Staler and the Staled

At a downtown department store, I am at the fragrance counter. Needing to replace my cologne, I wind up selecting my old favorite scent, Polo. Glancing up from time to time, I see a woman across the counter in the womens' section, sampling some fragrances, as well. She is tall with lustrous dark hair falling to her shoulders in soft waves. She wears a no-nonsense, fairly severely cut black dress—not a sexy piece, in itself. But she wears it for a purpose—her sensuality rises above it. She appears to be a few years younger than me, is not classically beautiful, but still very attractive and extremely sexy. She wears dark sunglasses, which enhances the mystery surrounding her.

During my time at the fragrance counter, we exchange glances. She doesn't smile, but whenever I raise my glance in her direction, she appears to be studying me. I am intrigued by this scenario and by her look. As I conclude my purchase, I find that she is staring at me, veiled behind her sunglasses. We hold our glance for quite a while, not smiling, and then she abruptly turns and walks away from the fragrance counter and back into the cosmetics section.

I decide to follow her and keep my distance a bit. She walks over to the lipsticks and looks through the various shades. I settle back around 40 yards away and fumble with my phone in order to not look too suspicious. She samples a few of the lipsticks on the back of her hand and is facing me, now. Behind her sunglasses, I cannot tell if she is staring in the mirror in front of her or at me to the side of it. Then she takes her sunglasses off and stares right at me. With no expression, she then takes one of the lipstick tubes and applies it to her lips. I absolutely believe she is doing this for me—to generate some stirring within me. She is certainly hitting the sweet spot with me. The lipstick tube pressing against her moist lips is an intoxicatingly sexual vision.

Continuing to watch her, I awkwardly shift my stance and posture—I am not able to remain calm throughout this. She is affecting me. I glance back at her and she purses her lips in a virtual kiss, making sure she has full coverage with the warm red lipstick that she's selected.

After making her purchase, she puts her sunglasses back on, pauses a second to glance in my direction, then turns, and walks out through the revolving doors and onto the street. Her expressionless and mysterious persona has intrigued me to the point that I feel I cannot resist following her to see where she goes next.

I settle in walking a half block behind her. She is walking deliberately, not turning around. I feel that she must know she has me "on the hook". She is a ways ahead of me, but her fragrance is heavy behind her. Is that pachoulli or some other earthy scent? In any case, I am enveloped in her sexy mystery and love where I am now. She pauses at the next corner and lights a cigarette. She glances back my way and then turns down the cross street and out of my view for a few moments. I hurry my pace a bit as I come to the end of this block, hoping that when I turn the corner, she will still be in sight.

My heart jumps as I turn the corner and see her half way up the block ahead. I can smell her scent trail and I continue to pursue her. I then see her take a piece of paper out of her purse, lean against the side of a building, and write something down. She then walks to the entrance to an apartment block and walks into the building. Once again, I hurry my pace, but lose her, as she's disappeared into the building and the door has locked behind her.

Then I notice a scrap of paper on the pavement of the entrance porch. It is an advertisement, but has the words, "PLEASE WATCH ME" scribbled on it. It appears to have been written in red lipstick. Putting the paper up to my face, I can smell her on the note—it smells like her earthy scent.

Dejectedly, I walk down the steps away from her building. I decide to just lean against a tree in front of the entrance and watch for any other signs of her. Several minutes go by and I, again, fiddle with my phone to calm my nerves. Lights turn on in several apartment windows. I scan them to see if she might be visible in one of them. After a few more minutes, the blinds in a lower level apartment draw open and there she is. I do not believe that she sees me outside at street level, as she turns away from the blinds quickly. From my perch against the tree, I am actually looking down into her apartment window. My view is of her living room and her white leather sofa.

I feel amazingly creepy and lecherous standing here, spying on this woman. Her note clearly asked for this, however. I will ablige as long as I feel there is nothing going on that is improper or threatening. With that in mind, I take a quick scan of my surroundings, looking for anyone else that might be around with bad intentions.

I see her emerge from an inner room to her living room. Standing, she reaches back and finds the zipper that unzips the back of her black dress. Slipping her arms out of the dress, she is wearing a leopard print bra. My insides stir a bit (I have always had a thing for sexy women wearing animal print anything!) and then churn as her dress falls to the floor and I see her matching panties. I unconsciously look around me to see if anyone else is around, but find that I am alone with this woman. She is giving me an immense sexual spark. I am not even sure that she is aware that I am outside.

Her body is wonderful. She is long and lithe. Her legs are slender in her black thigh high hose. She sits down on the sofa and peels off her thigh highs, slowly. She must know that I am there. This is a deliberate, slow, methodical grind and I am definitely the target of this. Her lovely black hair, leopard skin underclothes, and black hose are stunning against the smooth white leather of the sofa. She then leans back, spreads her legs open and applies her hands to herself, smoothly stroking her panties and rubbing her sweet sex underneath. Her expression then begins to change. She has been expressionless throughout the time that I have seen her, but now she is changing. Her face contorts a bit as she shows the mounting pleasure that is beginning to build within herself. I find that I absolutely love watching her and I, again, quickly look around me in a guilty way, hoping that I am the only person in the world observing this beautiful woman.

She then takes her hand and places her fingers in her mouth, tasting and moistening them. Then she slides her hand down inside her panties and she curls her fingers into herself. She works her fingers inside of herself and I can see her face. She is moaning and sighing softly to herself. Her fingering motions quicken and become more urgent and her face contortions show it all. Her off hand grips hard the sofa leather and her body begins to writhe and grind. Her face twists and then releases in a cleansing exhalation. I am feeling this myself. This woman is driving me to an amazing state and I am not even inside the same building with her!

She then gathers herself, stands up, looks out of the window at me, walks to the front door, opens it and leaves it cracked open just a portion of an inch. She then walks out of the room.

After a while, she returns to the door, opens it, and finds a note on the floor in front of her door. "XX East Shoreline Apt XX" was all it said. She walked to the front window, but I had left my post. I'd left her alone with her erotic thoughts.