Staler and the Staled Ep. 06

My heart had been racing for a solid hour and she had, once again, sensed my presence and had masturbated for my pleasure. She then walked out of sight back into the darkness of her apartment and, although her performance had seemed to have ended, my focus continued from my station against the tree outside her apartment. I watched her living room window for another hour before sussing that there would be nothing more for me tonight.

As I gathered myself and started to walk away, from inside her living room, her curtains were pulled closed. I stopped in my tracks and watched some more. Within another minute a pair of hands reached through the center gap between the curtains and taped a piece of paper against the inside of her window. On the paper in red letters (lipstick?) was smeared "2D17". Again, this was obviously done for me, but what in the world was it supposed to be? An address somewhere? A hotel room number? A lock combination? A chess piece move?

I was puzzled, dumbfounded, and amazed at what this woman was doing to me. She had me right where she wanted me. I was not about to do anything but dive into this swirling pool of intrigue – completely immersing myself in her game. After another 15 minutes I finally moved off in the direction of my own apartment across town – my mind thrashing around in one direction after another playing out various possible scenarios in my head.

I paid my cab fare and approached the lobby of my apartment building. Suddenly a synapse gap in my brain closed and I stopped dead in my tracks. Beads of sweat immediately emerged on my forehead as I stood there and recognized the meaning. I began to panic at the thought of what the note on her window meant. It had become clear to me and I felt exposed to this increasingly obsessed woman in ways I could only begin to understand. This was a cryptic note with a reference that only I could understand. Only I could get it. She had written this so that I would know that she had me. "2D17" was my work office cubette number. She wanted me to know that she had me in her sights—no matter where I happened to be. With her note, she was, in essence, saying to me, "and I am watching YOU".

It was useless to spend any mental efforts trying to figure this out, but I couldn't not think about it. How did she know where I worked and how did she know my cubette number? The building has a security desk and the elevators and the door to the office have an electric key card lock. My office cubette is not near a window, so ... I just couldn't understand how she'd found me. She was good. She was very, very good. I felt another chill run down my back and I was sweating.

My head was on a swivel scanning in all directions as I walked down the hallway toward the door to my apartment. There was a piece of paper on the floor in front of my door. Part of me wanted to ignore it and simply walk inside. Of course, I could not do that. I could not believe how a random piece of paper lying on the floor could drive such a feeling into me – almost a terrifying feeling. I reached down, picked up the paper, and found that it was simply an advertisement. My pulse had been spiking, but now I was able to settle myself down a bit.

I have to admit that upon entering my apartment I did a bit of a slow search of my premises, checking rooms, closets, doorways, as I had a creepy feeling that there may be someone else there with me. All of a sudden, I realized that my mystery woman could not have been inside with me, as I would have been able to smell her. Every time I had been close to her, her earthy perfume had been pervasive. In the department store, in the alley, at the cemetery – she always had the same intoxicating scent. I found that my mind was able to conjure up a memory of her fragrance. I let that memory linger a moment before I regained my faculties.

Satisfied that I was alone, my night at home became more benign. Sleep did not come easily, however, as my mind continued to race and I could not get comfortable in my own bed. At the same time, I was actively admiring that woman. Her sexuality was supreme, as was her ability to ensnare me. Lusting after her was intoxicating, but was becoming an increasingly risky proposition. She was in my psyche and was the absolute object of my desires. I imagined another encounter with her ...

I am at a shopping mall and I catch a glimpse of her walking a ways in front of me. I quicken my walking pace to close the gap between us and settle in 15 yards behind her. Her black hair is beautiful and I can smell the earthy scent that wafts from her.

I then get a sense that she might know that I am there following her, as she had glanced around and may have caught sight of my pursuit for a second or two. She then abruptly turned and walked into a high-end lingerie store.

Now, suspecting that she knows that I am following her, I become aware that she may have set this up as a real test. Am I interested in her at all? Am I intimidated by the environment of a lingerie and loungewear store? Do I now follow her inside and pretend I am browsing the lace and satin teddys (when I am really looking for a "per chance" encounter and an opportunity to flirt and introduce myself)?

Well, the answer is, YES! Into the store I go –"after the fox"! Upon entering I notice that she has been watching to see if I might follow her in. Even though she wears dark sunglasses and has a cool aloof look, her expression shows that she fully expected me to do so.

In a lingerie store there is not much that a man would feel comfortable browsing, that is besides her. I am definitely keen to be browsing her! I also cannot get over the hypnotizing fragrance that she wears. What is it? It is strong and arousing. Can it be that, beyond her perfume, what I am sensing is ... her? Her own odor? The addictive power of her scent is startling to me.

Before I know it, she has made her way over to the section that I am browsing and now takes charge of the situation. She holds a black satin full length slip up against her body and looks at me and starts the interaction, "I'm a size 2. Do you think this will be too loose on me?" Trying to stay cool I respond with, "No. I think you'll be perfect in it." She then says, "So how about you? What are you looking for?" I say, "The woman I am shopping for is really out of my league, so I want to show her that I realize and admire her sexuality. I am really taking a chance, here – making a bold move." She then moves quite close to me and says, "I can help you, if you'd allow me to." My heart and my loins jump at this invitation. "She's about your size." I stammer a bit, as this woman is really affecting me. Holy shit.

Pretty soon we are strolling together all over the store and she has gathered up a number of filmy, lacy, and stretchy items in her arms. "Now to model them for you.", she says as she heads for the changing room. I am trying my best not to "lose my cool", but I am now erect and this is becoming too hot to handle. I discretely rearrange myself and wait for her to emerge wearing something amazingly sensual.

The door opens and she indicates to me that, from a modesty standpoint, she doesn't want to walk out into the store wearing what she has on. So she asks for me to come into the changing area with her. Within a heartbeat she has pulled me inside the changing room and I am there, a couple inches away from this beautiful stranger. The small changing room smells like her. It smells like ... sex. She is wearing a black lace body suit that clings to every surface on her body. The fabric is a stretchy black lace that covers some areas and shows through in others. She looks wonderful in it. She is long and lithe and the suit stretches all the way down along her smooth long legs to her toes. She looks at me and asks a leading question, "Is this what you were searching for? Does this do anything for you?"

My answer to her question was to take her face in my hands and pull her lips against mine. Our kiss was electric and she grabbed me by the hair to make sure I was going nowhere. My hands found her beautiful small breasts (perfect breasts) and fondled them eagerly. With one hand she continued to hang onto the hair on the back of my head and with the other found my belt buckle. She then deftly undid my slacks and within seconds she had them down around my ankles. Things were happening very fast and so I focused my attention on her core. My hands dropped down and cupped her sex feeling the wetness that was weeping from her pussy and through her lace body suit. I found the opening in the crotch of her garment and my fingers penetrated and began exploring her sopping wet pussy.

She then pushed me away, grabbed the waistband on my briefs and slid them down, freeing my cock from its confinement. She then took me in both hands and backed me down into the side chair in the changing room. Facing me, she moved over top of my lap and lowered herself down onto the tip of my cock. She held her position there, took my cock and played it back and forth, teasing her labia and lubricating me with her slimy wet juices. She then eased herself down over me, enveloping my cock in her warm creamy sleeve of sex. It was all I could do to hold off orgasming instantly inside her warm slick pussy. She then began to pump herself slowly up and down the length of my swelling cock. At the end of her downstroke, she pushed herself all the way down, bottoming out. At the top, her labia fondled the tip of my cock before pressing down again in a compression stroke. As she did this she looked straight into my eyes – no expression, but absolute focus on my eyes.

My alarm clock cruelly made its awful early morning screech and I quickly silenced it. The time was 4:45am and I needed to get myself ready for my business day. I paused a few moments to take stock as I lingered there in bed. I had been sweating during my sleep and I found that I was lying in a wet patch of my own discharge. It had been a long time since I'd had a wet dream and this one was very fresh in my mind. This woman was affecting me in so many ways. I needed to take time to sort out all of these happenings and developments.

I picked up the phone and called in sick – I was not going in to the office that day. I had work to do.