The Stalker Ch. 19

I woke later to the insistent chirping of my alarm clock, feeling a bit rested. Lisa's visit had made my day a little nicer, but I still felt guilty about what she and I had done. In a way, I'd taken advantage of her and at the same time, I felt as if, somehow, I'd cheated on Jennifer, although I wasn't quite sure why that was a problem since Jennifer had indicated no interest in resuming our affair.

I got up, took a shower, dried off, and changed the dressing on my shoulder wound. Then I got dressed and got my things ready to go to Jennifer's house. I was just headed out the door when the phone rang. I picked it up.

"Hi," Didi said, "I heard you got that guy off Jill's back."

"Yeah, it wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be," I replied.

"We going to be able to get together sometime soon?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said. "Roscoe has me working on another case. It looks like I'm going to be tied up nights for the foreseeable future."

"Damn," she said, sounding disappointed.

"I'm sorry," I said. "This case is the reason Roscoe stopped by the other morning."

"You going to call me when you're free?" she asked hopefully.

"I will," I said, but I knew as I said it that, if Jennifer showed any interest, there wasn't a lot of chance I'd be calling Didi again, delightful as she was.

"OK," Didi said. "Tell Roscoe I said he's a jerk."

"I will," I laughed. I put the phone down and headed out the door.

I drove to Jennifer's house and was let in by one of Roscoe's other operatives. I found Roscoe in the impromptu control center. He looked up at me and shook his head. "You didn't tell me you took a bullet last night," he said.

"Jesus, Roscoe, it's just a scratch," I replied. "Barely broke the skin. I will be putting the cost of a new sweater on my expense account, though."

Roscoe shook his head. "Cops called today," he said. "Seems like someone planted a phony bomb under Gleason's car in the parking garage where he works. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Phony bomb?" I said. "You mean like a few highway flares and an old alarm clock wired together?"

He grinned and shook his head. "Yeah, exactly like that," my employer said. "I thought I told you to go home and get some rest."

"I did get some rest," I said. "But I thought it might be a good idea if Gleason understood he was vulnerable, too. Apparently he didn't tell the cops about the other stuff."

"What other stuff?" he asked. "Just what the hell have you been up to?"

I told him about sticking the note on Gleason's back, and about trashing his apartment. By the time I was finished explaining what I'd done, he was roaring with laughter.

"Jesus, you sure as hell got a sick sense of humor," he chuckled. "You're really going to set him off doing this shit, you know that, don't you?"

"I sure hope so," I said. "I want him upset. If he's really pissed he's liable to make a mistake, then we have him."

"Yeah, but if he's running around like a loose cannon, he's liable to hurt our client," Roscoe said.

"I've been thinking about that," I said. "I have a couple more ideas, but it will involve getting Jennifer out of here for a few days."

"She hasn't been too big on getting out of her house," Roscoe replied. "She says she's not going to let him drive her out."

"I think we can convince her to go to a safe place if it means we can get this over," I said. "You think you can arrange a safe place for her while we do the stuff I've got in mind?"

"Why don't you tell me what you're thinking before I decide?" Roscoe said.

I explained what I planned to do and, as I did, Roscoe's eyes widened and he shook his head. "Damn, man, you could be putting yourself in serious danger," he said.

"Some," I admitted. "But the idea is to have enough backup and to stay on guard. I don't know who else you want to use, but for sure I want Moose in the house with me when we do the last part. You have people who can do the other?"

Roscoe thought for a moment, then he nodded. "Yeah, I think so," he said. "I know some people made some of those home-made porno flicks." His face changed as a thought occurred to him. "If this guy loses it like you hope he will, how we gonna keep him from nailing them with that damn rifle with the laser scope? The bedroom she uses has that balcony and those sliding glass doors, remember."

I smiled. "That's the easy part," I said. "I called a guy I know in the glass business today. He said he could get me some bullet resistant glazing material. He says unless the guy fires a rifle at it nearly point blank, nothing's going through it."

"When are you going to re-do the door?" Roscoe asked. "Tomorrow?"

"I told him to get the stuff and come over tonight," I said. "That fits in with the rest of my plan. He's going to help us get Jennifer out of here."

Roscoe smiled. "Jesus, you have been planning, haven't you?" he said. "Nice of you to include me in all this."

"I just did," I said. "Come on, let's tell Jennifer what we're planning, and have her get packed."

Jennifer wasn't too thrilled about the idea of having to leave her house, but she finally agreed when I explained that, if she did, it might help get Gleason off her back sooner. She began packing while Roscoe and I went downstairs.

"Where are you going to put her?" I asked him.

"Presidential suite, Jamestown Hotel," he replied. "I helped them work with the Secret Service to secure it up that time the President visited and the head of their security used to work with me. I think you know him. Vince Mahoney."

"Yeah, I sure do know Vince," I said. "He was one of the instructors in the police academy when I went through." I smiled. I couldn't imagine the gruff, grizzled cop I remembered as head of hotel security.

My glazier friend and his crew arrived about an hour and a half after I did. The material they put in the sliding doors that led from Jennifer's bedroom to the balcony outside it was actually some kind of super-tough plastic and was almost three inches thick."

"Like I said, unless this asshole you guys are dealing with uses a goddamn cannon, he's not shooting through this stuff," Maurice, the owner of the glass shop, said when he showed me the installation. "And the nice thing is, just looking at this stuff, you can't really tell it's special, you know?"

"Good job, Maurice," I said. "Now I have a favor to ask you."

"What's that?" he asked. He smiled. "Shit, after getting me a job that costs as much as this one does, I guess I owe you."

"I need the coveralls a couple of your men are wearing," I said. "And I need you to take Roscoe and the lady who owns this place out of here when you leave. We'll arrange to get your guys home a little later."

"No problem," he said.

Fifteen minutes later, Roscoe and Jennifer, were dressed in coveralls and caps from Maurice's shop, joined Maurice and three of the men he'd brought with him and left. After the glass shop van was out of sight, I called a cab to come for the two men Maurice had left behind.

I had just hung up the phone I was using when Jennifer's phone began to ring. The tape recorder Roscoe's technicians had attached to it clicked on, then the answering machine picked up. "This is Jennifer Wilkins," Jennifer's voice said. "I'm unable to answer the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number after the tone, I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

"You think you proved something today with that shit you did to me, you bitch?" an angry male voice said. "You didn't, you cunt! I've had it with you. I'm going to end this once and for all!" The phone went dead.

I smiled. "Well," I thought, "it looks like my plan is working. Raymond sounds a wee bit angry. And he didn't disguise his voice, either. Temper, Raymond, temper. Your temper's going to cause you problems."

I went back up to Jennifer's bedroom to check on the layout of the room. Working in only the moonlight coming in the windows, I moved some of the furniture around so the bed would be clearly visible through the sliding glass doors. That done, I went back downstairs, sat down at the electronic console, and listened to Raymond Gleason's angry message again. "You don't know it, Raymond, but your little game is over," I said to the empty room.

Roscoe called me on the secure line a little later to let me know he and Jennifer had arrived at the hotel all right. "Vince has assigned some of his men to keep an eye on us," he told me. "We've got the whole floor secure. How are things back there?"

"Our friend called," I said. "He didn't use the electronic device to alter his voice this time. I think he's upset."

"Watch your ass," Roscoe said. "What if he tries to do something tonight?"

"I won't let him," I said. "Actually, I'm going to turn off all of the inside lights and leave the house dark. That should make him wonder what's going on."

"Just be careful," Roscoe said. "I'll make sure we have the stuff ready for what you want to do tomorrow."

"Good enough," I said. "Take care, Roscoe. I'll see you in the morning."

"You watch your ass, too," he said.

After finishing my call with Roscoe, I turned off all the lights in the house, made sure the doors were locked and the security system was armed, then I went back to the control room, sat down, and mentally reviewed what we planned to do the next day. If it worked, it might upset Gleason enough to cause him to make a move. If he did, we had him.

As I sat there, my mind drifted. I recalled the night Jennifer surprised me by coming on to me at a party another woman I know was giving. For some reason I remembered another time a woman surprised me. It happened when I was in college. The woman's name was Katrina Margulies and she was the attractive young wife of one of my professors. A slim, attractive blonde, she was quite a bit younger than her husband, who happened to be my faculty advisor. None of the guys could figure out what she saw in Professor Margulies, and she always acted very cool and aloof toward us. We called her the "ice princess," because of the way she treated us.

Then, one night, I attended a reception the college was holding for a famous guest lecturer...

**********

I was leaving when I met Katrina coming out the back door. I was surprised when I realized she looked a little unsteady on her feet and stepped aside to avoid bumping into her. She kept coming and, when she was closer to me, she tripped and almost fell. I didn't want her to fall, so I grabbed her to keep her from falling.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Margulies?" I asked.

She sagged against me. "I'm fine, except it looks like, maybe, I had a wee bit too mush to drink," she muttered.

"It guess," I agreed. There I was, holding the drunk, attractive wife of one of my professors in my arms. I wasn't sure what Professor Margulies would say if he saw us and was worried. "Mrs. Margulies, can I help you find your husband?"

"He'sh not here," she replied. She hiccuped, then giggled. "He hadda go to a conferensh thish weekend, sho I came to the reshepshun by myshelf."

"I can't leave you like this. Is there something I can do for you?" I asked.

She peered up at me. "Could you be a nishe man and give me a ride home?" she asked.

"Ah...sure I-I guess so," I replied. I figured that was probably better than leaving her here and having the dean find her drunk. I slid my arm around her waist and lead her across the yard to where my car was parked. I had Camaro, which was pretty low-slung. Mrs. Margulies was wearing a loose ivory dress had that had black checks on it and buttons down the front. Some of the buttons were open and, as I struggled to get her into my car, I got to see a lot of her nicely-shaped legs.

When I finished fastening her seatbelt, I straightened up walked around the car and got in on the driver's side. I glanced over at Mrs. Margulies. She appeared to be sound asleep. She was even snoring a little bit. I started the engine, put the car in gear, and set off for the Margulies home.

As I drove down the street, I glanced over at Mrs. Margulies. She still seemed to be asleep. I'd only driven a short distance when a hand landed on my leg. Startled, I jumped, then I looked over and saw Mrs. Margulies' smiling face in the glow of the dashboard lights.

My professor's wife gave me a bright smile. "I fooled you, didn't I?" she said.

I was puzzled. She didn't sound drunk any more. "What do you mean?" I asked. I had no idea what was happening.

"You thought I was drunk, didn't you?" she replied, grinning. I noticed her voice had taken on a soft, inviting tone. The realization coupled with the fact that her hand was sliding up and down my leg, was causing things to happen. things I wasn't sure should happen with a professor's wife. Doing something like that could get me kicked out of college.

"You mean you...you aren't?" I said.

"All I had was one drink," she replied. "I figured it was the best way I could come up with to get you to take me home." As she spoke, she moved her hand up and touched my cock. "And I very much wanted you to do that."

"Mrs. Margulies, please!" I protested. My cock got stiffer and stiffer as her hand caressed it through my pants. I couldn't believe she was doing this to me!

"What's the matter?" she replied. "I've wanted a chance to be alone with you all year and I finally have one." She measured my swelling cock with her fingers. "And it sure does feel like what I thought about you is true!" She squeezed my swelling cock.

I pressed down on the accelerator. I wasn't sure how I was going to get out of this situation. Even more confusing was the fact that I wasn't sure I wanted to get out of it. As I continued driving toward the Margulies home, I did make an effort to figure out a way to put her off. But when she unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out of them I realized I was in serious trouble. the feelings roaring through me weren't about to be denied, professor's wife or not.

"Yeah!" she murmured as her small, soft hands moved up and down over my throbbing shaft. "It's big! I was hoping it would be."

The feelings Mrs. Margulies' caresses were sending through me made it hard for me to drive. I really had to force myself to concentrate. I had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel and had to strain to keep my eyes on the road. When Mrs. Margulies squeezed my erect organ, I groaned.

"What's the matter?" she asked, cupping my balls. "Did I hurt you?"

"Jesus, no!" I gasped. "You can't imagine how great that feels! It's just that I'm having a hard time driving!"

Mrs. Margulies smiled. "You just drive," she said, "I'll take care of this."

"Yeah, sure," I gasped. I continued to force my eyes to stay riveted to the road. I knew if I looked down at her, I'd be lost.

Although it was hard, I did manage to get to Katrina's house without crashing. The minute the car stopped in front of her garage, she slid out and started walking toward the house. I sat in the car for a few moments, trying to understand what was happening, and whether I should let tit continue. Finally, I got out of the car and, on wobbly legs, I followed professor's wife into the house. I was at the door before I realized I hadn't zipped up my pants. Mrs. Margulies had me way too turned on to think about doing anything but fucking her.

She stood at the front door of her home, waiting for me. "Are you having a problem walking?" she commented, smiling at me seductively. "Is that my fault?"

"You goddamn well know it is!" I exclaimed. I reached for her, but before I could grab her, she opened the door and disappeared into the house. I staggered into the house after her. I found her standing in her living room. The house was dark except for a small light somewhere which gave off just enough light so I could see her.

"I'm waiting for you," she purred as I stood there, looking at her. Her fingers opened the buttons down the front of her dress. Then she shrugged her shoulders and the dress slid down her body and floated to the floor. She was standing in front of me nude, save for a pair of lacy white high-cut bikinis.

I gaped at the gorgeous woman standing before me for a second, then I started toward her. I couldn't remember ever being more aroused.

Katrina grinned while she watched me lurch toward her. "You do want me, don't you?" she said softly.

"You're damn right I do!" I exclaimed. I picked her up, carried her to the sofa and dropped her on it. Then, with shaking hands, I fumbled open my pants and slid them down. With a groan, I fell on her. When I did, I felt her hands wrap around my erect cock and guide it to her opening.

"Yes! Give it to me! Give it to me!" Mrs. Margulies cried as I plunged into her. Her legs rose, locking behind mine, and her hips surged up against me, sucking my cock into her lean, lovely body.

"Take it, goddammit, take it!" I yelled. I was so beside himself with passion that it no longer mattered to me that I was fucking my professor's wife. I plunged into her wildly, my hips hammering against hers like a pile driver gone wild.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" Katrina whimpered as my body thudded against hers. The sofa creaked from the violence of our coupling. "Now! Now! Oh, shit! Oh, shit! I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come! Now! Now!" she cried. Her hands clawed at me and her lunged up to meet my thrusts. "Eeahh! Eeahh! Eeahh!"

"Augh!" I roared when I exploded into her, experiencing thrills I'd never dreamed I'd experience with the "Ice Princess."

When we finally finished, I was still on top of Mrs. Margulies. I lifted myself up and, panting, looked down at her pretty face.

She smiled up at me. "I knew you'd be good," she said. "I just knew you would be!"

I got off her and sat next to her on the sofa. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't believe I'd let this happen. Now what? What would Professor Margulies do if he found out I'd slept with his wife? Had I just ended my college career?

Katrina squirmed around and snuggled up to me. "Aren't you glad I got 'drunk' at the party?" she asked coyly. She began opening the buttons on my shirt.

I took her face in my hand and kissed her softly. "I-I...Mrs. Margulies, we...we shouldn't have done this," I said softly.

"I want you to call me Katrina," she said, continuing what she was doing. "And why shouldn't we have done it?" she asked. She had my shirt open, and her fingers were teasing my nipples. "Wasn't it good for you?"

"Ah...yeah...I...I...it was," I admitted. "It...it was incredible!" She was driving me crazy playing with my nipples!

"You don't have to go right away, do you?" Katrina asked.

My mind continued to whirl as Katrina's fingers moved over my bare chest, doing wild things to me. The next thing I knew, she was all over me, kissing me, tugging my clothes off. I had an idea I wouldn't be leaving for quite a while.

I stood up, bent, and picked Katrina up in my arms. "Where's the bedroom?" I croaked.

"It's down that hallway, there, second door on the right," she replied.

While she kissed me and caressed me, I carried her to the master bedroom, dropped her on the bed, and immediately fell between her legs, my mouth going to her pussy.

Katrina went wild. "Yeah, eat me! Suck my clit! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" she screamed while I punished her pussy with my lips, tongue and fingers. Her head rolled from side to side and she pulled at her nipples while I lashed her pussy with my tongue. I wanted to drive her crazy and, from the way she was reacting, it looked as if I was doing just that. As I ate her, I could feel my organ stiffening. I'd be ready to fuck her again soon, and planned to do so at least once more before I went home.

"Ayyee! I'm cumming! Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't stop!" Katrina cried, her exquisite body spasming. My head was caught in a trap of warm flesh when her legs tightened from her orgasm.