I have this fantasy...
He's parked his van on the side of the old schoolhouse where the windows are still boarded up. She has only been living there for a week, and hasn't yet made it to the back of the house.
At the top of the hill, he'd cut the engine and allowed the van to coast silently up the driveway and into his position.
He knew she slept with an almost coma like intensity, and he probably could have driven up and not awoken her.
But he was leaving nothing to chance. He's planned every step of this with ruthless attention to detail, and he knows it will go perfectly according to plan.
He will be in control of her and the situation from the very beginning.
And now there is nothing left but to wait, a mere dozen fast strides from the spot where he has picked to take her. He is simply another ill defined shadow beneath the softly waving limbs of the gnarled, ancient plum tree.
He leans up against the rough bark, idly thinking it's a bit of a shame that he doesn't plan to take her in the house. He'd like to walk silently to the side of her bed, strip quickly then rip away the protection of the sheets and blankets and fall on her naked body.
He knows that she sleeps naked. She hates the constriction of clothing binding her sleeping body. She is a deep, hard sleeper. But she is also a restless one, her body moving and twisting all through the night.
A half smiles slips over his lips as he pictures standing over her, watching that desired body squirm and wriggle in the nocturne innocence of sleep.
His cock hardens a bit more at the salacious images he is allowing himself as he bides his time.
But he is aware that she is still, remnants of that innocent long ago child, afraid of the dark.
She will rarely admit it, and she pretends fiercely that she is not. It is a fear she owns that she shows to almost no one. And he knows that even if someone had been there, this walk she would make alone.
He knows that she is also just a little bit uneasy about living so deep country rural. Her nearest neighbors are at least a mile away. He knows that she was wondered, a time or two, in those midnight hours when things go bump in the night, would my loudest scream carry over a country mile? She has, after all, lived in the suburbs now for nearly half a lifetime.
He knows thus what she will feel when he takes her there under the stars, in the blackness of night that is only to be fou in deepest country.
His cock now rock hard, he snarls softly, wondering when the fuck she will come!
He has been waiting for well over two hours now. It is way beyond her usual time. And yet the old schoolhouse still blazes with lights.
He thinks that maybe he'll make her pay just a little extra for that. For keeping him waiting, and his smile holds a touch of evil as he contemplates what he might do to her to make her pay for this particular sin.
At the exact moment he starts to consider just kicking her fucking door in, he knows she doesn't have a phone yet, the lights begin to go out.
As always she leaves on the one over the sink. She always leaves that one on when she makes this trip. She does not want to walk from the dark night into an equally dark house.
A savage, feral smiles twists his lips as he thinks...minutes, I'll finally have my hands on her, mere minutes from this moment.
His body thrums with sexual excitement, and he pushes away from the tree. He is ready for this.
She will be his.
He licks his lips unconsciously, and his eyes strain to melt through the darkness, nailed to the door. His every muscle is held tight, poised and ready.
The door opens, and she is there. He makes out her body easily in the glow from the single light she has left on. He arches a brow and grins.
Apparently she has decided, nebulous fears aside, that no one will see her and is stepping outside wearing a grey cotton sleep shirt. Demure in its looseness, and decently mid thigh, the deeply scooped neckline has it sliding down one beautiful shoulder. He knows that this is only in his mind's eye, but he would swear he can see taut little nipples pressing against the thin fabric.
He watches with coveting eyes as she moves quickly to the little outhouse, laughing silently to himself over her mumbling out loud that she can't wait until she gets that damn toilet and shower installed.
This little one talks even when there is no one but herself to hear.
He allows her to make it safely to the outhouse. He doesn't really want her pissing herself and him when he makes his presence know.
She is three steps away from the outhouse...and still dozens of feet from the dubious safety of the old schoolhouse when his body explodes into motion and he lunges for her.
She senses something with that careful feline consciousness. And she's not a stupid one, this girl. She doesn't pause to look around or check what her senses tell her or try to talk herself out of paranoia.
She simply erupts into a desperate dash for the house, her mind already screaming at her and even if you do make it, what then? Her gibbering mind feeding her pictures of the door being kicked in even as she scrambles desperately for a weapon of any sort.
