Armin Weiss' first posts on the Cannibal Café forum under the pseudonym 'Franky', dated November 2001—eight months after he killed Bernd Jürgen Brandes after the two met on a different cannibal forum

di! leon is just so cocky all the time.

he has this air of confidence surrounding him, a smug expression on his face whenever you look.

he knows when you’re staring, when you’re growing horny just at the sight of him doing the most mediocre shit.. and he just oozes satisfaction.

always teasing you, putting on this blissfully unaware act, pretending to be oblivious to how you’re practically drooling over him.

he forces you to spell it out for him, makes you physically beg for him to stuff you full, tell him how needy you are, show him..

and he’ll practically edge you, touching you barely in the places you need him most, whispering sweet praises in your ear ‘nd getting you all worked up just to rip away that sweet release when you reach it.

his whole cocky act is hot. gets you going, makes you a lil dumb sometimes… but you do have needs.

and so, when you’ve had enough of his relentless torture and that goddamn smirk on his lips, you flip the switch

he’d be a little tipsy (i mean it’s di!leon he’s always tipsy) and you’re both just sat in the living room doing nothing..

and he just looks so delicious. his hair is a little tousled from where he’d been running his hand through it tiredly, and his legs are spread so wide and it’s a little unfair that he looks so good effortlessly

so, of course, you grow a little needy. your eyes are wandering over his muscles that are very much visible through his loose t-shirt, how it frames his biceps and sticks to his slutty waist.. his eyes are closed and he’s leaning his head back on the cushions, and his adams apple is just so suckable and the whole of his neck is practically screaming your name.

you’re clenching your thighs a little, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and feeling ur stomach churn.

you’re on autopilot, you don’t even realise you’re leaning in until ur placing delicate kisses along the exposed skin of his neck. he startles a little at the unexpected feeling, head rolling forward a little and eyes blinking open to watch you.

and he’s already smiling to himself, muttering a smooth, “you alright baby?”

and god, you don’t know what it is but your cunt is already clenching around nothing and you can feel your slick. you don’t know if you can hold out for the night, put up with his methods.

so you just stay quiet, swinging a leg over his lap so that you’re straddling him, and you just leave little marks as you slowly move up to his jawline.

one of his arms has moved to lazily hold your hip, the other is draped along the back of the couch. you need him bad.

and he’s already getting turned on by this. how could he not? you just looked so cute when you were this desperate, and all for him? made his heart melt, and his dick hard.

it’s almost funny how you can already feel his semi below you, and you resist the urge to roll your crotch against it. not yet. you’d planned this meticulously, you’d get him all hot and bothered, then leave him high nd dry, just like he did to you so many times before.

by now, you’re kissing the corner of his lips. he’s nuzzling his face closer, and both your eyes are fluttering shut when your lips brush. his lips are surprisingly soft, no matter how many times you feel them against yours or press your fingertips to them, it’s always a little unexpected.

you slot your lips against his in a closed-mouth kiss, just a fleeting one really, before you pull away. one of his hands reaches up and holds you by the back of your hair, pulling you back in gently. you kiss him again, and again, and again, and pretty soon your tongues are tangled in a slow, languid dance.

and everything is so quiet except for the lewd sound of your lips rolling together, and the light sounds that escape the both of you.

you feel him fully hard below you now, and his touches are becoming tighter and more intense.

one of your hands moves to hold the back of the couch for stability, and the other is tangled in his hair as you give an experimental grind of your hips.

his reaction is immediate; it’s obvious he wasn’t expecting it. he fucking moans outright, the hand thats holding your hip grips tighter, shooting a light pinch of pain up your side.

you keep your lips against his when you do it again, this time a little more confidently, and he has to pull away to catch his breath. he stares up at you accusingly, like he wants to stop you but he can’t, he looks both pained and confused.

you don’t give him a chance to speak, because if you hear the deep rasp of his voice, you fear you’d give in to your desires instantly and forfeit your body to him; let him torture you for hours. but not this time, you’re so desperate for him that you just need to take what you want.

you surge back forward, your lips meeting roughly with a little clash of teeth. your hips seem to be already moving on their own accord; grinding back and forth over his bulge. you feel the heat of him pressing against you, you can fucking feel when he twitches a little and the rough material of his jeans pressing against your clothed cunt makes you almost spiral.

you’re pretty sure you’re so wet that he can feel it as well, you wouldn’t be surprised if it had leaked through all layers of clothing that separated you and was drenching his cock right now.

he can’t help but pull away, his breath a little ragged and his voice strained, “baby, fuck, what’re you doing..”

you don’t give him an answer. you just roll your hips down harder, and his mouth is gaping wider in a silent moan. his other hand moves to hold your other hip, and his grip tightens, as if he wants to move you off or flip you over. you just grab hold of his wrists, sliding his hands up so that they’re cupping your clothed tits. he groans, unable to stop himself from indulging, already groping them.

it’s obvious he doesn’t really want you to stop, because he very obviously overpowers you a thousandfold with his strength, hell with just a strong thrust of his hips he could send you toppling to the ground. but he doesn’t.

your breath is hitching when you let go of him, letting him keep his hands on your chest. you move to hold the arm of the couch, and his knee for stability. you lean back a bit, and with this angle both your crotches are perfectly pressed against each other. “want you to cum like this..”

and he’s losing it, head rolling back as he tries to stop his eyes from closing, wanting to watch you. he could stop this in a second, switch the roles, put you in your place, but he’s enjoying this. maybe a little too much.

and he could feel your drenched pussy, if he focused enough he could feel the fucking outline. the way your pressing so hard against him is making him fucking twitch and leak like crazy, and it’s almost painful how hard he is in the confines of his boxers & pants.

he’s sure his tip is a flushed pink, all shiny and wet with his pre. how was he so worked up over a little dry humping? why was he getting even fucking harder at the prospect of soiling his boxers with his cum?

it didn’t matter, because he was already close. he’d feel more embarrassed if he didn’t feel so damn good, the hungry look in your eye made him shudder slightly. he bit his lip harshly as he tried to not buck his hips. he looked down, and the languid roll of your hips, seeing the damp spot on your crotch was driving him fucking mad.

his mouth opened as he released little pants, becoming almost panicked because of how good it was. you were looking down at him so sexily, and this whole position made him dizzy.

“fuck… oh fuck, baby, gonna make me… i’m gonna… fuhhhhckkk, i’m cumming—”

and he’s sure it would’ve been one of the best fucking orgasms of his life, if it weren’t for you lifting your hips at the last minute.

his cock is twitching uncontrollably, and he couldn’t help but release one spurt of cum before you pulled away.

he lets out a groan that sounds awfully whiny, eyes glaring up at you. you just pout down at him with faux sympathy, moving your cunt away when he bucks his hips in search of your heat.

he’s grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of his sticky boxers, and how hard he is, and how close he is to just squirming and whimpering for you like that rookie would’ve all those years ago.

and you’re the smug one this time, finally knowing what it’s like to not be on the receiving end, and you have to admit you understand why he enjoys this so much.

once you’re sure he won’t cum instantly at the contact, you move your hips back down, pressing your needy cunt back against him. you relish in the sigh he breathes, both of relief and desperation.

excitement was curling in your stomach, at the thought that you could get him all whiny beneath you, to see the extent you could bring him to. the promise that you could put him in his place.

you knew one thing for certain, no matter how soaked or hot your pussy got, you’d put off your own pleasure for his. (eventually).