Climax!
Sandra has never had an orgasm. Not by herself, not with anyone else. A situation made all the worse by the fact that she's nearly a nymphomaniac with a penchant for public masturbation...constantly aroused, prone to masturbating in public toilets, or at the library...anywhere she can get away with it. As a crime scene photographer, she's even taken to wearing a little vibrator during work hours...and there's something about the blood, the bodies, that send a sick thrill through her. Not enough to get off, but enough extra frisson to feel good...real good.
So good that one night she goes back to the scene of the crime - and finds that the killer has too.
She sees the knife go in. The spurt of blood. The last gasp. Sandra stares into the face of death - and for the first time, she climaxes. It seems Sandra has found out what gets her off at long last.
It takes her down to her knees...and the killer, to her surprise, watches her. Takes her out for tea. It seems that they have a similar affliction. So begins an unlikely and unhealthy relationship...one bound up in blood, sex, and death.