Stalker Ch 04

Declan's accident settlement had achieved a windfall, if such could be stated as such, but his back was never quite right after the accident despite many rounds of physical therapy and chiropractic manipulations. So, the insurance payout was more recompence than a jackpot. His achy back reminded him each day that money couldn't buy happiness even as his mental powers and wealth afforded him ample opportunities to try.

He was always looking for ways to manage and grow his wealth; real estate was a beneficial vehicle. As he casually cruised the city's suburban neighborhoods, he came upon a Realtor 'Sale by Owner' yard sign. It was a modest abode but something about the address piqued his interest. A little internet research revealed its owner; he was surprised to find it was the truck driver who had been at fault in his accident. A pretty young lady wearing around-the-house work duds was weeding the front yard flower garden. Leaned over, her cutoff jeans made her partly-cover ass a delightful sight.

He recalled her from the settlement conference, the young wife of the DUI truck driver. She had been a fact witness at her husband's DUI court case and had naively botched her testimony. The jury had condemned her hooligan husband to five years for his third DUI offense.

Declan pulled his car into the driveway; she looked his way and dropped her weeding gloves to fix her loose red hair and smooth her tee-shirt over her medium breasts, hastening to make a more presentable self, before approaching her potential home sale visitor.

Declan reached out and mentally clouded her mind regarding his true past identity.

"Hi, there. I saw your sign. Is the house still 'For Sale'?"

"Yes, sir. I'm Heather Smith, the owner. Would you like to take a look at it?"

Declan more liked looking at the young woman whose early adult life's hopes and dreams had been dashed by her no-good spouse. He saw the low tension in her face and heard her wavering voice, fearful of another fleeting prospect of a sale.

"Sure. I'll follow you. I'm Declan, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you, sir. Follow me; let's start inside."

The strawberry redhead walked ahead, her cute ass rocking in the old jean cutoffs, short enough to show the skin crease between high thigh and low ass cheek. He felt a tingle in his balls at the sexy view. She climbed the front porch steps and opened the front door, ushering him inside. He continued to view her lithe physique as she led him through the downstairs, indicating the rooms, fixtures and features of her humble home.

She walked ahead, turning to point to something, a chance for Declan to get a sense of her tight bodied physique beneath the shorts and tee. His balls tingled a little more as the half-hour passed during the home tour.

They ended in the upstairs, the master bedroom, where he asked about the furniture.

"Yes, everything stays with the house."

Her funds had dwindled precipitously after her man had been jailed. She needed to downsize and stabilize her lifestyle. Any incentive for the sale was beneficial to her goal.

Declan didn't care about the real estate's contents or cost. He was just ready to fuck the vulnerable housewife and he projected that impulse into her mind.

Heather's eyes blinked and she took on a cute half smile. She felt a strong urge to make this potential buyer get a positive view of the property and ultimately execute a sale.

Her mind swam with bawdy scenes from the late-night TV shows her spouse had made her watch with him before bedtime. She felt a glow emanating from her pussy, spreading out across her body. And it had been a long 6-month 'dry spell' without a regular dose of fat cock in her cunt.

She smoothed a hand over the sheeted king size mattress while the other fiddled with the tee's collar near her bodice.

"Would you like to test it out; make sure it meets your expectations?"

Declan wasn't sure if she meant the bed, her body or both. It didn't matter. He saw her coyly smile and he nodded back. It was her time to do her best to convince him to buy the house. He gave her the go-ahead instruction.

'Entice me.'

She felt a sense of mischief and slowly swayed her hips in time with a remembered internal music. She kicked off her sandals and turned sideways; her hands clasped the hem of her tee-shirt and peeled it over her head. Her straight red hair fluffed and settled almost down to her waist, laying equally over her face, back and bra.

As her body continued its smooth swaying, her fingers unclipped the bra front catch and she slid it off her shoulders and down her arms, arching her spine to show her modest boobs in side view. Her pink nipples were hard conical points on her soft nubile tits. Righting again, she looked sideways, turning her head to peek at him across one shoulder, hair falls obscuring parts of her face, her eyes fixed on him, seeking affirmation. He was smiling at her initiative and gave another nod of approval for her to continue.

She looked down as her shorts and her fingers popped the waist button, pushing the zipper lower. She wiggled her hips as she peeled the ripped faded denims over her ass and let them fall down her legs. Pivoting front again, she reached for the white panties waistband but he stepped closer and halted her pussy reveal.

'Undress me first.'

She didn't hurry but didn't hesitate. He watched her unbutton his shirt; he assisted by removing that himself. She went for his belt and unclipped it, working the closure and zipper. Even before his pants slid down, she palmed the bulge in his boxers, cupping his cock and balls. Her curiosity was rewarded with the realization of a substantial package of man meat in her hand.

She felt the tingle in her moistening pussy. Her 'dry spell' might almost be over if she could seduce this strange man. She knelt and worked a little faster now to get him stripped down and induced to fuck her.

Declan sensed her haste but chose to draw things out with some oral stimulation.

'Suck me.'

Already kneeling, her lips kissed his tip as her hand held the long thick shaft. A tongue tickle on the tip and a little suction brought his knob inside. Another tongue tip tickle of the corona vee got a muscle jerk in her grip. She tried it again and was rewarded with the same reaction and Declan's low moan. She hoped she had learned enough from those late-night videos about giving a man this preferred pleasure.

He placed a hand on her scalp and pressed. She knew what that meant. She opened her throat and took him all the way down, past her tonsils and swallowed against his knob base. Her tongue swiped jitters on the part of his cock in her mouth. The moan from Declan was loud and clear. He must like what she was doing; the video examples must be right.

She felt a tug on her hair and the force pulled her mouth off his wet erection; it bobbed in front of her eyes.

'Get on the bed and spread your legs.'

Heather rose and backpedaled to the mattress edge, boosting her tight little ass aboard. A little heel-and-elbow crab-walk got her centered as he stood next to the bed. His hands gripped her panties and peeled them down and over her feet. Her reddish shaved pussy gash was glossy with feminine moisture. He leaned in and swiped his tongue from bottom to top, savoring the musky tang of cunt juice.

She jerked her hips and he used his hands to grip and elevate her ass cheeks for better access. He licked a few more times but needn't work too hard at the cunnilingus; she was clearly ready for sex. He left off the pre-coital preparations and climbed up her body. Hovering about her, he saw her impetuous expression as her body wiggled beneath him, anxious to be fucked by him. He leaned in and pressed her lips for a vaginal flavored kiss.

'Place me.'

Her hands brought his knob to her orifice and, with jiggles and wiggles, they cooperated in getting his fat cock embedded deep in her narrow channel. The strokes and thrusts were mutually facilitated until Heather's long endured dry spell concluded with a smashing orgasm and a flood of masculine seminal fluids in her womb. They stayed in bed for the remainder of the evening and night.

She got fucked twice more overnight: a doggy on the edge of the mattress and a cowgirl gallop while his aching back floated on comforting pillows.

By Saturday noon, Declan was bored with acquiescent sex. He tested the boundaries of his control by giving her the mandate to 'resist, struggle, but do not leave the house'. It was a raucous afternoon spent in 'chase me, chase me' scenarios while testing all the furniture in the house as pseudo-rape props and enablers. The rough and physical sex kept Declan primed and even he was amazed at the number of times he spewed in and on her.

Once in the md-afternoon, he captured her in a behind waist hold, pressing her naked butt against his tumescent erection. Her limbs flailed in his irresistible grasp. He bent her over the dining room table, a laminate topped piece from the typical showroom set favored by low budget young newlyweds.

But first some play discipline; he spanked her bottom: three hard slaps on each round cheek. Then some tapped kicks on her inner ankles. She understood and spread her legs, exposing her pink pussy, at just the right height to match his stance and facilitate the embedment of his erect cock. He took advantage of the pose.

He was leisurely stroking in and out of her cunt, one hand clasped on her side waist, the other pressing her neck down against the top.

There was a surprise interruption; the doorbell chimed its eight tone 'Big Ben' tune.

Declan froze deep inside Heather. He felt her body tense at the sound of imminent discovery; her cunt reflected the tension, clamping down on his embedded cock. He held her firmly as the doorbell chimed twice more. Entering her mind, he gave her calm thoughts as his hand passed across her head of fine hair like a trainer soothing a fidgety pet.

There was muffled conversation from outside the front door.

"I don't think anyone's home."

"But there's a car in the driveway; someone must be home."

"Maybe. I'll look through a window. I want to see what's inside."

Declan remembered that an upholstered chair was tipped over in the living room. And the rear window blinds of the house were open; the dining room where they were fucking was fully visible from outside.

He threw a quick thought to the man at the door, hoped and waited.

It worked.

"Now, dear. Don't do that. It's rude. And the neighbors might call the police. We'll come back another time."

"Okay, if you say so."

Footsteps faded from the front porch, car doors slammed, the motor of the earlier undetected vehicle started and the car tires crunched an exit from the driveway. Declan let out a held breath and felt Heather also détente her tension, her snug cunt losing its extra tightness on his prick.

He focused again on the interrupted sexual mission and reengaged his thrusts. As he pumped and bumped her body, Heather's plumped labia and clitoris chafed the edge of the wobbly tabletop. The mixture of the preceding fear factor and the rasping on her feminine sensitive areas brought her excited nerves to a roaring finish. She gripped the far side of the table and wailed out her joy at yet another Declan induced orgasm. The vibration of her body and the rhythmic clamping of her vaginal core set him off as well. He spewed himself again in mutual delight.

That evening, he mentally eased her fervent resistance and led the reluctant lass to the small backyard swimming pool for splashy foreplay and a wild return jaunt to the master bedroom ensuite for a bubbly bathtub fuck.

Sunday morning, while Declan was still sleeping, the redhead awoke before him, her pussy tingling with a newly reawakened and incessant need. She cuddled closer to his naked form. Listening to his soft snores, she carefully reached for his lax cock, fingering it gently.

She was feeling a growing degree of contentment; this mysterious man in her bed had thrilled and excited her over the last few days and nights. A man's care and concern for her pleasure was previously unknown to her. Her sex life before with her now incarcerated husband had been all about him... wham, bam, without even a 'thank you, ma'am'.

She hadn't known that she could achieve so many orgasms in such a few short days.

Her fingering was proving fruitful; his penis was gaining volume and his snores fading as he rose slowly from his deep slumber.

Declan's mind was losing connection with its REM dreams where it was mentally reliving the satisfaction of this weekend's multitude of ejaculations and whole-body orgasms. He was emerging into reality with a morning woody. One that seemed to be facilitated by someone else.

He opened his eyes to find the avid redhead's face staring back at him. She got closer to his ear and whispered a half-whimpered plea as her fingers became more active on his stiffening cock.

"More..."

Declan considered his condition. He had been engaged in almost continuous copulation with this young, vivacious housewife all weekend. Could he go another round now; had he refracted fast enough? He decided the only true answer would come from testing it out.

"Yes..." he vocalized, avoiding his typical mental interface.

He felt her body shiver with delight and then her arms and legs unfolded his body; her thighs opening to accommodate the sought after penetration of her body.

He poked and stroked her pussy, first with his fingers and then with his erection, eventually accomplishing her craving for 'more'.

The remaining Sunday day and night was a leisurely time of lounging, slow soft sex and rather passionate love making.

On Monday morning, having thereby consummated his revenge, and with an aching back and, surprisingly, a hard heart that had softened by her gentile manners and her ill-fated situation, he left her half naked in her invaded home after a final standing fuck near the front door.

He stepped to the door to make his exit, turning to take a final look at her. She had a gloomy look on her face, fingers intertwined in front of her unpantied pussy, her pokey nipples' prominent points tenting the silky translucent chemise. He sensed her thoughts.

'More...' she implored.

He conveyed to her the response he knew she wanted.

'Yes.... more... and soon...'

He closed the door behind him and faced it again from outside. He projected to her two final mental commands before turning away, entering his car and driving away.

First, she should look up McReady & Associates for a divorce consultation. He saw her as young and vivacious, a ripe man-pleasing woman too good to fritter away her prime years, pining for the return of her jailed deadbeat husband.

Second, he greedily instilled in her a yearning to indulge him, and only him, as the recurrent male visitor who spontaneously arrived on infrequent Friday nights. And left her days later feeling contented by the unwitting sexual extravaganza she had acted out all weekend.

And soon after this first sexually satisfying weekend, he anonymously paid off Heather's mortgage and funded a 6-figure trust in her name, staving off the foreclosure sale and keeping her in place and available to him, and only him, through the next year until she could get her wayward life back in order.

-----

It was Monday morning. Heather stood looking at the inside of her front door. She felt funny, an eerie half mindlessness, like waking from a daydream. She looked down; she was barefoot and dressed only in a filmy chemise. She felt a sticky glaze on her upper thighs and realized that she wasn't wearing any panties. White viscous secretions oozed from her pussy. She felt her body fatigued and whiffed the odors and dregs reminiscent of sweaty exercise. Her fingers discovered white crusty flakes: speckled clumps in her disheveled red hair.

Her last lucid memory before this moment was standing in this same spot in her foyer on Friday afternoon, looking at the door, waiting for... something. Other faint images were foggy at best. They seemed to be fleeting memories of the porn videos she had been made to watch by her husband before his incarceration; but it was her image there in place of the onscreen bawdy actresses.

And there was a dominating man, and snippets of lewd sexual acts: oral, vaginal, manual. In the recollections, she was delightfully squealing and moaning as his cum spewed into her cunt, on her tongue, on her face, in her hair and on her tits.

It was a strange feeling of déjà vu, as it had been for several Monday mornings over the past few months. Feeling tarnished and tawdry, she headed for her bedroom and bath, intent on cleaning and preening away the stickiness and smells of whatever she apparently had been up to all weekend.