Footsteps?
Peg sat upright in bed from a dead sleep. What was that noise? Had Peg only dreamed it? Pooch lay at the end of the bed and did not stir.
She rose from the bed and went to the bathroom to pee. She washed herself again, straightened her crotchless panties, checked the mirror to adjust the top of her sheer baby doll pajamas, and then rinsed her mouth with Scope.
On the way back to bed, Peg made sure the door to the basement was unlocked. Yep. Waiting.
Pooch still did not stir at the foot of the bed and snored. Peg propped herself on the pillows and listened to the wind. The large tree outside her window and just above her head brushed harshly against the glass, and Peg jumped.
"Ohhhh," she said, "this is a creepy night."
Then...yes, there it was again. Noise. Someone clicking keys to set a car alarm. The outside basement door opened slowly and Peg heard soft footsteps walking across the concrete floor downstairs. He was really here -- her Midnight Marauder -- just as he promised.
But she was supposed to be sound asleep! It was, after all, her greatest fantasy: that he would come to her house as she slept, and -- with a deftness, skill, and finesse like she had never known -- undress and slip quietly into her bed, to ply her with the passion and ardor of her greatest dreams... yet, not awaken her.