legs and he could see creamy white thighs above her knees. It was a shame she clutched a purse in her lap, otherwise he just might have been able to see the outline of her panties. He grew hard in his jeans at the prospect of what was to come. The thought of ripping that dress off her and revealing her full beauty in all its glory while she screamed and thrashed under him made it difficult to concentrate on the driving.

“You’re such a kind man, Stanley,” she said as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. She rested her head on his shoulder and her closeness drove him wild. It did not occur to him that she somehow knew is name. His mind was overcome with the stimulation of her closeness. The touch of her lips, the smell of her faint lavender perfume. And when he glanced down, he could see right down the top of her dress. A gorgeous pair of smooth breasts glowed yellow, with pink nipples that matched her lips.

The truck rattled its way towards the lake and the girl sat back properly in her seat after a while. The sun shone even brighter now, right through the windshield, and warmed the truck until he noticed a thin sheen of perspiration on her forehead. “Its rather warm isn’t it?” she said primly, fanning herself with a hand. And to Stan’s further amazement, she reached down and pulled her dress the rest of the way to her hips.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “just trying to get cool.”

Stan nearly drove the truck off the shoulder and into a ditch. Her panties were white, and he could see a dark triangle of pubic hair through them. The road ahead was straight for a good mile, so he allowed himself a better look. Clearly, she did not seem to care.

“Oh, do you like my panties, Stan?” She asked coyly, “They’re a bit revealing sorry.”

Stan nodded, lost for words. He did not notice her right hand sneaking inside her purse.

The truck veered onto the shoulder again, and he righted it with a grunt. The girl did not seem to care.

“You’ve been such a nice man, Stan. Would you like to see my pussy?” she asked casually

Stan found some words. “Oh God, yes!” he blurted.

They were the last words Stanley Pearson ever spoke. The bullet crashed through his temple, blazing a path through his brain, and exited the other side, taking a good chunk of his skull with it. Blood and viscera were blasted against the side window.

The girl reached over and pulled the handbrake on, sending the truck into a skid that finished up on the shoulder in a plume of dust. She wiped the gun clean with a rag from the floor and put in Stan's right hand, closing his dead fingers around it.

Getting out of the truck, she dusted herself off and walked on towards the lake. It would be a good place to wash his blood from her dress.

She blew the dead man a kiss as she left. “Sorry Stan. No more pussy for you.”