Editor's Note: This story contains a scene of graphic violence.
* * * * *
He watched her as she moved from the living room to the bedroom. Through the eye of his telescope, he was able to watch her in almost every inch of her house. Only the den and the basement were off limits to his voyeuristic desires.
He had been watching her for over seven months, ever since the first night she moved in. He had been up until almost three in the morning, first watching her carefully unpack her most precious and private belongings and place them in their proper places, then as she slept, innocently, totally unaware of his prying eyes.
After all this time, he could tell you every piece of information about her. He knew every inch of her home as well as her body. He knew what she kept in her cupboards and refrigerator...as well as the secret toys she hid in the bottom drawer of her dresser, tucked at the back underneath the flannel sheets. He knew her more intimately than most lovers. His attic walls were papered with pictures he had taken of her every activity - eating, sleeping, jogging, washing television, showering - every moment of her life was recorded in his collage.
Watching her had filled a void in his life. With no friends or family, he was so very alone. He had shared this house with his mother until she had finally succumbed to the cancer. If he had been forced to work, he may have found a normal existence with other people but the ample settlement from the factory his mother had worked in that had caused her cancer allowed him to shut himself away from the world, receding from society - his only contact with others through his telescope. Once a week, a woman would come in to clean the house, restock the pantry and take care of the laundry. When she came, he would lock himself away in the attic, the one room she did not have access to. He had never even met her.
As always, he had agonized during the long hours that she was at work until he saw her car coming down the block. He had rushed up the stairs to the attic but was too late and she was already in the living room, sorting through the mail as she shed her coat and shoes.
Usually, the site of her abated his anxiety and he was filled with a sense of peace and comfort...but not tonight. Tonight, she was agitated. Instead of heading into the kitchen to start her single serving frozen entree after glancing through the mail and dropping it on the counter, she headed for the bedroom in a mad dash.
She hastily tore off her charcoal gray suit and through it in a wrinkled puddle in the corner. She grabbed a towel and moved to the bathroom, where she started the shower while she unpinned her hair and slipped out of her bra and panties.
She squatted on the toilet to quickly relieve herself before stepping into the shower and sliding closed the glass doors.
With the bathroom door wide open, he was able to have an unobstructed view of her rubbing soapy lather over her entire body. Normally, this would have caused his cock to throb painfully until he loosened his pants and slipped his hand onto his shaft to relieve his tension, but not this time. She was moving too fast, too hurriedly.
He moved the scope off of her, through the living room and into the kitchen where he could see her calendar on the refrigerator.
She was extremely obsessive about time and always wrote every meeting and appointment down on the calendar. As he had remembered, this evening was completely blank.
It was completely out of her character to do something last minute. From watching her as completely as he had for the past seven months, including reading her lips when she was on the phone and observing her unchanging routine day after day and week after week, he knew something was different. Something was happening and he was filled with dread in the pit of his stomach.
He moved his view back to the bathroom. She was out of the shower and drying herself off. He watched her as she almost ran to the dresser, letting the towel drop to the floor as she rooted through the drawers. She pulled out a matching bra and panty set, silky red, that he had never seen her wear before. He remembered the night she had moved in, how he had seen her carefully fold this particular set and place it in the drawer. He had laid in his bed on many occasions, stroking himself to the thought of her in that particular set. Now that his fantasy was about to become reality, he was not feeling in the least bit excited. To be exact, his cock had drawn itself up almost inside of him.
His face turned to a grimace as he watched her finish getting dressed - a short, slinky black dress with spaghetti straps, no nylons, three inch black stiletto pumps and her long strawberry blond hair cascading around her bare, smooth shoulders.
She had just finished applying her lipstick when a dark blue Buick Riviera pulled up in front of the house. A tall, handsome man in an obviously expensive black suit got out and walked to the door. Her face beamed as he rang the bell. She called out for him to wait a minute as she grabbed her evening bag and black shawl. She opened the door, trying not to show the obvious excitement she was feeling.
He took her arm in his as they walked to the car. He opened the door for her and then got in the drivers seat and they disappeared.
* * * * *
He paced the floor. It had been hours. Where was she? When was she coming back? How could she do this?
There was this tightness in his chest. He could barely breath. He took deep breaths but felt like there was no oxygen.
As the clock ticked away the minutes and then hours, the attic got hot and the air was thick.
His head throbbed, pulses of light obstructing his vision.
Every few minutes he would look through the telescope. There was no sign of her.
How could she leave with that imposter? Couldn't she see he was a fake - only pretending to care about her so he could get into those silky red panties? He didn't care about her. He didn't love her. She was just another notch on his expensive leather belt.
He clenched his fists together, his mind filling with rage. How could she be so stupid? That man could never love her....only he loved her!!!! She was supposed to wear those silky panties for him on their wedding night, just like he had imagined. This man was going to ruin everything and she was too stupid to see it.
The blue Riviera pulled up in front of the house and turned off the lights. As the happy couple walked up to the door, he wiped his bloody palms on his jeans and adjusted the telescope.
* * * * *
"I've had a wonderful time", Melissa said softly to Jeremy as they stood on the porch saying their good-byes, "It is too bad the night had to end so soon. Are you sure you can't come in, just for one drink?"
The next thing she knew, he was in her bedroom. They were kissing passionately, pulling at each other's clothes as they fumbled their way to the bed.
When he entered her, it was more wonderful then she could ever have imagined. He was so gentle and knew exactly where to touch her.
She came three times before he finally filled her and then collapsed on the bed next to her.
She kissed him gently and curled up next to him.
The night was perfect.
* * * * *
They had finished making love about an hour before. They had turned off all the lights and fallen asleep in each other's arms.
The room still smelled of the passionate sex they had just had.
