Stalker and the Stalked Ep. 08

The next day at work I was very distracted and continued to try to remember events from the previous night. I was largely unsuccessful. She was now affecting my work and I couldn't allow both my work and personal life to be dominated in this way. I had to have some answers to the mysteries surrounding her - mysteries that were pulling me into some vortex that was only getting murkier. Yet, there was no way that I was going to simply let this go. I was heavily invested now.

The most recent game-changing questions in my mind centered on my inability to withstand the drink she had gotten me or whatever else it was during the evening. I felt like I had been drugged, but the feeling was not simply a sleeping pill type of sedation. The feeling, from what I could remember, was more of a sexual high that took control of my urges and consciousness. I remember being tremendously high and feeling like the sex experience with her was something unlike anything I had ever felt. It was like continuous orgasm. I wanted desperately to have that feeling with her again. It was all I could do not to touch myself there in the office. I realized I would be going back to her apartment again, tonight.

I remembered the newspaper accounts regarding her graveyard idol, Culpepper. "Secretive cult following ... encouraging various forms of sexual perversion and "expression"... cult members in an open sex community ... chemistry lab in basement of house ...clairvoyance ... psychic communications ..." These, come to think of it, would not be out of place for my mystery woman. Was she part of a long-standing or a somehow revived cult with Bo Culpepper as their Patriarch? My pulse was racing as these thoughts became more than conjecture in my mind. Also, what was the book left open on the stand in her living room? If I had been alone, I would have had a chance to examine it. Did she seduce me and drug me to keep those secrets and more, no doubt, hidden from my wandering eyes? Or did she want to draw me into this circle little by little?

My thoughts then flew from conspiracy theories directly to her sex. I was completely overcome by her sexual power. She had REAL sexual power. I found myself panting, just thinking about her. My memories flooded back to me. Her perfect breasts, her pretty moist pussy, and her lips. I closed up my desk and hurried home to prepare for tonight's maneuvers.

I was ready for anything tonight. I had decided that I'd just show up at her doorstep and beg like a puppy for more of what we had just experienced. Pathetic, yes. But I'd hoped that she'd gotten some pleasure out of our encounters, as well, and would be willing to explore a next episode with me. Who knows what she has planned (she definitely has some kind of plan—I simply cannot figure out what her motivation is or what her next move will be).

I'd seen that her apartment lights were on from the outside of her building, so I knew she was at home. I'd try the intercom again and see if she'd have me as a "drop-in" on the spur of the moment. As I approached the intercom and found the button for her unit, I noticed that there was no name in the little window next to her button. All of the other tenants had their names in that space, but not her. I was going to be unable to find out her name, other than to ask her for it. This scenario just kept piling oddities on top of oddities. The whole situation surrounding her was so intoxicatingly mysterious. I pressed the button.

She buzzed me through without a word and I was soon walking the hallways, heading for her door. I quickly clicked off several things that I wanted to view inside her apartment that might provide clues as to who the hell she was and what made her tick. The old book on the stand. A look at the titles of any other books that she had on her shelves. Maybe a quick run through of her bathroom to check on any hallucinagens in her medicine cabinet that I may have been given in my last visit (in my drink?) Any evidence anywhere that she may be cooking up her own drugs or potions. Maybe I'll even casually ask her of her interests and passions and see if she opens up to me about any portion of the "dark" side of her persona.

I knocked on her door. The door opened just far enough so that I saw a sliding chain preventing any further opening. She appeared at the narrow opening gap and greeted me, almost whispering. "Hello, David, I'm happy that you've stopped by. I must ask you to come back, however, in 30 minutes, as I'm not quite ready to receive you." she said. I could see her looking around the inside of her apartment, almost nervously glancing back and forth, before returning her look to me. Through the narrow opening of the door, I could see that she was not in her usual impeccable dress, but a rather ordinary—no, tattered camisole dress. Her hair was messy and she wore no makeup. I had caught her by surprise a bit (although I was certain that she knew that she had created an addict in me and that I might show up looking for her at any time).

Again, this was yet another odd situation to add to the list of strange encounters with her. I apologized for dropping in unannounced and told her that I'd give her some time and would see her again in a half-hour. She thanked me and abruptly looked behind her as she closed the door. It was only then that I noticed that I had not been bombarded by her signature fragrance (the scent that was part of my addiction with her). Come to think of it, there was a scent of incense emanating from her apartment. This was all so strange. On every occasion in which that I'd encountered this woman, she was confident, aloof, and firmly in control. This was the only time in which I'd seen her flustered, nervous (almost panicking), and ... underdressed. None of those elements had I ever expected to see in her. She wanted me back, however, and I would return to her in 30 minutes.

I thought I'd simply head out to the front lobby of her building, sit in a chair, play with my phone, and wait out the 30 minute period of time. Then I had another thought. If her distracted behavior was due to someone else being in her apartment with her and she did not want me to know, then that person would probably be exiting soon. I went to the lobby, but went out the door of her building entirely and walked around its perimeter to find an alternative exit. I expected that she'd tell whomever to "use the back door" and not risk walking past me in the front lobby.

Soon, I had located an exit in the alley behind the building and I settled myself into a niche of another building across from that exit where I couldn't be seen easily. The "exiting soon" period happened quickly, as I had expected, when the door opened and an individual that I believed to be a man came out of the building and moved away from me down the alley. He was wearing a black hooded jacket and had what looked to be a full and heavy laundry bag slung over his shoulder, weighing him down. Should I follow him? Was he even connected with my Mystery Woman, at all? I took a few mobile phone pics as he walked away, but felt that I should let him go. I stayed where I was to make sure that no one else exited without my seeing them. I also decided that I'd be intentionally late for my 30 minute appointment to make absolutely certain that this guy was the only individual exiting.

I re-entered through the front lobby entrance and was buzzed through the locked doors and walked toward her apartment. I realized that I was feeling no rush of the anticipated sexual excitement that I normally felt. I was focused on learning more of this increasingly complex and confusing woman and her situation. At this point, I was feeling surprisingly unaffected by the prospects of her sexuality. This mindset would help me tonight—help me to keep a clear head and remain in control of myself.

She met me with the door to her apartment wide open looking supremely seductive. She wore a black head to toe bodysuit with full arms and legs...and crotchless. She had heavy eye shadow and creamy red lipstick. She looked like a fleshed out vision of sex wrapped in a skin tight catsuit. The mindset that I believed I had that would allow me to distance myself from her allure would be severely tested tonight! As she beckoned me inside, I tried to make mental notes of as much of her surroundings as I could, so as to unravel things later. She and her apartment were, once again, bathed in her personal fragrance—the one to which I had become addicted. I did also detect the incense smell that I noted earlier. The lighting in her apartment was lowered and intimate. It was all perfect for my seduction. Could I withstand her this time?

She purred to me that she was excited to have me there with her and that she needed to consume me tonight. I told her that I would have to wait for that, as my first intent was to find a money clip that I believed I had left here on an earlier visit by mistake. I had been searching everywhere for it and thought it might be here in her apartment somewhere. "Business before pleasure, my darling...", I said and I began to wander around the room looking for clues. She made an objection, insisting that the money clip was not in her apartment, but I was keen to find whatever I could find before things got too hot.

There was the old book on the stand. I glanced at it and noticed it was open with a ribbon bookmark and a handwritten date - today's date in the year 1918...that was 100 years ago EXACTLY. I didn't want to draw any attention to the fact that I was noticing this diary, or whatever it was, so I moved my glance to other things, but I did notice that at the bottom of the open page was an old red/brown stain, like a finger's smear of...blood?

As I looked at other things, I could sense her uneasiness mounting. She tried again to convince me to come into the bedroom with her, claiming that the clip may be there, swept under the bed. Instead, I turned and walked toward the kitchen. She immediately reacted. "There's nothing to see in the kitchen, darling. Come with me to the bedroom?", and she grabbed my hand and tugged me in that direction. I did have a chance to see into the kitchen, however, and saw what appeared to be a pile of knives of all sorts in the sink ready to be washed up. There had to be 15 or 20 knives of all kinds there. Then I saw on the floor a leather roll-up pouch used to store and protect sharp knives. "No, we never ventured into the kitchen. The only possibility for that clip would be in the bedroom", she said as she tugged on my arm, pulling me away from the kitchen.

"C'mon, baby, I'm so horny for you!", she said as she looked into my eyes and kissed me deeply. Mmmm, her kisses were like heaven. I definitely had the feeling that she was hiding something—perhaps quite a bit—from me. Her kisses were intoxicating, however. I just didn't know what I was looking for. I was looking for anything, I guess, to provide something tangible for me to use in investigating the evolving mystery of this woman. Mmmm, this woman... was supremely sexy and...

I was being led down the hallway. The smell of her bedroom, her fragrance, hung in the air. She kissed me deeply at the doorway to her room, the doorway to her sex. I wanted more of her lips. I wanted to kiss her continually as she walked me over to her bed, clothed in white satin sheets. Her tongue was inside me, searching my lips and mouth. Her creamy lips were all over me. I couldn't resist her, now.

Within seconds she had my shirt over my head and was undoing my belt and jeans. My cock was swollen and throbbing at this point. She backed away and looked at me—looked at my cock pressing against the inside of my briefs, weeping pre-cum. She then said, " I know what will get you going...", and she took a pot of lip gloss from her dresser drawer. She looked gorgeous in her tight fitting catsuit. It was all I could do to simply stand there and let her direct the action. I wanted to grab her and throw her down into the bed and fuck her right there and then. Fuck her completely—to put her to the sword. But I let her take the next set of moves.

She looked right into my eyes and smeared more red lip gloss onto her moist lips. She knew where to set the hook into me! My cock and loins reacted to the sight of her applying her lipstick. I immediately felt myself swelling and throbbing. I couldn't not watch her - her finger sliding across her lips swirling lipstick onto herself - slowly stroking smoothly over her moist shiny lips - her tongue now cleaning up around the margins - preparing herself for the assault that would be her wanton hungry kisses. She set the lipstick aside, faced me and slid my briefs down, freeing my cock from its confinement. Her hand cradled me underneath my shaft and slid up to feel and smear the pre-cum that was running down from my head. She raised her hand to her tongue, tasting my wetness, and then dropped to her knees in front of me.

She parted her creamy lips slightly and then slid them slowly over the head of my cock. The sensation for me was intense! Her lips were swallowing me, lubricated in a smear of creamy lipstick. As she slid over me, surrounding me, she started to moan. Her lips and moans set off small vibrations surrounding my cock. Every inch of me was alive, aroused, and throbbing. She carefully backed away and then pushed herself back onto my cock, her lips painting me in lipstick as she went. My dick was now the color of her lips and she began to suck me in earnest. I'd never had anything so sexually arousing. She was so intent on drawing the sex out of me - sucking all of me into her mouth - seducing my cock so as to make it impossible for me to resist unloading into her.

Then, suddenly, she pushed me back onto the bed and mounted me - slowly pushing herself down around the shaft that stood up hard for her - sliding into the opening in her crotchless catsuit. I could feel her sliding down onto me, the lipstick that coated my cock greasing the engagement of her tight pussy around me. She looked down into my eyes as she started her cycles of compression and retraction - her body rising and driving down. She was fucking me with desperation, now! I met her with thrusts from down below, stretching up and into her as deeply as I could. Her moaning became cries and gasps, this prompting me to pump even harder in to her. Up! Deep! Up! DEEEEP! My cock and loins were throbbing and screaming for release. She leaned over and kissed me again, my head fogging again I got another irresistible rush of pleasure from her moist lips. She had me completely in her control, again.

My eyes rolled back in my head and I blew everything I had into her - cumming in an explosive wave of pleasure.

"Oh, no", I said to myself. I was shaking off heavy sleepiness as I'd just cracked my eyes open to find myself back in my bedroom. It had happened again.

I had no idea what had happened in my life between experiencing the intensity of her sexual assualt and waking up in my own bed, a mile or so from her apartment. I must have passed out and...I just had no idea how I wound up back here.

I was in a daze, but shook myself into semi-consciousness to take stock of myself. I was naked, clothes were in a heap next to my bed-piled there on top of my shoes (my clothes from last night?) Then I noticed my skin. It was faintly smeared with lipstick here and there, as if from kisses. My nipples were particularly smeared in red residue. Then, I caught a glimpse of my cock. It wasn't simply smeared red, it was painted red. There was lipstick from its base to its tip. I was kind of creeped out, but then felt really turned on.

I remembered our love-making laat night up until my orgasm, but things were a complete blur after that. If it was my lover that had painted her lip cream all over me, I've never experienced anything remotely like this. She had some supreme lipstick fetish and I, now, had one, as well—at least for her. Just thinking about her made me hard and imagining her lips started my pre-cum flowing. Walking into the bathroom, I saw some smearings on my back. Turning around, in the mirror I saw something written on my back...in her lipstick. "YOU ARE MINE" was slathered across my shoulder blades.

Then I glanced at the clock. It was 11:20am. I had slept clear through the start of my work day. I must have really been out of it! Beads of sweat jumped up on my forehead as I panicked and hastily threw on my business attire, brushed my teeth and hair, and sped off to my office. Awkward apologies to work members and, fortunately nothing vitally important missed, and I got me through the rest of my day actually charged up, with some real accomplishments made. It was very interesting how vital I felt that day. I blew em' away during my afternoon!

I spent the evening taking stock of everything. Embarassingly, I still had not asked her name—and she had not offered it. I still cannot explain the blackouts and how I must have gotten myself (or had been escorted) back home to my bed. Also, the time that I surprised her and she hurriedly shooed me away for a while was very strange. There are just so many unnatural occurrences and so much mystery surrounding this woman. By engaging with her in a romance (if that's what one might call it), I really felt like I was entering a dangerous vortex of sorts. There was no way that I was going to back away, however. I was fully invested in her!