Night Crawler

This is a work of pure fiction.

All characters are 18+

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Night Crawler

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I flipped the page of my textbook and peeked over the top through the half-open door of my bedroom, directly across from the bathroom. My stepfather was in the shower and I could see his silhouette through the misty steam if I strategically tilted my head. My mom told him a million times to shut the door but he argued that the fan didn't work and that was the only way to prevent moisture buildup.

Every time she passed the open door, the banter would begin.

"Frank! Shut the door!"

"The fan's broke!"

"Fix the fan!"

"It's on my list!"

That went on for a year anyway, maybe more. Eventually, she gave up and he never did get that far down on his list I guess because, to this day, it's not fixed.

I watched him, completely covered by water, slowly turning around, arms outstretched with soap suds sliding down his chest, every inch of his body seemed magnified through the shower door. His cock was wagging between his legs until he grabbed it with his soapy hand, lifting it and lathering his balls. I watched him intently, I crossed my legs and squeezed my clit between my thighs under my babydolls. I gently caressed my nipple under my top. He glanced in my direction.

Aww, shit!

I thought as my jaw dropped.

Oh fuck! Don't let him catch you watching! Can he see me?

I pulled my book in front of my eyes and continued reading. After what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, I heard him stepping out of the shower. I peeked again. He was naked, toweling off his dark hair. I could hear him sigh heavily when he looked at himself in the mirror and wrapped the towel around his waist. I pulled my blinder up again.

"How'd your test go?" He asked as he poked his head into my room.

It took a conscious effort to look him in the eye. My face was flushed and I resisted the urge to look at his bulge.

"What test?"

"Didn't you have a test last week?"

"Oh.... Yeah... No, that's English Lit and it's next week."

"Ahh, I see... well, study study study."

My heart started pounding and my throat went dry as he turned and made his way down the hall to their room.

I wonder what he would have done if I spread my legs. He'd look...

A rush of guilt hit me.

No, he'd rat me out to Mom.

What was I doing? Why couldn't I stop looking at him? Why can't I just look away?

Everyone does it. It happens all the time. A cute guy steps onto the bus and every woman leans into the aisle to catch a glimpse of his package,

I thought as I rationalized my perversion.

I gotta get laid... soon... I'm losin' my mind.

I tried to stop myself once or twice but the moment I looked away I'd be assaulted with images of him bending me over my bed, fucking me raw. If I watched him then my legs would involuntarily squeeze together as the throbbing grew stronger. It would only take a minute before my breath caught in my throat. As soon as it subsided I could turn away.

I couldn't focus anyway so reading was a waste of time. The house was quiet. I locked my door before I lay on my bed, balled a pillow up between my legs. I brought my hand to my clit, rubbing and squeezing as I rocked my hips, feeling the tension building deep inside. The orgasm ran its course, leaving me shaking and dizzy.

It came more often lately. It had become a habit, almost an addiction but at least my sexual frustration was under control for the moment and I could open my book and continue reading.

For weeks I'd try to resist, only to give in again and again. Each time I succumbed, it became harder and harder to fight the urge. I'd become aware of how often I masturbated. I noticed that the harder I tried to stop the more those thoughts consumed me.

My mom was away at a convention. We were alone, he'd go to bed every night at 11 o'clock, he'd read for a while, the light would go out in his room by 11:30. It was the same ritual, every night and he'd be asleep by midnight, so I waited.

This was the perfect opportunity, I had to know. I had to know what his cock felt like. I had to have it in my hand to know how big it was, how soft it was, how big it would become.

At exactly 12 o'clock I crept down the black hallway and listened at his door. I could hear him breathing heavily, deep in slumber. I sank to my knees, pushed the door open ever so slowly, and crawled to his bedside. His foot was dangling off the edge, bare toes grazing the carpet. The smell of musk filled my nostrils as soon as I entered the room. The scent was clean, fresh, and masculine, his body permeating the air.

I reached under the covers, being ever so careful not to disturb the blankets more than necessary. I found his hip with my fingertips. My heart beat faster, my mouth was dry. I ran my fingers across his skin to his briefs, then traced the outline of his cock through the fabric of his shorts. My lips parted slightly as I gasped for air and cupped my hand around his thickness.

I caressed his cock gently and slowly. It felt so big in my small hand as it slowly began to swell. There was no sign of it ending any time soon, it grew thicker and longer, as if there was more and more blood rushing through it. My hand trembled slightly on his throbbing shaft.

Obsessed, I slid my hand up his cock to the top of his shorts. I was going to slink my hand down his shorts but he rolled in my direction as soon as my fingertips brushed his tummy. His hand moved my way as he made a fumbling grab for me, his fingers grazing my wrist, I'd just managed to get out of his way. He lifted his head and then dropped back onto his pillow, his eyes fluttering shut as I crouched beside his bed, scared as a rabbit, afraid to move.

When he was finished scuffling with his sheets and I was satisfied that he wasn't awake, I made a beeline for my room. I rushed down the hall on tiptoes, taking baby steps, as fast as my legs would carry me. I rounded the corner into my room and was one step away from jumping on my bed but just as I was about to make my final leap, I stubbed my toe on the footboard.

"Ow, ow, ow... fucking shit!" I crumbled to the floor like a house of cards, holding my foot.

I thought I broke my toe. The throbbing sensation from my foot grew stronger as I took in short breaths, trying to calm myself. I didn't notice him coming into my room until he flicked the light switch.

"What's going on? What happened?"

"I stubbed my fucking toe... on the... fucking... bed!"

It was at that moment that I realized that I wasn't wearing any panties. I angrily pulled my nighty down, between my legs while I held my injured foot.

"Can you walk on it?" He asked as he crouched beside me in his briefs, putting a hand on my knee.

"Ugh... I don't know, I think so. But it hurts like hell."

"Let me see," he said with some concern in his voice.

"I'll be fine. Just let me lay here for a bit until I catch my breath."

"Okay... okay, I'll get you some Advil and a cold cloth. Be right back."

The room was spinning but I managed to make my way to my feet. Using the footboard as a crutch, slowly shifting from side to side to see if I could put my weight on it. I limped gingerly over to my bed and rolled onto it, laying there in the fetal position holding my toe.

"Here you go," he said as he rushed into my room.

"Advil, water, and a compress," he said, reviewing his check list.

" We don't seem to have a gel pack, all I could find was this bag of frozen peas. I'll wrap it in a towel to make a compress. That should do the trick."

"Thank you so much," I said as I pulled my nighty down over my bare ass.

"Okay, good enough for now... " he said as he put a few tablets and the water on the nightstand. He knelt at the edge of the bed fussing with the towel and the frozen peas.

"How's that?" He said as he put the homemade compress on top of my foot.

"Ohhh... that feels so good. Thank you."

"No worries," he said with a sympathetic smile.

I sat there waiting for him to leave the room but he stayed, kneeling beside me, one hand under my foot and one hand on the compress. His eyes followed along my leg, lingered at my thighs for a moment, and then looked me in the eye. He stared at me in silence.

He knows what you did... No, he doesn't... Yes, he does, why else would he be staring at you? No, he doesn't, that's just a natural pause...

I couldn't seem to find my voice. So I just stared back. I was exposed, vulnerable. It must have been the Advil kicking in because I felt warm all over and I had an overwhelming sense of well-being.

He wants you... show him that you're willing...

I lifted my knee and spread my legs slightly to gauge his reaction. I felt the cool air rush past my moist pussy. He tilted his head as though he was examining my foot but he was staring at my crotch out of the corner of his eye.

My heart raced as my pulse began beating faster than before. I felt like I was on fire. I've never felt so aroused. It was as though all the hormones coursing through my body were building up inside of me, ready to burst out of my every pore. It was so intense that I became completely unaware of everything around me, not only of his presence next to me but also of the fact that we were in my bed, alone. My breath became rapid and shallow.

I thought that he'd take the initiative but he didn't. He glanced at the water on the nightstand and his trance broke.

"Alright then... that should do the trick!"

"I'm heading back to bed. Just give me a shout if you need anything," he said as he stood up, and gave me a friendly pat on the thigh.

He looked down at himself as he made his way towards the door. I almost laughed out loud when I saw half an erection in his shorts and a self-conscious look on his face.

"You know where I'll be," his tone was somewhat dismissive as he left me alone with my thoughts, turned out the lights, and closed the door softly.

He was really turned on... Sure he was, he wanted to fuck you... Nah... that was some kind of autonomic, involuntary response. I should have grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face into my crotch... yeah, that would have been subtle.

I chuckled to myself.

It was just after dawn when I woke up again. As I stared at the ceiling, I realized that my nipples were sensitive. They weren't hard, they tingled in anticipation. I was always horny in the morning, even more so now with the earlier event replaying in my head.

I miss morning sex so much! I gotta get laid before I lose my mind!

I wasn't thinking about my foot anymore and I wasn't going to waste the moment so I rolled over on my tummy, tucked my pillow between my legs, and knocked the stuffing out of it. I imagined my hand on his cock while grinding my cunt against the pillow.

My body felt numb from my orgasm. I glanced over at my clock, 6:20 a.m. The morning sun filtered through my pink curtains, into the room and I could make out silhouettes of furniture around me. I was at peace, surrounded by shadows and light as I dozed off once more.

Just as I opened my eyes, there was a knock at the door. Was I dreaming? There was another knock.

Nope, someone's there,

I thought.

"Come in!" I pulled the sheets to cover myself.

"How's the war wound?" Frank said as he poked his head in the door.

"Yeah, better... thanks," I said as I flexed my foot and then swished my leg back and forth under the sheets to find the mushy bag of peas.

"Great, coffee's on if you want some,"

He left the door open as he turned to head down the hall, only wearing a t-shirt and briefs. As I took note of the bulge in his underwear, my pussy started weeping again!

No way! What has gotten into me?

But now I couldn't stop thinking about him. It was so unreal, yet so fucking amazing. I was ready to rub one out again, fantasizing about him touching me and I would have but the door was open and I wasn't that daring, yet!

I hobbled down the hallway, propping myself up against the wall with one hand as I limped my way along. Frank was fixing himself breakfast. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, crossing my legs and adjusting my nighty to cover my ass. It was an old nighty- too short and very thin material. A bright green that accented the green in my eyes. It wasn't much different than most other nighties I had.

I sipped my coffee and watched him shake the frying pan before he flipped his pancakes. I watched his ass, half covered with his tee shirt, waiting for him to turn around to see if he still had a bulge.

"Are you hungry?" He said as he took a seat across from me with his plate.

"How's the foot?"

"Well, stiff but it's not too sore."

"Let me have a look," he said as he slid his chair in front of me.

I lifted my leg, my nighty slid to the top of my thigh, and put my foot between his legs. He raised my foot and examined it. His touch made goosebumps run up my leg. He looked and then rubbed my foot gently, making little circles on my instep.

"There doesn't seem to be any swelling or anything."

I took my foot off his lap, put it on my chair, and pulled my knee to my chest. I rested my head against my thigh looking down at my foot giving him a clear view of my crotch. I could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to say something.

"We need to get you some new shoes maybe."

My cheeks turned red.

"That's a good idea. Maybe some Crocs... something loose fitting that I can slip into easily."

"Yep." He nodded and went back to his breakfast.

He finished eating, pushed his chair back, and stood up.

"Why don't you go take a shower while I clean up in here," he said.

"Okay, that's a good idea. A hot bath maybe."

When I was done, I walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel, hoping to entice him, but he was gone. I was kind of bummed, but I took the opportunity to wander into their room. The bed was unmade, covers and sheets were bunched up, pillows were squished. Their closet door was wide open, its contents scattered about on the floor. The curtains to the window were shut, the room, dim.

His dirty clothes were in a pile in the corner. I picked up his jeans and underwear, held them close to my breast, and caught his scent. It was unmistakable: Old Spice aftershave, cock and balls. I inhaled deeply enjoying the smell, remembering how it felt with his cock in my hand earlier. My pussy was wet as my imagination ran wild.

Again! You fucking little nymphette!

I thought as I felt myself losing control again.

I laid down on their bed slowly pulling his pants up to my face and peeled the towel away. The cool air rushing over my naked body made me shiver. With one hand on my breast, the other reaching for my cunt as I spread my legs. I started to stroke myself, gently rubbing my clit. Moaning, gasping for breath, breathing heavily. I tried not to make too much noise as I plunged my index finger into my pussy, curling it up to tickle my g-spot.

I played the scenario out in my mind, my hand down his shorts... his cock in my mouth... him mounting me... his thick cock easing into my wet pussy. I imagined him moaning and grunting, pumping his hips, kissing my neck, whispering dirty things in my ear.

The pace quickened as I imagined this. I was breathing heavily now, sweating profusely, just short of climaxing. I started to rub harder and faster, my hand soaked. I groaned; feeling every bit of pleasure building within me as I came.

I lay there, exhausted, completely spent, panting, trying to catch my breath, still overwhelmed by the orgasm. My pussy was throbbing and felt full. I slid my ass over to get out of the wet spot when I heard the garage door open. The chain rattled, the motor hummed and the rollers rattled down their track.

Oh shit... shit shit shit!

I thought to myself.

Now what?

I jumped out of their bed and wrapped the towel around me again. I heard the back door open. I didn't have time to straighten anything up and I didn't want him to catch me in his room for no reason so I picked up an armful of his clothes. I pulled the sheets down to cover the mess that I'd made.

"Vickie?" His voice was distant, "Is everything okay?"

"Ahh.. yeah, just doing some laundry. I wanted to see if you guys had anything so I could make a load."

"Uh huh..." he said as I rushed past him in the hallway and made my way to the washing machine in the basement. I quickly added my clothes to the load, dropped in the detergent, hit start, then headed upstairs, into my room to get dressed.

He's going to see the wet spot, I know it. No, he won't. It's dark in there and he never makes the bed anyway... suppose he decides to pull the sheets off... I'm doing laundry... suppose he wants something else done.

I argued with myself as I heard his closet door open and listened for his footsteps.

I put on a pair of shorts and a tank top. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and made my way to the kitchen. The floor was cold. I wasn't wearing socks.

What am I doing? He can smell me! Oh crap, he's coming.

I thought as I heard his footsteps.

I had to get out of there... or hide somewhere... stay out of sight... put my head in the sand. I chose the former, slipped on my sneakers, and limped to the garage.

"Going to the mall for a bit!" I shouted back as I closed the door and jumped on my bike.

There's a multi-use path behind our house that leads to the mall. This is perfect. There's no traffic, no people, just a blank road to myself. I put my earbuds in and selected my playlist, trying to hit the reset button in my brain... unplug it, and plug it back in again.

The mall was bustling. Crowds of people and cars were driving everywhere. I ducked and weaved and dodged my way along. It was like an Olympic event to get to the parking rack where I locked my bike and quickly made my way into the main building. Two teenage girls walked by giggling as I limped my way through the entrance. I sneered back at them not knowing if they were making fun of me.

I took a seat in the mall court.

Whew!

My toe was killing me so I took off my runners. No one was watching as I slid them under the bench, the tile floor was cool and soothing as I walked barefoot to Sears to get my Crocs. My foot felt much better now that my toes weren't cramped up.

A few minutes later I limped my way back to my bike with my runner slung over my neck and rode home. I walked through the front door, a rush of guilt overcame me again.

Did he notice? Am I safe?

I tried to calm myself.

Deep breaths... slow, deep breaths... okay... Everything is fine... Everything is FINE!

I gave myself a mental slap on the wrist and rushed to the basement to put his laundry in the dryer.

I was dumbstruck when I saw his clothes dried and neatly folded on the ironing board. Their sheets were tumbling in the dryer.

"Is that you Vickie?" He called out.

"Umm... Yeah... I was just going to finish the laundry."

"That's okay, you can leave it. I cleaned everything up," he replied.

My conscience was crushing me and I didn't have the courage to ask what he meant by "cleaned up". Cleaned up his mess... cleaned up my mess?

I hid in my room the rest of the night, reading and waiting. Any minute now, the Spanish Inquisition could commence. I heard footsteps walk down the hall. My heart skipped a beat but they continued away from my room and to his room. Then nothing. I breathed a sigh of relief when his door closed. His bed springs creake then silence. He must have fallen asleep.