Such a Sweet Hurry

           When yours comes for you lad, you won't be thinking she's a straw witch. No, you'll have your mind on but one thing, and she will take your hand in hers and be in such a sweet hurry to take you to a private place. But when you reach to her, her thighs will be as smoke, her breasts no more than the wind passing, and it is only her lips you will find, with a snow taste to them, cold as pebbled snow, and with a quick and clever suck she takes your wind away, and your murderer's soul.

John D MacDonald
The Straw Witch
1964

from
Trap of solid gold blog