This bitch has been gone for darn near a calendar month now, he thought to himself as he watched Danielle through the windowpane of his unassuming sedan. depend at how she walks, how SLUTTY she is…

Granted, she was just walking inside her theatre to take aim a nap, but there's a lot of history to get behind here. This guy has been stalking Danielle for approximately a year now, his all liveliness ruined because of his hyper-obsession. Did he have an undiagnosed mental problem ? Probably, considering he threw away his married woman, youngster, friends, all of it just because he saw this bird at a coffee store ONCE. Afterwards he even talked to her a bit in the parking lot, some little talk, 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 raw via his intricate hidden cam network all around her house. He even planned out a schedule for her :

530-600 : Wakeup and do all that sunup time give away

615-645 : SHOWER ( self eminence : jerk off time ! )

700-1500 : Worktime ( spend clock time fantasizing about her )

1515-1830 : SHE'S BACK, nighttime shit ( steal food off her mesa, she'll never card )

1845-1915 : rain shower ( jerk off again )

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

nap is whenever : Stand by her window and jerk off while staring at her sleepy face.

Has he raided her scanty drawer before ? Hell yes, he's a certified"professional person"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 massive containers of Greek yogurt she dusts off every work ? More than a cup by this point, he's sure. He knew her personal biography better than anyone, even her own category ; the dubious men she occasionally takes nursing home at Night, the nights where she cries herself to sleep, the ones where she binges on ice cream while watching nature documentary film ... but she always, and he means ALWAYS stays in Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe. Gym five times a calendar week for an hour or so, always comes back sweating smoke and needing another exhibitor ( to a greater extent time to masturbate to her ). Every piece of her schedule planned out meticulously, plans A through Z of her day by day subprogram, so you can imagine the surprise when he woke up one day to figure out she was gone to"save the rainforest"or some shit like that. He frantically searched her house for her whereabouts, taking some clip to jack up 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 colleagues mentioning the trips.

And what a fit he threw ! He would not be able to see her perfect body, the way the sunshine reflected off her defenseless flesh in the shower, the way her ass and titty jiggled everytime she took a step ... NONE of that for a month ! He stole some of her things out of malice, smashed some on the ground then buried them underneath mint of trash, called her many, many obscene names when he was absolutely sure enough no one was watching. Within the outset calendar week he was going mad, a dog without a purpose, 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-destruction preeminence, turning on the engine and letting Death freeing him via carbon monoxide. He was right there too, freshly-showered and cleaned to look expert for Danielle and with a tone on the dashboard, ready to turn the key then he stopped, seeing some old beakers covered in cobwebs. For the next few calendar week 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 whole days trying to not get killed by the local Dominican crew, they recommended his guinea pig to a pill roller, as long as they got to use his car for some of their more questionable natural process on request. This disgrace pharmacist, essentially working as a freelance drug Captain James Cook now, took one look at him, said something snide about"stalkers ”, but then whipped up a Gram of powder, which he handed to him in a flyspeck plastic bag.

"Under ANY circumstances, DO NOT SNIFF THIS. Shit is airborne and snorting the entire thing'll pour down ya…"

The pharmacist droned on and on, but this was really only the starting time step in the stalker's plan. The abridged variation is that, during a video Call with her family, he'll deck the non-lethal amount of powder into the air circulation system, knocking her out flat within a few minutes. He'll have a very short windowpane to get inside her theater and do whatever he wants to her while her family watches on-call ( muted of path, the finally affair he wants to find out is her female parent's anguished cries ), and when he's done he'll gingerly leave her consistence outside as he burns her house down. In the area she was living and in the middle of an economic recess, this was essentially a one-way ticket to permanent wave homelessness. Now this program does sound 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 diaphragm at zero to see this revenge planned out.

Back in the portray, he waits a few minutes, his heart pounding and elbow grease beginning to run down his face like he ran a marathon carrying a 20 kg backpack. Fuck, it's getting hot and he feels nervous even before the actual deed ... FUCK ! He considers calling off the whole thing, that little piece of his tortured intellect begging him to not go through with it but before it can get any hold, he has his 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 turn over her humming AC unit and ventilation machines. Doesn't assist his nerves that it is hot as fuck, the live summertime on record for the preceding few years, and the effort begins staining his back already. Hearing the speech sound of her sweet representative chatting and laughing along to her family, he sits back and listens for a few moments, donning a balaclava so that her kinsperson will have no idea who he is. Heading over to the ventilating system 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 shaking hand over to the air matter, dropping it inside without a second thought.

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

opposite to some citizenry's experiences with time, the thirty passes as fast as the guy could reckon and without regret he smashes the windowpane by her backdoor with a brick. Ignoring the questions and shock from the video kinfolk, he reaches inside the shatter window and unlocks it, slipping inside and moving his way quickly to the"living room ”, in which she's video calling her kinfolk on the couch. for sure enough, the powder has dissipated and she lies completely passed out on the couch, wearing some plain jean and a t-shirt that left much to the imagination ... but he didn't need much to imagine, he's seen her raw hundreds of time. Pressing the deaf-mute button on their TV, he has a naughty persuasion and writes his name on a nearby gravel sheet of paper, showing it clear as day to the kinsfolk. As soon as his intent becomes clear, the menage is cleared of their youthful member, the men balling their fists, turning purple in madness as they shout muted menace of ferocity to the masked sneak. Some have their phones out, probably calling the police or something. Whatever the eccentric, Danielle is finally his.

His mouth salivating like a starved dog when it sees a T-Bone steak, he reaches his violently shaking hands around her, caressing her supple figure for the first time, leaving slimy lead of his own perspiration. She's always looked like a sleeping saint, someone too innocent for this world or the next. Whatever, the stalker is going to test to her that life sentence can get real to anyone really quickly. Flipping her upper side down, in a sec he has ripped the seat of her jeans in half, her plump ass cheeks bursting out of the tear. He fumbles a bit with his own pants, having to silently chastise himself for having such horrifying anxiety-shakes, but he nonetheless manages to get his pants bunched up around his ankles and his erecting rising. Before he thrusts himself into her, he spreads her ass apart until her motherfucker is clearly visible, surrounded by a"sea star"of slightly darker flesh. He plays with the inner facing of her ass a bit, tracing his digit around and darting into his fingerbreadth before withdrawing his finger's breadth. He doesn't dare smell his finger's breadth and instead rubs the scent all over his stopcock, using his prick ( now"lubed up"with her nasty ass scent ) to slap any piece of visible flesh on her dead body, including her face and subdivision. Now that he's actually doing it it seems really comfortable, like the homemade fleshlight he practiced on beforehand.

He lowers his font so that he's in line with her asscrack, diving his tongue into her mother fucker like Saddam bin Hussein at-Takriti's W.M.D. 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 same time he works his fingerbreadth deeper into her ass, burying his finger up to the knuckle in there. Yeah she's pretty dry, but he has always masturbated dry and there's no point in lubing up for her pleasure, what's even the head. Spelling her figure with his tongue as it licks her mother fucker, he spells her close name with his finger buried inside of her, a little fun side activity before the main issue. He looks down and sees that he has actually come without even being aware, the belittled Patrick White puddle already staining the floor. Not caring how baggy he leaves the offence aspect, it'll all be gone anyway, he uses his hand to cup almost of it, using it to literally slap her in the look so hard that he's afraid it might wake her up. early than a tiny, instinctive jerk, she settles back into sleep and he slack his own arsehole just a bit, cum seeping into her anterior naris as she breathes in his vitalizing kernel. The stalker admires his handiwork a bit before his cock is back to full hardness and he sticks it without a second opinion all the way into her ass. Probably a bad melodic theme, as he soon realizes the rationality why people always lube up. Yes he's stuck in her squeezing ass tunnel and it feels like nothing on this world, but he can't pull himself back out. His get-go attempt actually hurts, cutting the tip of his penis off from oxygen. Looking around frantically, he is the favorable guy on world as a small vial of Olea europaea oil sits on the nearby coffee mesa. Leaning over, his sweaty chest touching her back, he grabs the ampul and begins pouring it into her ass to let himself out. After initially seeming futile, he slowly starts to feel collapse and he allows himself to call back from her ass, pieces of shit from her internal depths clinging to his pecker. However, he stops from fully withdrawing himself, leaving just the principal buried in her, and, giving himself a import to emit, thrusts himself all the way back inside her. Thankfully, it's not so tight this metre and in a bit each thrust feels heavenly, her motherfucker having molded perfectly around his prick. He wishes this moment can last forever, but he knows it'll be cut short-change either by his incoming orgasm or the law. Whatever comes first, it doesn't stop him from rearranging her sand with no regard for her health, which is exactly what he's doing. Adding some twist in his driving force, he makes sure to explore her depths, eliciting a bit more pleasance 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 brace of air-sleeve, her infantry being lifted off the ground every clip he thrusts. Sliding his cock completely into her ass, he occasionally takes it out to slap her cheeks, spraying asshole patch all over her cheek and tornado. By the tenth min her totally ass was red from his slapping, the outer doughnut of her ass swollen and looking rightly abused ( her interior probably look the same ), but the overall fondness of this land keeps the stalker satisfied. In order to stop coming at this decimal point, he begins focusing on the random diddly-squat around her house : trying to count every single spell of paper from her job that she has left on the kitchen table, the several framed photos of her and her family, the pencils scattered about haphazardly next to her laptop. No matter what he does, he does have to founder into the primal urges eventually.

deciding to stay in her, he humps Danielle like a rabbit a few times, his pelvic arch bucking involuntarily into her. His vision blurred a bit by hallucinatory stars and letting out a guttural consonant groan that anyone else would surely see outside, he steels himself inside her as his cockhead wells up, shooting the maiden forget me drug deep into her ass. The rests 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 enjoy the minute much as he's pretty for certain that sirens are coming, so he picks up Danielle ( which isn't too unvoiced ) and carries her sleeping body back outside, laying her on the toilsome ground while he puts the final footmark of his plan into motion, taking out a small bottle of clear fluid. This is the net natural endowment from the disgrace pharmacist, what is essentially a container of homemade napalm. He walks into the house one finish meter, breathing in deeply the smell of the sex, waving one survive teasing cheerio to her fellowship and he pours the subject of the bottle out all around her kitchen, making trusted to turn on the range. With a picture of a mate, he makes for certain to already have a running start by the clip he tosses it on the napalm, the completely way going up and belching smoke. His eyes watering from the sobriety, he sweeps Danielle off her base and runs out of the house, in which a small crowd is beginning to gather. For all they know, he's just a relate neighbor who saved Danielle, you and I know the unscathed truth. Shrugging off the thanks and reassurances from the crowd, he runs up to a nearby ambulance, its enchantress screaming as he says a few word of honor to the paramedics. Realistically, she'll just be fine, she just might have walking exit for awhile. As the house goes up in a hell and he drinks a bottle of water, he sees her class's car outside. Giving one live expression back at his pretty, unconscious Danielle, he makes a mad dash towards his car, the next few seconds being a blur as he speeds off, watching the commotion in his rear vista mirror.

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