Callie O'Donnell was not a beautiful woman; in fact, she could no longer be considered even pretty. Twenty years of marriage and parenting and life had taken its toll on her, so that when she faced her reflection now, she saw an overweight, middle aged woman who always looked tired. She began avoiding mirrors as much as possible and packed away the photo albums from younger years, the ones with the photographs of a vivacious girl who had not lacked for admirers.
Every day was much like the one before. She and her husband, Steven, lived within a comfortable but boring routine. She was sure he no longer found her attractive and their waning sex life was all the proof she needed. Even the little acts of affection, a kiss on the cheek, a pat on the ass, were mere memories. With the kids grown and gone, the focus on childrearing was gone from their lives and there didn't seem to be anything new to take its place. They worked, they ate, and they slept their way through days at a time without saying anything of interest to one another. Late at night when it was quiet and she couldn't sleep, Callie wondered if this was all there were to life and then reminded herself to be grateful for what she had. "Things could be worse," she told herself often.
She kept her discontent to herself; her friends and family would have been surprised to learn she was unhappy. Most of her life, she had proclaimed herself to be an incurable optimist and rarely admitted, even to herself, that it was no longer a true statement. In fact, many times during the wee hours of yet another sleepless night, her depression was almost suffocating in its heaviness.
Sleepwalking through life as she was, Callie was totally unaware of being watched. While putting groceries in her car, picking up the dry cleaning, walking to her mailbox, eyes followed her with interest from a nondescript van idling nearby. Eyes that saw her moving through her house late at night, saw her sitting alone in her rocking chair in the dark living room.
"You should be asleep, Callie," he murmured to himself. "Why do you not sleep, liebchen?' Walking stealthily through the woods back to his vehicle, he dropped the night vision glasses onto the passenger seat and pulled away, waiting to flip his headlights on until after turning the corner.
For weeks he watched and learned her routine, stalking his prey with infinite patience. He grew bolder in time and often followed her into the grocery store, held the door open for her at the post office, stood behind her in the elevator of her office building, blending into the background like an invisible man. At last, opportunity presented itself.
"Hey, Callie, how's it going?" asked the woman joining the small group in the elevator.
"Just fine, Cheryl. Same old, same old."
"How're Steve and the kids?"
"Great. I hear from the kids about once a month and they're both doing well. Steve is leaving Sunday for a three week business trip so I'll have the house to myself. Yippee!" Callie smiled, with a touch of irony. Who cared if Steve was gone, she'd barely notice the difference.
"Lucky you! No dinners to fix and the remote control all to yourself!" Cheryl joked as the two women left the elevator. Neither noticed the tall blonde man standing behind them and smiling to himself as he punched the "down" button.
Across town, Steve O'Donnell admired the firm cheeks of his secretary's ass as he pounded into her from behind. Just one of the perks of hiring the incompetent, he thought. Kelly would do anything to keep her well paying job, including being at the boss's sexual beck and call. Four or five times a week, she would find herself bent over the boss's desk or kneeling at his feet, sucking the cock dangling under his fifty year-old paunch.