Staler and the Staled Ep. 05

I just froze. Trying my best to not move a muscle and stay behind the tree trunk as best I could, here in this dark cemetary. All I could see was the bouncing glow spot from her penlight. This woman that I had been following was now walking straight at me and I was desperate not to be seen by her. My heart was racing. If she caught a glimpse of me I did not know what would happen next – that would not be good. I just could not allow myself to be seen. She walked past and soon was walking away from me. She had not spotted me as she passed. I couldn't even dare to exhale my held breath, as I thought she'd hear the sound. When she was 50 feet past I snuck around the opposite side of the tree trunk and resumed my frozen posture. After a few minutes, I could no longer see her light. She had, indeed, left the cemetery.

My heartbeat finally started slowing from its blitzkrieg pace for the first time in what seemed to be 20 minutes, but there was no way I was leaving that graveyard. I HAD TO SEE THAT HEADSTONE. While watching her masturbate hard at that gravesite and above the body of whomever it was, I made a point to work out exactly where the headstone was located. I walked in complete darkness back 8 rows and then 4 headstones to the left and was standing at the grave of ... I couldn't read anything in the darkness. I got down on my knees and had my face close to the headstone and read, "Beauregard W. Culpepper, born Biloxi, MS 1898, died Alexandria, VA 1937". Who was this guy? What made my mystery woman so affected, standing here above his dusty remains? Affected? No, she was sexually dispensed. She was drawn here and she was turned inside out sexually. She put herself on her knees, yes, but was it all her doing? Was there something else at work, here? Who was this guy?

My next work day was unremarkable and I couldn't focus on much of anything after having witnessed the object of my obsession feverishly masturbating over the face of that departed stranger. That grave site was not some random spot that she had selected – it was of significance. It was a place of honor and she was certainly paying her respects. She had really "done herself in" during the act. She went at it (at him?) hard and with intent. Watching her sent shivers down my spine and stiffened my cock at the same time. This was getting creepier by the moment, but I had no thoughts of backing away from this. I was intrigued, stimulated, aroused. And eager to find out and witness more of her – more of ... THIS. I was not going home after my workday, tonight. I was on reconnaissance.

I arrived at her neighborhood and took up my spot against a tree across the street from her apartment block. The street lamps were on and her apartment was dark inside. Her curtains were mostly drawn, allowing for about a 5 foot opening to her darkened subterranean living room. It was a warmish evening and I had my eBook with me so as to pass the time and not look too suspicious (Really? This had to look strange to an onlooker – it had to look just like what it was, actually!) My position was not right in front of any building in particular and I was actually facing a small section of a park that provided a bit of a green space for the neighborhood.

I was patient. The darkness in her apartment hadn't changed for what seemed to be an hour. Then I thought I saw the edge of one of her curtains move slightly. As I watched closely, it quickly returned to its at rest state. Had I imagined this, hoping that there would be something to see, here? Again nothing else was changing state. My eyes swept from the living room to the other windows and to the entry lobby, but I saw nothing.

Then I focused on the living room window, once again. The dark space between the curtains was made even darker by the contrasting brightness of the curtains reflecting the street lamp light. To the non-focused eye, there was nothing to see there. Just the same, I detected movement inside. I remembered the first time that I watched her, reclining on her leather sofa in her living room as she performed for me. I peered intently into the dark opening, shifting my position to eliminate the street lamps reflection on the window glass that further contaminated my view.

I had seen movement inside. I caught a glimpse of a shape moving in the living room. In my mind, I conjured a body in a white satin camisole entering the room and sting down on the sofa. I shifted my position, now nervously, trying my best to adjust my line of sight so as to cut through the darkness. I was turning into a squirming desperate being, needing to see more – to see HER. The lechery of it all never entered my mind. I was obsessed and in a perfect position, if only ...

The television came on. I now had a faint pale blue glow inside the room. She was there, watching the monitor and flipping through channels. I was correct in my initial thought of her white satin camisole. I could see her plainly, but I was a ways away and could not make out any details of her face or expression – just the image of a body was all that I could get from here. Dare I pick up and move closer? To the other side of the street? Right in front of her window? I decided to let things play out a bit before I escalated.

Then the television was switched off and the room went dark, once again. My frustration level spiked as I now considered my next move. I decided to cross the street and pick out a tree trunk near the front of her building to reset my base camp. Taking up my new location and settling in, I held my eBook up as if to be reading (in the dark? What a ruse!) It wasn't very long after that that another light cam on in the apartment and she was in the kitchen. She was apparently searching for something and was standing with her back facing me. The soft waves of her black hair fell down across her shoulders in a lovely contrast to the stark white shiny satin of her camisole. The hem of her garment fell halfway down her small and shapely ass. She hadn't struck this pose very long before she found what she was seeking. She held a single red rose in her hand, turned quickly and moved towards the living room, turning out the light. From my new post, I had a better view into the darkness of her living room and I found that I could barely see her shape in the white satin as she reclined obscured against the white leather sofa. "Here we go, now!", I thought to myself.

She, then got up from the sofa and came over to the curtains and opened the right hand one just a bit. This let a small stream of the street light come into her Living room and fall upon the sofa – in position "A"! When she regained her spot on the sofa, I had no doubt that she had done this intentionally for me. Again, how did she know I was outside? Was I that obvious that she saw me here and went into "performance mode"? In any case, I was now rooted to this spot and refocused on her lithe body in the darkness.

It was all I could do to not touch myself out there on the street as I watched her writhe and jerk through several waves of masturbation. It was intoxicating to watch her. I was able to barely able to watch her form in the sliver of reflected street light that she had allowed enter her lair. She was animated and shaking her hair as she rose and fell with the waves inside her. Her one hand was exploring her insides and her other was rubbing her clit with fever. Her one hand then reached up and grabbed a handful of her soft dark wavy hair and began pulling on it jerking her head back and forth as she masturbated. She must have been on a heavenly verge of ecstasy when she reached for the rose.

She took the rose and worked its flower into her pussy, once again resuming her hair-jerking and clit rubbing frenzy. Her body was spasming and both of her hands immediately dropped to her vagina stuffed with the rose petals. Her pelvis rose up in orgasm and then she began to subside. She slid the rose out of her crevice swept the hair from her face and rose from the sofa.

I was a wreck, having watched her sweet writhings. I wished I could have heard her moans and cries. I longed to be able to take in her scent and the smell of her sex. My frustration actually added to the sexual feelings that were overloading my system. God, I wanted her. Then she walked pointedly to the window and pressed herself up against it – for me. This was clearly done for my benefit and she held this pose for a good 30 seconds. She made sure that she pressed her moist pussy up against the glass so as to smear a bit of herself for my pleasure. She then took the rose and touched the glass with the petals of the flower. She streaked the inside of the window surface with the flower and left a trail of her juices as she did so. She had drenched the rose petals. Then I noticed that she was actually writing something on the inside of her window. She then moved away from the window and out of sight.

I could make out letters that she had left behind, dripping in her own cum juices, "DAVID".