Intrusion 2

Chapter 1

He vaulted the 6 foot fence energetically and immediately dropped to the cool dewy grass. He crouched there like a panther; panting, watching, his heart racing with the thoughts going through his head. He took a minute to review what he saw. A house in front of him lit by moonlight, just big enough and stately enough to be of good breeding, and he knew what that breeding would bring with it. He waited and watched to be sure there were no traps that he would fall straight into. Security was not something that he had thought of until now. Until now his mind had been consumed with only the thoughts of the girl that slept a mere 70 yards or so from where he was now lying in wait.

He forced himself to look for the signs of paranoid affluence. Kennels - none that he could see. Infra red cameras - none on the back side of the house. Good. Floodlights? Well if there were, all the better to see how to enter the house. As it happened he could see none, so he was going to have to think on his feet this time. He rose to his feet slowly and took his first good look at the house. As he looked he could feel the sweat standing on him in light beads. It was a warm night and, although dressed only in tee-shirt and jeans he was sweating because he had run through the woods at the back of the house to be where he was now. There was no rush. It was the anticipation of the moment that had made him arrive sooner rather than later. As he stood there the sweat was drying on him, leaving a musky smell and a clamminess that would not have been abnormal.

He took slow steps towards the back of the house. Still waiting for a light to be triggered and unmask him from the night. None awoke, so he moved forward more certain now, sure of his intentions. It was about 40 yards across the capacious lawn to the house. It had been recently mown on the hot day that had preceded this night, and the light wind that was cooling him down now was causing light ripples on the surface of the pool he was now circumnavigating. He could imagine the scene the evening before - she would have been in the pool cooling herself, enjoying the serenity of opulence that came with wealth and stature. That was why he was here. And she was soon to know it.

He arrived at the back door. It was solid and oak, as one might expect, and secured in far too many places for him to attempt to conquer it, so he had to take a different tack. He stalked round the brick-work until he found what he was looking for. A kitchen window left on the vent latch. He withdrew a credit card from his wallet and tweaked it in the gap between the woodwork. The latch lifted impotently and revealed the access he needed. Wallet in pocket again he pulled the window lightly. These homes have good windows, but a squeaky hinge at this stage might be his undoing. He pulled carefully and slowly. A quick scan behind him revealed a bucket close by. He brought it, upended it and stood on it to allow access to the house. He stood on the window sill, again taking a moment to be sure there was nothing to trap him. No infra-reds. No feeding bowls on the floor below him. This place was good! He slowly let himself down into the threshold of the kitchen. He was in, and he knew where he wanted to be next. She had no idea.

He made his way across the kitchen to the doorway. The hall was beyond that and he allowed himself to enter the inner areas of the house. He paused again. This time it was not to look for security measures, it was to gaze upon the world that he was invading. Opulence was alien to him. He was from the other side of town and grandeur was not something he was used to. He took the pen light out of his pocket, flicked it on, crouched down again and illuminated the pictures that were on the coffee table in front of him. Sure enough there she was. Pictures of times gone by. A skiing trip. Her smile showed well cared for teeth that were as white as the snow that lay about her. A picture of her astride a horse. She was only a teenager on this one, obviously some years ago. The picture of innocence - a girl and a horse in harmony. That was not the girl he had come to rest his gaze on. That was not how she was now. Full of self-assured will and determination. Arrogance had not invaded her, but her education and parents had provided a background that had left her ready to face the plights of the world with confidence. Finally he moved the light over to a picture of her as she is now. It was a picture of the girl sat in the driving seat of her new bright red Mercedes coupe. The top was down and she was holding the keys aloft as if they were a prize she had just won. Again the smile was there. Broad and serene. The black leather of the interior contrasted perfectly with the long golden hair that hung down from her head. It was all just another sign of self-assurance and internal happiness. That was something that tonight would test.

The stairs led away to the left. Open plan and winding around in a broad radius. Just the sort of staircase that she would parade down in her ball-gowns, making the entrance of her life as she accompanying some young beau to the opera or the Summer dance. He placed his foot on the first step. No creaks yet. Experience had taught him that he would be better walking on the outer edges of the steps to avoid the treads giving under his weight and perhaps releasing a tell-tale creak. He moved his weight and mounted another tread. His heart pounded as he climbed the stairway. It suddenly dawned on him what he was about to do. No other person had done this to her before, he hoped, and he also hoped that no-one else would do it again. Was he sure? Was this the thing to be doing on a perfect summers night. The removal of innocence. Ha! He was fooling himself if he actually thought this would be the denouement of a girls innocence. That had taken place many years before in the back of some Roller or other. She was in her twenties now and, although daddy would probably not approve, she had had her fill of young men in her time. Not this one though, and not under these circumstances.

He turned as he climbed. He looked up the stairs and could see in the pale moonlight a set of doors that led from the landing. He was getting so close now. His palms started to sweat with anticipation and he placed them on his tee-shirt to wipe away the evidence of his nerves. He felt his chest under the cotton. He was trim and well toned. He had taken time and effort over the years to make himself how he looked. Strong and agile. Muscles to stretch the fabric of his tee-shirt just so, and to make him as proud as he needed to be when walking along the beach front. It was this self-assurance that carried him on now. Reaching the top of the stairs now he decided on his next move. The master bedroom had to be at the front or the back of the house, he had decided, and that left three options. A quick calculation led him to discount the door that was to his left as being the bathroom (that looked out to the side of the house). Well, one of them at least - the one for the guests. Hell! What if she had company? He was going to have to be extra careful. He decided there was nothing for it but to try the doors in turn. He went for the door in front of him. That led, he had surmised, to one of the bedrooms at the front. He slowly opened the door and snaked his head round the wood. The curtains were open. He could see a freshly made double bed and flowers standing on the night table next to it. The scene was beautiful and he was relieved to find nothing to disturb him yet. He was also disappointed as his heart was racing so fast now that he in one sense wanted to get to his target as soon as he could. However the suspense was adding to the moment and he closed the door with a smile on his face, ready to try his luck again. He moved down the landing to the other door that led to a front-facing bedroom. He looked down at the handle. Could this be it, he thought. Am I going to do it now? Yes.

He pushed down on the handle and it squeaked. Not a lot, but nevertheless there was a noise, and that was what he didn't want right now. He paused, gripped the handle tighter, and moved it down again, but making sure it moved flush with the door, minimising any chance of metal rubbing against metal. He slowly opened the door. No moonlight. My god, he thought. I'm actually doing this! His head stretched round the door and looked in. He could make out a double bed from the light of the clock radio that was sat proud on the night-stand. What he could also make out was a suitcase on the floor at the foot of the bed and two people causing bumps in the duvet. His heart nearly stopped there and then. He froze completely. There was nothing to give himself up, for the moment. The urge to breathe had departed him for the moment, and he was transfixed with the situation. Firstly, there were guests in this house. Secondly he was in immediate danger of waking them RIGHT NOW. That was neither in his game plan, and certainly not in the fantasies that had rocked him for some time. However this was not a time to be put off. He had come to do what he wanted, and making noise was not what he wanted her to do anyway. He would be safe if he went carefully.

He breathed again. Lightly and shallowly, but he replenished the air in his lungs and stalked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He moved so slowly it hurt, but he knew that the game could be up so soon if he did not tread as carefully as he knew how. The door came to its frame and he released the handle to stay the door, taking care not to repeat the squeak that, he realised, nearly gave him away on entering the room. This was not going to put him off. He was just going to have to make sure she understood there was no noise to be made. But then force was on his agenda. It always had been since he had started to envisage this scenario so long ago.

He spun around. The door to the rear bedroom opposite him now. He knew what was on the other side. He steeled himself and lowered his hand to the handle. He had never done anything like this before. She was special and he wanted her to know it for sure. He put weight on the handle. It gave way, releasing the door to open under his will. No squeaks emitted. Perfect. There was a half-light this time that met his face. Neither full moonlight, but not the heavy curtains that had been placed to service the guests needs in their room. He looked for the windows to see what he was presented with. There were two windows in this room, bedecked with curtains made of a sheer fabric through which a small amount of light was pervading. The moon was on the other side of the larger of the windows, and he could make out that these curtains were red. He took a second to let his mind wander to how these would look on a sunny morning, waking her with a glow of warmth about the room to make her feel foetal in her refuge.

But this was night, and the moon was keeping watch. Actually it was providing enough light to allow him to see fairly well into her bedroom. He scanned the scene, and found the usual things in place. A wall decked with wardrobes, as would befit a young woman with money to spend on all the clothes she wanted. A door, undoubtedly leading to the en-suite which again befitted her abode. A chest of drawers with more pictures on it. There was also a small arm-chair in the corner. He wanted to savour the occasion, so he allowed himself a moment again for his mind to dance across the myriad of scenarios that arm-chair would throw up. He could picture her dressing herself, sat on the edge of the chair, pulling up the stockings on her long svelte legs. He could just about feel the silky smoothness of her skin. He almost saw the rising sun on the other side of those red voile curtains as she pulled on her knickers and prepared herself for the day with its forlorn daydreams and fantasies. He started to think of her undressing herself. Oh yes, he wanted to think of that too. But he stopped himself. This was not a time to get carried away. This was a time to focus. He had played this scenario out many times in his head. He knew what he was doing, and he had to stop himself from deviating from his plans. He brought himself back to the time at hand and moved like a cat into the room.

Chapter 2

It all started last autumn, in a bar on the other side of town. His side of town. When she walked alone into Amigos, it was like a light being turned on. He happened to be looking in the direction of the door as she entered his world, and perhaps if he hadn't seen her push open the door and walk in, she might have slipped into the crowded bar completely unnoticed. She would have been able to get her drink and hide in the corner without raising anyone's attention.

There was nothing special about her clothing. In fact she was wearing similar clothes to a lot of people in this bar on the wrong side of town. It was not that which gave her away and sparked his attention. She wore a man's shirt, plain and unassuming; her dark blue jeans hugged her hips perfectly, and her slightly shabby pumps finished the disguise. No, it was not the clothes that gave her away. She had done her best to try and fit in to the world to which she was visiting. It wasn't her hair, perfectly scraped back into a long pony tail, tied up and decorated with a small piece of ribbon. It wasn't even her make-up, so delicately applied and understated that it really should have raised alarm bells. She was just in the wrong place. She didn't belong. She knew it and he knew it, but her disguise was good enough to fool the other people in the bar that weren't looking, and who didn't know a fish out of water when they saw it.

Amigos was filled with working people. They got on with their business in a way that was comfortable and relaxed. She was not relaxed, but she couldn't help looking the way she did. It was her best effort, but to him it didn't work. She let the door close behind her, taking a minute to get her bearings. She spied the bar and moved towards it with determination. It was obvious she didn't know anyone here. She didn't do that tell-tale craning of the neck one does when visiting a local. She was looking for no-one and no-one was looking for her. That was what was making her stand out. But she wasn't even a newcomer to an area, as they more often than not attend a new bar with someone; a friend or colleague, maybe even a neighbour; just someone who would be able to break a bit of ice and to help her meet new people. No, she was alone, and she was a tourist. He knew this from seeing her in his previous life. He had once worn the trappings of affluence too, before he had cast them off like she had now. His world had been one afforded by his parents, which he had chosen to kindly turn down in favour of working for his living. His private school education had given him the qualifications to rise to management, but the building site on which he worked was where he belonged. He wanted real friends, not the friends that are bought by throwing parties, or sucking up to at the round table meetings his father so regularly attended.

It had been a long time since he had seen her last, but she had never left his mind. It was a world ago. He had seen her from afar – friends of friends, or was that friends of daddy's friends, as she grew up in her mansion. Whatever it was, she had always been far too aloof to mix with his sort. He would see her out riding one of her horses whenever she came back from boarding school. She never noticed him – he was just that much younger to never quite fit in with her circle of friends. Then as he grew up he rebelled against the claustrophobia that seemed to pen him in to the world above the populace. He knew there was something else for him, so made himself a misfit and dropped out of society when he was able to get his first job and provide for himself. This sealed the end of any hopes he had harboured of winning her beauty as her own. After all, his desire for her was always tinged with a hint of disgust that she had never noticed him – that she was always above him. There was an inverted snobbery that made him want her to see what life was like down in the gutter. Those sewer rats could actually be good friends – better friends than those high class snobs that she pretended to like. But she would never be seen dead in the wrong bar or restaurant. She had her world and that suited her very well, or so it seemed. She would have her shopping excursions to Paris or Milan, and her make-overs would always keep her looking pristine for her continual parties, events and social gatherings.

But now she was here, and her breeding was showing through her disguise to those that were looking. And he was looking. Her flaxen hair was still well maintained and conditioned. There were things that she was not going to give up, even for her disguise today. After all, she had her world to return to when this was all over, and over it would be. As every tourist knows, an essential part of visiting somewhere is leaving it, unless of course you are planning to stay there for ever, and this girl was definitely not cut out for staying.

He left the bar that evening having not talked to her. She sat there all night looking, but he didn't know what for. Perhaps it was a man, perhaps it was a woman, but it definitely wasn't for anyone she knew. And this set his mind racing. Had wanted her so much as a teenager that it hurt. It hurt in all sorts of ways. Passion, longing, lust and arousal, but also jealousy of the forbidden and the jealousy of the girl who for so long had managed to ignore and show contempt for this man who just wanted to love her. He only wanted to bring her pleasure because he wanted her so much . His only desire was to bring her pleasure – to make her come in the best way she had ever felt – the best he had ever made a woman come. Because he wanted to make her his.

He wondered for quite some time what it was that she was searching for, and then it dawned on him. What if she was looking for anyone? What if she had finally decided to throw off the trappings of her world for more of a purpose than just being anonymous in a bar. And that troubled him. What if she had found someone? What if that opportunity to make her his own had passed him by? This was not going to happen!

He spent the next few weeks of his spare time tracking her down. He looked through the phone book. Stupid, of course. Someone of that stature doesn't list themselves to the commoners – just to the chosen few. Then county hall, parish records, voting records, and finally a humble up-market department store finally served to tie him to her address. Her abode. It was not affluent. It was modest, by her standards. A well preserved detached house in the suburbs. Not the mansion that daddy could afford for her, by any stretch of the imagination. He had little doubt that daddy had somewhat of a hand in this, but that didn't matter. The address on the bill he had managed to cajole an assistant into giving him (a long lost brother was the story) read 'Miss'. And that 'Miss' was all he needed to know. If married people go out and seek out liaisons, it is in a much more discreet location than a local bar where anyone could be watching. Married people seek out escorts or people of the night who guarantee discretion. No, she was alone. She was looking for 'anyone', and that turned him on. He had placed himself on the right side of the tracks for once. His luck had placed him in the right situation, at the right time, and he was not going to let this particular situation pass him by. He knew where she lived, and he was going to give her 'anyone'. Although this 'anyone' knew how to make her scream. And beg for more.

Chapter 3

Sara paced the floor of the hotel room, thinking of the pleasure that undoubtedly lay ahead of her. Every detail had been planned months in advance; every piece of clothing, right down to her beautiful, hand-made lingerie that had been specially chosen..