This cunt has been gone for tinker's dam near a month now, he thought to himself as he watched Danielle through the window of his unassuming sedan. bet at how she walks, how SLUTTY she is…

Granted, she was just walking inside her business firm to take a nap, but there's a lot of story to get behind here. This guy has been stalking Danielle for approximately a year now, his whole lifetime ruined because of his hyper-obsession. Did he feature an undiagnosed mental problem ? Probably, considering he threw away his married woman, nipper, protagonist, all of it just because he saw this chick at a coffee shop ONCE. Afterwards he even talked to her a bit in the parking lot, some small talk of the town, but that was it. He practically lived in his car now, just watching Danielle occasionally and jerking off to her when he'd catch her naked via his intricate hidden cam network all around her sign. He even planned out a schedule for her :

530-600 : Wakeup and do all that sunup clip shit

615-645 : exhibitor ( ego note : jerked meat off time ! )

700-1500 : Worktime ( expend clip fantasizing about her )

1515-1830 : SHE'S back, nighttime shucks ( slip food off her table, she'll never notice )

1845-1915 : shower ( hitch off again )

1930- ? ? ? : Watch TV, do crop stuff ( boring )

quietus is whenever : bandstand by her window and jerk off while staring at her sleepy face.

Has he raided her panty drawer before ? Hell yes, he's a certified"professional"now. Has he went inside her house while she was sleeping and watched her from there ? Uhhhh….YEAH ! Has she unknowingly eaten his cum from those monolithic containers of Greek yoghourt she dusts off every work ? More than a cup by this gunpoint, he's sure. He knew her personal life better than anyone, even her own family ; the dubious men she occasionally takes home at Nox, the nights where she cries herself to slumber, the single where she binges on ice pick while watching nature documentaries ... but she always, and he means ALWAYS halt in cast. Gym five times a week for an minute or so, always comes back sweating bullets and needing another shower ( more time to jack off to her ). Every piece of her agenda planned out meticulously, plans A through Z of her day by day routine, so you can envisage the surprise when he woke up one day to cypher out she was gone to"lay aside the rainforest"or some shit like that. He frantically searched her sign of the zodiac for her whereabouts, taking some time to jack off into her sheets, checking every nook and crack but she was nowhere to be found until a voicemail came in from one of her fellow mentioning the trips.

And what a fit he threw ! He would not be able to see her perfect soundbox, the way the sunlight reflected off her naked build in the exhibitor, the way her ass and tits jiggled everytime she took a step ... NONE of that for a month ! He stole some of her matter out of spite, smashed some on the basis then buried them underneath piles of trash, called her many, many obscene gens when he was absolutely trusted no one was watching. Within the outset week he was going mad, a dog without a intent, so to speak. He contemplated if life was even worth living without Danielle anymore, and considered locking himself in her garage with a pretty self-annihilation annotation, turning on the engine and letting death release him via carbon paper monoxide. He was right there too, freshly-showered and cleaned to face dear for Danielle and with a preeminence on the dashboard, ready to turn the key then he stopped, seeing some old beakers covered in cobweb. For the next few weeks he actually managed to get his introverted ass out into the darker corners of streetlife, talking with prostitutes and small-time pushers alike until he got what he wanted. Finally, after spending hale days trying to not get killed by the local friar preacher crowd, they recommended his case to a pharmacist, as long as they got to use his car for some of their more questionable bodily function on asking. This disgraced apothecary, essentially working as a freelance drug cook now, took one tone at him, said something snide about"stalkers ”, but then whipped up a gram of powder, which he handed to him in a midget plastic bag.

"Under ANY lot, DO NOT sniff THIS. Shit is airborne and snorting the full thing'll kill ya…"

The pharmacist droned on and on, but this was really only the first dance step in the stalker's program. The abridged variation is that, during a TV call with her household, he'll coldcock the non-lethal amount of powder into the air circulation system, knocking her out monotone within a few minutes. He'll have a very poor window to get inside her star sign and do whatever he wants to her while her fellowship watches on-call ( muted of line, the last affair he wants to take heed is her mother's anguished yell ), and when he's done he'll gingerly leave her consistency outside as he burns her house down. In the region she was living and in the eye of an economic recession, this was essentially a one-way ticket to permanent wave homelessness. Now this program does vocalise fucked up and let's admit it, it is a fucked up plan. But it is really representative of this guy's fucked up mindset, and he'll point at null to see this revenge planned out.

Back in the submit, he waits a few minutes, his spunk throbbing and sweat beginning to run down his face like he ran a marathon carrying a 20 kilogram knapsack. Fuck, it's getting hot and he feels flighty even before the actual deed of conveyance ... FUCK ! He considers calling off the whole thing, that lilliputian part of his tortured mind begging him to not go through with it but before it can get any hold, he has his lens hood up and is briskly walking towards her house. Thank God no one cares what happens on this stretch of road, as he quickly glances around and leaps over her fence to reach her humming AC unit and respiration machine. Doesn't help his nerves that it is hot as roll in the hay, the hottest summer on phonograph record for the past few geezerhood, and the effort begins staining his back already. Hearing the sounds of her sweet voice chatting and laughing along to her family, he sits back and listens for a few moments, donning a balaclava so that her kin will have no estimate who he is. Heading over to the ventilation shit, the stalker precariously empties just a speckle of the powder into the palm of his gloved hand, holding his breath as he moves his excite hand over to the air thing, dropping it inside without a second thought.

"Count to thirty ... shit should crop by then. Whatever you do, I don't want no liaison back to me…"

contrary to some people's experiences with clock time, the thirty passes as quick as the guy could depend and without regret he smashes the windowpane by her back door with a brick. Ignoring the questions and jar from the video family, he reaches inside the shattered window and unlocks it, slipping interior and moving his way quickly to the"livelihood elbow room ”, in which she's video calling her family on the couch. Sure enough, the powder has dissipated and she lies completely passed out on the couch, wearing some plain denim and a tee shirt that left much to the imagination ... but he didn't need much to opine, he's seen her naked hundreds of times. Pressing the deaf-and-dumb person button on their TV, he has a naughty sentiment and writes his name on a nearby stick tack of paper, showing it clear as day to the family. As soon as his intent becomes assoil, the home is cleared of their younger member, the men balling their clenched fist, turning purple in rage as they shout hushed threats of furiousness to the masked sneak. Some have their sound out, probably calling the police or something. Whatever the casing, Danielle is finally his.

His mouth salivating like a starved dog when it sees a T-Bone steak, he reaches his violently shaking custody around her, caressing her supple pulp for the first time, leaving despicable trails of his own perspiration. She's always looked like a sleeping Angel, someone too innocent for this world or the side by side. Whatever, the stalker is going to turn out to her that aliveness can get real to anyone really quickly. Flipping her top down, in a mo he has ripped the seat of her denim in half, her plank ass buttock bursting out of the tear. He fumbles a bit with his own pants, having to silently chastise himself for having such horrible anxiety-shakes, but he nonetheless manages to get his pants bunched up around his mortise joint and his erection rising. Before he thrusts himself into her, he spreads her ass apart until her whoreson is clearly seeable, surrounded by a"starfish"of slightly darker flesh. He plays with the inner lining of her ass a bit, tracing his finger around and darting into his finger before withdrawing his finger. He doesn't dare smell his digit and instead chafe the scent all over his stopcock, using his stopcock ( now"lubed up"with her nasty ass odor ) to slap any piece of seeable build on her eubstance, including her face and arms. Now that he's actually doing it it seems really easy, like the homemade fleshlight he practiced on beforehand.

He lowers his facial expression so that he's in credit line with her asscrack, diving his glossa into her bastard like Hussein's weapon of mass destruction are hidden in there ( excuse the alliteration ). Tastes a bit like shit, but whatever, he has been waiting for this moment for a year. At the Saame time he works his finger deeper into her ass, burying his fingerbreadth up to the knuckle in there. Yeah she's pretty dry, but he has always masturbated dry and there's no power point in lubing up for her pleasure, what's even the peak. Spelling her name with his tongue as it licks her whoreson, he spells her last name with his finger's breadth buried inside of her, a little fun face activity before the main effect. He looks down and sees that he has actually come without even being aware, the small white puddle already staining the floor. Not caring how sloppy he leaves the offence scene, it'll all be gone anyway, he uses his deal to cup most of it, using it to literally slap her in the face so hard that he's afraid it might wake her up. Other than a tiny, instinctive jerk, she settles back into sleep and he loose his own asshole just a bit, cum seeping into her anterior naris as she breathes in his life-giving substance. The prowler admires his handicraft a bit before his cock is back to broad hardness and he sticks it without a second thinking all the way into her ass. Probably a bad estimation, as he soon realizes the reason why people always lube up. Yes he's stuck in her squeezing ass tunnel and it feels like nothing on this Earth, but he can't puff himself back out. His first attempt actually hurts, cutting the tip of his penis off from oxygen. Looking around frantically, he is the luckiest guy on Earth as a low vial of European olive tree oil sits on the nearby coffee board. Leaning over, his sweaty chest touching her back, he grabs the vial and begins pouring it into her ass to let himself out. After initially seeming futile, he slowly starts to feel ease up and he allows himself to retire from her ass, pieces of SOB from her interior depths clinging to his shaft. However, he stops from fully withdrawing himself, leaving just the head buried in her, and, giving himself a moment to emit, driving force himself all the way back inside her. Thankfully, it's not so tight this time and in a bit each thrust spirit heavenly, her bastard having molded perfectly around his hammer. He wishes this import can finis forever, but he knows it'll be cut myopic either by his incoming orgasm or the law. Whatever comes first, it doesn't stop him from rearranging her intestine with no regard for her health, which is exactly what he's doing. Adding some construction in his stab, he makes sure to explore her depths, eliciting a bit more pleasure for himself and grabbing her tits for a handhold through her shirt. Squeezing particularly hard, he tears her shirt in half so now she's completely naked except a pair of socks, her animal foot being lifted off the priming coat every time he thrusts. Sliding his cock completely into her ass, he occasionally takes it out to slap her cheeks, spraying hoot flecks all over her cheek and go. By the one-tenth minute her unit ass was red from his slapping, the outer anchor ring of her ass swollen and looking rightly abused ( her inside probably look the same ), but the boilers suit fondness of this State keeps the prowler satisfied. In order to stop coming at this point, he begins focusing on the random shit around her house : trying to count every single piece of paper from her job that she has left on the kitchen table, the assorted entrap pic of her and her phratry, the pencils scattered about haphazardly adjacent to her laptop. No thing what he does, he does have to give into the primal urges eventually.

Deciding to stick around in her, he humps Danielle like a hare a few times, his hip bucking involuntarily into her. His vision blurred a bit by hallucinatory stars and letting out a guttural moan that anyone else would surely see outside, he steels himself inside her as his cockhead wells up, shooting the first circle deep into her ass. The rest period of the ropes cover her internally so deeply and thoroughly it would probably require surgical help to get rid of all of it ; she'll be shitting cum for awhile. However, he can't revel the here and now much as he's pretty sure that temptress are coming, so he picks up Danielle ( which isn't too intemperate ) and carries her sleeping organic structure back outside, laying her on the hard flat coat while he puts the concluding step of his plan into motion, taking out a small bottle of decipherable fluid. This is the final endowment from the disgraced pharmacist, what is essentially a container of homemade napalm. He walks into the house one last time, breathing in deeply the smell of the sex, waving one last teasing goodbye to her family and he pours the message of the nursing bottle out all around her kitchen, making trusted to wrench on the stove. With a motion picture of a match, he makes sure to already have a black market commencement by the clip he tosses it on the napalm, the totally room going up and belching roll of tobacco. His eyes watering from the waterlessness, he sweeps Danielle off her feet and runs out of the house, in which a minor crew is beginning to gather. For all they know, he's just a concerned neighbor who saved Danielle, you and I know the whole Sojourner Truth. Shrugging off the thanks and reassurances from the crowd, he runs up to a nearby ambulance, its temptress screaming as he says a few Word of God to the paramedic. Realistically, she'll just be exquisitely, she just might take walking issues for awhile. As the star sign goes up in a hell and he drinks a bottle of water system, he sees her family unit's car outside. Giving one last face back at his pretty, unconscious mind Danielle, he makes a mad dash towards his car, the future few arcsecond being a blur as he speeds off, watching the disruption in his hind end view mirror.

commodity thing he still has the sleep of that drug powder when he feels a bit pissed off at Danielle, wherever she is .