The watcher was ready. He had made his plan, and it was a good one. He would put his hands on the Librarian, he would feel Her tits, pinch Her nipples, he would caress the smooth firmness of Her ass; he would fuck Her. Never before had he come to the decision to actually be with one of the ladies he watched. His list of targets (as he termed the victims of his peeping) was long; he kept an actual list on his computer, each woman noted as to features, size, name when he could determine it, the activities he observed, any detail he thought interesting. The Librarian, Victoria, was his latest and most special. He had viewed Her more intensely than any other; she was easily the most beautiful of all his targets; the sexual appetite and ranger of activities she engaged in put all of his other targets in the shade. She was the only target he had ever photographed and he now had over seven hours of film as well as hundreds of still images of Her. Victoria undressing; Victoria exercising: Victoria having intercourse in various positions; Victoria with Her husbands dick in Her lovely mouth; Victoria bound in an array of poses. He even had taken some snaps of Her as she worked in the library because he wanted to have a full inventory of Her form.
She was a stunner for sure. His first estimate of Her height was a little off because she had been wearing heels; he had since had time to study Her and come up with more exact proportions. She was 5' 8" barefoot, olive complexion, dark eyes, a fine, thin nose, hair full and rich and black, so black that it shone as it hung below her shoulders, cut and shaped by a gifted hairdresser, not straight and not curly. Her body was in fine shape, toned and fit from Her daily exercise, with a classic hourglass shape, legs so finely shaped as to excite envy in other women. She was in Her 30's, he guessed 33, not a wrinkle on Her. Her hips were wide and Her ass was firm and impudent, wiggling boldly when she walked. As for Her breasts - perfection. Large and full, he estimated 38C (which he would verify at his first opportunity), dark nipples and large areolas begging for attention. She trimmed Her pussy hair into a Mohawk style, one vertical strip about two inches wide. Perhaps she weighed 135 lbs., and the watcher often thought of Spencer Tracy's line describing Kate Hepburn, "What's there is choice!"
He had watched Her for several months and knew Her habits. She and Her husband, Warren, had a routine and a pattern of behavior that the watcher exploited to maximize his viewing opportunities. They routinely left their bedroom window and shade raised about three inches to allow air into the room. This gave the watcher all the space he needed to observe them and film them with a minimum chance of detection, so long as he was very careful. He was always very careful.
He was consumed, obsessed with the desire to fuck Her. He had always used his targets as objects of his fantasy, imagining them engaged in various sexual activities with him as he masturbated, but with the Librarian it was different. She was so hot, so sexy, he had seen Her do so many erotic things that he had to be with Her, had to touch Her, had to fuck Her. As he had watched Her over the weeks a plan had formed, the final piece of which had fallen into place the night he saw Her bound to Her bed, alone.
Warren was a Councilman and attended Council meetings twice each month, first and third Wednesday nights from 7 PM until 11 PM or later. For the past two months he had bound Vicki to the bed before he left; she lay there awaiting his return, Her passion growing by the hour, until he came home and ravished Her in Her restraints. It was an awesome thing to behold and the watcher had it all on record. This behavior was what he would exploit to be with Her.
The plan was simple: after Warren left for his meeting the watcher would break into the house (he had worked for a locksmith during his college years and knew how to pick locks) and go to Her as she lay spread-eagle on Her bed. He would throw a towel over Her face so she could not see him because he wished (quite naturally) to avoid detection and he knew she would recognize him since he had been to the library so often. He planned to have his camera set up outside the window to capture his triumph as he climbed onboard the good ship Victoria and banged away. He could take his time and explore Her body for a long time because he knew that Warren always called home and left a message on the answering machine to let Her know he was on his way. In fact, he also called when the Council took a break mid-way through the night's discussion, so the watcher would have plenty of warning before he had to leave. Of course, once he had raped Her he could never go back to Her house, and that was a bummer because he loved watching Her, but he consoled himself with the fact that he had hours of movies of Her and he would always know that he had fucked Her. He also intended to bring off some trophies, keepsakes to remember Her by, a nice lacy bra and panty set or perhaps a blouse that smelled like Her...
The next Wednesday night came and he prepared. He was very calm, methodical in his preparation. He gathered his backpack containing his video equipment, added a pair of thin leather gloves (wouldn't do to leave fingerprints), threw in a dark blue bath towel and a tube of Astroglide lube (in case she ran dry) and zipped the pack closed. He hadn't masturbated for a week and he was sure to blow a nice, big, thick load when he came tonight. He had been saving himself for Her.
The drive to his parking spot was uneventful. He pulled into a strip mall parking lot, off in the back corner where it was dark, locked his car, took up his bag and walked away towards a small forested area. Into the trees, up a slight rise. Once on the opposite slope he could make out Her house about two hundred yards away. A single light shone from the house, Her bedroom light.
He trudged on, his excitement growing. This could be HIS night, his great moment. He neared the edge of the trees and paused. He was at the edge of Her backyard and he scanned left and right looking for anyone who might spot him. He had done this dozens of times and he was always ultra-careful to avoid detection. Once he had to leave because a skunk waddled right up to him; twice before Her right side neighbors had thrown a party in their backyard and he had had to abort his mission. But tonight all was quiet and dark, nothing to prevent him from going forward with his plan.
He stole softly up to Her window hoping that good old Warren had followed his established behavior pattern and tied Vicki to the bed. Crouching down, he peered into Her bedroom and swore to himself.
Tonight, of all nights, they had not followed their pattern. He had counted on the fact that they were creatures of habit, that they would do as they had done for several weeks past. His entire plan was based on this premise, and tonight they had changed their behavior. She had always before been tied spread-eagle on Her back, lying in bed, head propped on a pillow, watching TV while Warren was off at his meeting. Not tonight. Not tonight!
Tonight she was kneeling on the bed, head towards the foot of the bed and turned away from his view. He jerked back at his first glance for fear that she might turn and see him. He was enraged, infuriated! His plan was shot all to hell because these stupid assholes couldn't follow their own pattern! Shit! Shit! Shit!
He looked again, cautiously peering into Her room. She was still kneeling their but now Her face was turned toward him - she was wearing a blindfold! Why the fuck is she...Then his brain registered the entire scene and he almost shouted for joy.
She and Warren had tried something different this night. She was bound and blindfolded on Her knees, Her ankles in leather cuffs and attached to a spreader bar, the bar then tied to the posts at the head of the bed. A rope was tied to each knee and then secured to a post at the foot of the bed. A long wooden bar ran across Her shoulders, Her wrists and biceps bound to it so that Her arms were at right angles to Her torso. The bar was then secured to the posts at the foot of the bed, about halfway up, say three feet above mattress level. She was restrained in doggy position, blindfolded and secured, awaiting Her hubby's return. She wore nothing but black nylon stockings and black stiletto heels. Her tits hung down, Her head drooped. The radio was playing classic rock for Her listening pleasure. She was totally immobile, she couldn't lie down, stretch, shift Her weight. She was there for Warren to have when he got home.
