"Stalking" is not a word I like. It sounds -- bad. I really like the word "following". I'd been following Sandy for a year, now. Her name was Sandra and I knew she didn't like to be called Sandy, but that was who she was to me, Sandy. In the first six months she'd gone on one date. The guy must have been a real dud, because she hadn't gone out with him again. She had not gone on a date since then. I was looking forward to changing that.
During the first six months I'd established her pattern. She is so dependable and so regular. Monday through Friday she gets up at 5:45 and leaves for her office at 6:30. It's a 20 minute drive to the pool company she works for, so she's always 10 minutes early. She always gets home at 4:35. Tuesday evening she goes grocery shopping. Wednesday evening she goes to church. Other than church service Sunday morning, she stays home.
After about seven months I'd finally gotten into her home on the pretext of a service call for the water company. It had taken several months to put together everything necessary to pull off the deception. She sat trustingly in the living room while I 'investigated' the pressure problem in her bathroom. I put two miniature cameras in the bathroom and two more in her bedroom.
Friday morning I'd watched from my computer as she woke up, stretched and headed for the bathroom. Switching camera views, I held my breath as she tossed her nightie onto the floor and climbed into the shower. She's even more beautiful than I expected. Her tits are full and very firm, her stomach flat and her pussy is shaved smooth. I almost cum just watching her shower and dress. I've been enjoying that time every morning for nearly five months now.
For the next several days the evening had been very predictable. She'd come into the bedroom immediately when she got home from work and changed into jeans and a tee shirt. At 10:30 she comes back into the bedroom and undresses, pulls on the night gown and goes to bed. I enjoy watching her dress and undress, and it is exciting to watch her when she goes into the bathroom to pee.
Thursday evening is the first time I find something to get really excited about. It's 11:00 before she comes into the bedroom and it's obvious that something is different. She's breathing hard and she practically tears her clothes off. Falling on the bed she squeezes her tits for a few minutes before she starts rubbing her cunt. Several minutes later she grabs a vibrator from the compartment on her headboard. She pushes it deep into her pussy and works it in and out for almost five minutes before she cums. She lays on her back, legs spread, the vibrator still sticking out of her cunt for several minutes as she catches her breath. Then she puts the vibrator away and pulls on the gown and goes to sleep.
It's a weekly ritual. Thursday, and only Thursday, she masturbates. And watching her, so do I. She cums and so do I.
It takes me several months to figure out how to hack into her cable account and find her viewing log. I go to the log for the past Thursday and find that at 10:00 she's switched to channel 154. It's the first time all week she's viewed anything other than standard network. Opening a channel viewing guide I find the 10:00 slot for that channel is a cop show. I guess I'll have to watch it this week. It's hard to imagine a cop show getting anyone that excited, but I don't have any other explanation.
For the next several days I enjoy watching Sandy shower and dress in the mornings. Thursday evening at 10 I turn my TV to channel 154. According to the guide, detectives Mondue and Berst solve a murder. As I watch the show I learn that Mondue is Karen Mondue, a petite redhead with a very pretty face and an incredible body. Her partner, Berst, is Hank Berst. He's a young looking guy with an athletic build and an engaging smile.
They start putting the pieces together very quickly and at the half hour mark have figured out that the next door neighbor killed the teen age girl because she wouldn't fuck him. The scene in the interrogation room fills nearly ten minutes as Karen sets the guy up and Hank pushes him into confessing. Pretty much your normal cop show, but it's running nearly 20 minutes ahead of schedule.
And then I get the answer to my question. Instead of a celebration drink at the local bar, Hank and Karen head for her apartment.
They barely get the door shut before he has his tongue in her mouth and his hand on her tit. Within minutes he has her clothes off and she's pulling his shirt off. Somehow they manage to keep the camera from showing her tits, and then the camera is showing his back, just slightly below his waist. And you can see the top of her head moving back and forth. You never see his cock, or her mouth on it, but it's real obvious. After several minutes, he groans and pushes her away. And then the camera moves to her back. You can see just a hint of a gorgeously firm tit and the top of his head moving ever so slightly as he is very plainly eating her cunt. For several minutes she moans and groans and begs him for more. Finally they get into the bed. He's on top, with the sheet pulled up almost to his waist. As he slowly moves up and down you get an occasional glance of the side of her tit. And then they both cum. Over and over they cum. As the camera fades they're laying side by side talking about how much it turns them on to solve crimes.
The only thing that turns me on more than the near porn on the TV is the knowledge of how it's affecting Sandy a few blocks away and knowing what I'm going to see on my computer in a few minutes. As I expected she's in her bedroom, stripping in only minutes. As she masturbates, so do I. As she cums, so do I. Now I have my answer. Now I need to figure out how to use it.
That Sunday I go to Sandy's church for the first time. Before I leave the wonderful people of the hospitality team have fixed me up with an information package and a plastic sleeved name tag that tells everyone that I'm Pat. Within a few weeks Sandy is greeting me by name as if we'd known each other for years.
I continue to study her cable viewing log looking for the last piece of the puzzle. It's almost a year from the very first time that I followed her that I realize that she never misses a chance to watch a show about modern art. The timing couldn't be better. A small, relatively unknown, art house in a town 30 miles away, is having an exhibition of several contemporary artists. The show is running for a week.
That Sunday, after church, I manage to turn a pleasant "Hello" into a short discussion about the exhibit. As I expected, Sandy is very interested. Since Thursday is the only evening that I'm not 'busy' she agrees to join me for a trip to the art gallery, even though it will mean missing her favorite TV show.
We have a very enjoyable evening at the gallery. I let her do most of the talking, acting as though I really understand and care about the intricacies of modern art. As we're driving home, I mention the cop show I recently started watching on Thursday evenings. It will be over by the time we get back to town, but I've set my DVR to record it. I see Sandy's eyes light up and I ask if she'd like to stop at my place and watch it with me. She hesitates for just a moment before accepting the invitation.
