Chapter 11
Tacy
My stalker has texted me every day for a week. And this is terrible to admit, but I’ve almost grown accustomed to reading his messages. Am I sick? Maybe a little. But I also know my alarm system is working, and I have cameras all around my house. Sol’s life insurance money just came in, and I purchased the upgraded system. Twenty-four-seven surveillance and an alarm system that will trip if any window or door is even breathed on.
But back to my stalker. It’s oddly comforting talking to him. I know I shouldn’t return his texts. Any normal person would freak out and block the number. Possibly even report it to the police. But I’m not normal. I haven’t been for a long time. I have abandonment issues because my father left when I was still in diapers. And I have kinks that reflect the physical and psychological trauma I went through as a teen. When I was sixteen, I joined a local cult. The High Priest was an eighteen-year-old who initiated me into his coven…through sex. I never told anyone what I endured during my time in the cult, but when my mom moved us across the country when I turned seventeen, I was able to escape. I suffered abuse at this man’s hands. He forced me to do things most teens have never even heard of. Yes, it was terrifying and terrible and traumatizing. But when I turned twenty, I realized I had this deep, twisted desire to relive some of those moments and fuck my way through the pain. But to do it with someone I love. To do it with Sol. It was scary and perverted…but cathartic. Therapeutic, even. Judge me, if you want.
My traumatic experiences also inspired me to become a nurse. To help other people in pain. Maybe even help people out of bad situations. Once I helped a man escape a human trafficking ring. I will forever be grateful I had him as a patient and that he confided in me. No one should be forced to do things they don’t want to do…and especially not get paid for it.
It’s Friday night, I’ve worked a long shift, the kids are in bed and I’m ready to relax. I am alone. My mother and her boyfriend went home a few days after the cameras were installed. She’s checked on me every day, which is sweet of her. But still…when the house is quiet, I remember I’m by myself. One day the kids will be gone, and I’ll truly be alone. I look at my phone, lying beside me on the couch. He hasn’t texted me today. I pick it up and look over the text thread between me and “Unknown”. Why hasn’t he texted me yet? Usually, he’s messaged by now. The guilt and shame of wanting my stalker to talk to me suddenly washes over me. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I flip through channels and land on a movie I’ve seen a million times. Somehow, it’s comforting to me to watch it again. It was one of Sol’s favorite movies – The Bourne Identity. I think secretly Sol thought he was a bad ass like Bourne.
An hour into the movie and my phone beeps. I pick it up and read the text:
“Hey, Princess. How are you today?”
Just casual as fuck. Like I’m his girlfriend and we’re just catching up. This guy is fucking nuts. I fight back a smile, remind myself I should be angry or at least cautious, and reply.
“Why do you keep texting me?”
I’m deflecting. Obviously. I know why he’s texting me. He’s obsessed with me.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Your beautiful face, your long hair, that fat ass and sexy body.”
“If you can’t stop thinking about me and you know where I live, why don’t you come over?”
Holy shit. I can’t believe I just asked my stalker to swing by my house for a fucking booty call. My heart speeds up and there’s a buzz in my stomach. My upper thighs burn. It’s just a test anyway. He’s not going to come over. And if he did, he wouldn’t get past the security system…unless I let him in.
UNKNOWN doesn’t respond for a few minutes, and somehow, I’m disappointed. I should’ve known it was all a catfishing trick. Then a PING breaks the silence…
“I’m outside.”
My breath catches in my throat. I sit up on full alert. My senses heighten. I jump up from the couch and rush over to the alarm module on the wall. It’s blinking green, which means all cameras are on and the alarm is set. No one is getting in without being recorded. Without triggering the alarm.
I hurry to the front window and peek out the blinds. The sidewalk in front of the house is empty, a single streetlamp casts an eerie golden glow over the front yard and driveway. No one is there. I turn and head to the back of the house. I peer through the kitchen curtain and lean far over the sink to get a good look at the back porch. A sensor flood light turns on at that exact moment, and I yelp. I expected to see him standing there, but again…there is no one. I wonder what set off the light.
I return to the living room and text him. “No, you’re not. Don’t play games with me.”
“I see you in the living room. You’re wearing a white T-shirt and sweatpants. Scrunchie socks. Your hair is in a messy bun and you’re wearing pink lip gloss.”
What the fuck? He is here! But how can he see what I’m wearing? All the blinds are closed and the curtains drawn. I spin around, looking for any window that might have a sliver of an opening for him to peek in. But everything seems locked up and covered.
I type furiously, “how the fuck do you know what I’m wearing? Where are you?”
“I’m out front. Come see,” he replies. So casual. So nonchalant. I’m sure he’s not even panting, or sweating, or panicking like I am. Although, he might be getting off to this. I can’t say that I’m not…
I pull my bun tighter at the top of my head, smooth out my shirt, and pull the cord to open the blinds. Scan the front yard from left to right and then…I freeze. There he is. A dark figure standing at the top of the driveway. Hidden in the shadows. But his silhouette is there. A large man, bulky in physique but obviously muscular, steps one foot into the light. I’m going to see my stalker’s face. But as soon as his entire body is bathed in yellow light and his face is illuminated…I draw back. He’s masked. The fucker won’t show me his face. He’s wearing a black hoodie, black sweatpants, black sneakers, and a fucking slasher mask. The hood is pulled up over his head, so I can’t even tell what color hair he has.
I grab my phone from my pocket.
“Hey, there. Fuck face. You said I could meet you.”
I keep my eyes glued to the masked villain out front. Who quickly recedes into the shadows and pulls his phone from his pocket. Now all I can see is his black silhouette and a lit-up phone screen. Fucker.
“I never said that,” he replies smugly.
“Yes, you did.”
“Look back at our conversation. You simply asked where I was. I told you outside.”
Fuck. He’s right. What do I say now?
“Why can’t you show me your face? And how did you know what I’m wearing?”
“In good time, Babydoll. And, as for what you’re wearing, I have my ways. If you want to find out, let’s play a little game.”
He wants to play a game. What’s new. He’s standing in my driveway, watching me, and wants to fuck around? Okay. Fine.
“What’s the game? Does it have to do with scary movies?” I snort as I type.
“This isn’t a scary movie. This is real life. I’ll answer every question you have, in exchange for one piece of clothing.”
“That’s easy,” I text back. “I have plenty of clothes in my closet I can give you.”
“No, no. You misunderstand. I don’t want your clothes. I want you to take off your clothes. In front of me. Right now.”
“In the window? My neighbors could be watching.”
“Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t. Half the fun is not knowing.”
I’m admittedly wet by the prospect and want to get some real answers out of this guy. My mind flashes to Sol. He would tell me I’m crazy to trust this person. But he’s not here. So…
“Fine,” I text back. “What’s your name?”
“I can’t tell you until you strip,” he replies.
I huff and roll my eyes. Of course he would make me do it first. I look down at what I’m wearing. I pull the scrunchie out, allowing my chocolatey hair to fall gently on my shoulders.
“You can call me Aris.”
“What’s your last name?”
“I’m waiting…” he replies.
“For what?”
“For you to take something off.”
“That’s not fair! I asked you your name. You just told me your first name.”
“You didn’t specify. So, this is your second question. Stay dressed and get no answer.”
I peer down again and pull off my sock. Ha! He’s not getting me naked. I hold it up and press it against the window.
“King.”
What a strange name. Yet beautiful. Aris King.
“Have you ever stalked someone before, or am I your first victim, Aris?” I remove my other sock and dangle it in the window.
“You’re my first and my last.”
What does that mean? Does he have to be so damn cryptic?
“Why me?”
“Tsk. Tsk. You forgot something.”
Fuck. He caught me. I thought I’d get away with it. I’ve run out of discreet clothing to remove. I run my hand over the bracelet Sol gave me for our tenth wedding anniversary.
DING.
“Not the bracelet. Keep that on. Jewelry doesn’t count, Babydoll.”
I grab the hem of my t-shirt and slide it over my head. Exposing my pink mesh bra beneath. I drop my T-shirt on the floor and stand in the window. Bared to the world. Half naked in front of my stalker. Nipples hard and straining against the delicate fabric.
I see his screen light up again. See movement as he answers.
“Because you’re the only one I want.”
My heart skips a beat. My clit throbs. I’m suddenly embarrassed of my nakedness. And that I’ve fallen for this psycho’s perversions. But…the truth is…I like it. I want more. So, I ask him another question. I’m conflicted, but in the best way.
“Will I ever get to see your face?”
I hit send and start sliding my sweatpants over my hips, slowly, deliberately. Biting my lip, I shimmy them to the floor and look through the window at his silhouette.
“Yes, but not tonight.”
I take off my pink panties, and the cool air hits me. My soaking wet thong now lies on the floor. I unclasp my bra with one hand and let that fall to the floor. I step forward.
“That’s two items,” he messages and steps forward into the light. That build. I can see his shoulders and biceps outlined under his hoodie. He’s a big dude. As big as Sol. He could easily overtake me in an alley.
“That means I get two questions,” I type.
A light goes on in the house across the street and I’m aware of the ridiculous situation I’ve put myself in. I need to wrap this up quickly. “Are you hard right now? And do you plan on hurting me?”
I watch as Aris reaches into the front of his pants and pulls out his cock. It’s fully erect. And leaning to the left a bit. It’s thick and bulging, and I can see a vein running up the side. The sight of it welcomes a gush out of my depths, and I squeeze my legs together to keep the juice from sliding down my legs or dripping onto the floor. Only Sol has ever had this effect on me.
He takes his cock in his hand and starts stroking it, slowly and confidently. The pressure is building and I’m aching for him.
“This answers your first question,” he strokes it faster. “And secondly, only if you want me to.”
I imagine myself clamping around his hard length. I run my hand over my breast and down my stomach, then slide my fingers into the slit between my legs. I’m so wet for him and my clit is pulsing. The thrill of being watched by my stalker and by potential neighbors makes me yearn for him even more. I drop my phone and grab my breast with my other hand, squeezing and pinching my nipple. I moan as I dip a finger into my pussy and slowly slide it in and out.
I stare at him, my masked admirer, as he massages his dick faster and faster. I continue to rub my clit, moaning, dipping my fingers in every so often, and the pressure is building. Warm tingles rush over me from the crown of my head to the bottoms of my feet as I release and explode into my own hand. I lean against the window, bracing myself, imagining him cumming at the same time. I peek through slit eyes to see my stalker retreat into the shadows. Oh, come on!
“Hey, you saw me cum, but you didn’t let me see you,” I text as I pull my pants back on and slam the blinds closed. “That’s not fair, Asshole.”
“That’s Daddy to you, Babydoll.”
I pull my t-shirt on and peek through the blinds just in time to see his shadow fade out of sight. I don’t even see his phone screen. He’s gone.
Way to cum and run.