I have watching her for some time now. Following her. I need to find out where she goes, what she's been doing and who she's with. The bitch!
She promised. Promised to love me; honour me and obey me. So how can this be right? How can she betray me like this - with him? I've seen her before with him of course - caught them together - but before it's always seemed so innocent, so natural. A Bar; a restaurant; the mall, his arm around her or holding hands as if they hadn't a care in the world. But this time it's different. I can see them through the window. The window of his home. The bitch!
It's dark now. I have to turn my coat collar up against the cold. A light drizzle begins to fall and dampen my hair. I burrow further into the shrubbery, powerful field glasses to my eyes as I study the drape less windows. They act as if they do nothing wrong, no sin being committed. They seem alone, unwashed dishes on the table to be left until morning, I suppose, as they curl up together on the sofa watching TV. I can just hear the muffled sounds from the television as the show continues.
His arm is draped around her shoulder, her head resting on his chest. She kicks off her shoes and puts stockinged feet up on the sofa. They kiss suddenly and cuddle closer. My blood boils as I watch her flagrant display of betrayal.
Another kiss, this time more passionate, somehow more urgent. His hand moves to the back of her head his fingers running through her long, black hair. I feel the rain sting my face as it persists, mingling with my falling tears as I watch them together.
I catch my breath almost choking as I see his hand move down and cup one of her breasts through the material of her white blouse. I see her office jacket thrown casually over the back of the sofa and suddenly realise that she has gone to him directly from her work. Her clothes are the same that she always wears to work and that I know so well: white silk blouse, black skirt and black jacket. I know that the stockings she is wearing will be "hold-ups" and am almost certain that her bra and panties will match each other.
Their embrace continues as his hand further explores her covered breast and begins to slowly undo the buttons at the front of her blouse. I want to scream out for him to stop. He should not be doing this with her. She should not be allowing it. She belongs to me; always has and always will!
The buttons of her blouse are open now and I find it increasingly more difficult to control by breathing. I have to be quiet. Nobody must know. Her bra is white lace, I can see it quite clearly. I can also see that she is becoming excited; her chest heaving and her lips clamped tightly to his. He moves suddenly, maybe for a better position and I get a clearer view. She leans forward and allows him to remove the blouse completely. He does so and at the same time releases the catch at the back of her bra and pulls it forward quickly. They both seem to laugh as the garment falls away and the smooth roundness of her naked breasts is exposed to my gaze - and to his! The bitch!
But the laughing is short lived. His hands begin to massage the firm orbs, gently pulling and rolling the cherry-red nipples between his fingers. Her mouth is open and her head lolls back against the sofa as she allows this obscene intrusion. I can see that she is breathing hard now that their kiss is broken. I watch as his head moves forward; down towards her trembling breasts. His mouth opens and she looks down to see a nipple slowly disappear between his masculine lips. Her own lips part in a silent gasp as he tongues and sucks the hard buds; teasing her, enticing her towards climax
