Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction... Do not try this at home, or you'll end up in a very nasty prison facility.
Feedback is welcomed... Enjoy.
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It was late. A cool breeze blew in from the slightly opened bedroom window. Shania Twain grabs a towel from the rack and dries off her long brown hair.
"Oh goodness," Shania says, detecting a small v shaped patch of skin. Shania tightens the vanilla colored strap of her bathrobe and exits the bathroom.
"Downtime," Shania sighs, sliding inside the thick beige cover that covered her bed during the day. Her head hits the pillow and then her shoulders relax. Her eyes close and then open. She feels the string of her robe as it loosens and for a moment she's worried about her window. Thankfully, it's closed. Enough people lusted after her body, she didn't't need to give the neighbors a free peak.
Outside, Rosemarie looks at the autographed picture of her idle. She licks her lips, feels a tingle in her crotch. An image pops into her mind, real as anything. Rosemarie is squeezing Shania's tits from behind and they feel so soft in her tiny hands
"Fuck," Rosemarie whispers. Her eyes open and her mind refocuses on the task at hand. There's a dim light coming from the second floor window, the one in the center.
"Take what you want," Rosemarie whispers, tightening the grip on the black bag that she's holding in her left hand. She looks left and then right, and she sees the trees. They're swaying gently in the distance.
Rosemarie grips the black bag. She takes small baby steps towards the tiny concrete walkway, the one that leads to the front door. She looks at the wooden guard, the one that stands in the way of her destiny.
In truth, there was nothing to be afraid of. Shania had just come off the road and she never used the burglar alarm when she got off the road. Rosemarie had studied her subject well. She had read up on Shania's idiosyncrasies.
Rosemarie goes into her bag, pulls out a small pocket knife. It gleams in the darkness. Rosemarie looks around. She places the tip of the knife between the tumbler and the catch.
"Come on baby," she giggles, tongue protruding through her teeth. The lock pops quietly, the alarm remains silent. Rosemarie catches a glimpse of Shania's living room as the door opens.
"My lover has good taste," smiles Rosemarie, tiptoeing inside. She looks back over her shoulder and closes the front door ever so gently.
Shania stirs silently, tightening the grip on her blanket. She wished that she had closed the window. Her nipples were hard and were protruding through the fabric of her robe.
"I'm coming," purrs Rosemarie, walking towards the staircase. Rosemarie's heart races, her stomach tightens and then tingles.
"Take what you want," Rosemarie tells herself. She thinks about Shania and how much she wants to fuck her. Rosemarie remembers the video that she watched before she left the house. Shania was dressed up like a whore in a dominatrix suit. Her breasts were jiggling and overflowing.
Finally, Rosemarie reaches the top step. She feels her way around with the heel of her foot. She sighs, felt that tingle in her tummy again.
"Take what you want," Rosemarie tells herself, thinking of the picture in FHM. It was the one where Shania was decked out in a black leather top. It was the photo where Shania's perfect breasts were slightly exposed. Rosemarie remembers a moment that she had in the bathtub. She's trying to keep her fingers away from her clit, but the sight of Shania's breasts made that task impossible. The water is soapy and warm and no one is around. In the end, Rosemarie has an orgasm by herself. The only witness is Shania.
Rosemarie sees Shania's bedroom door. It's slightly ajar and a flash of dim light is slicing across the carpet.
Rosemarie feels the plush fabric beneath her feet. She thinks of all the things that she wants to do to Shania. Rosemarie is standing beside the door now, watching her prey. Shania is sleeping on her left side, facing the window.
"Showtime," giggles Rosemarie, gripping the black bag in her hand. She walks inside the bedroom, taking her place on the right side of the bed. She watches Shania, purring and contented and gripping her blanket. Rosemarie places the bag down beside her. She unbuckles the snaps and removes a pair of silver handcuffs.
Rosemarie takes a breath and leans on the mattress with both knees. Shania stirs as the mattress moved. Her eyes flutter and then she rolls towards Rosemarie.
Rosemarie's heart is racing. She sees a small patch of Shania's flesh when her bathrobe opens up.
"What the?..." Shania says. She's startled, her eyes are filled with fear. The drawstring of Shania's robe loosens. She feels the sting of the wind against her bare flesh.
