The Sentinel Ch. 02

My Jack is such a wonderful man, really quite the catch, if that's important, but for me, it's the person. He is caring and giving, strong and gentle, much like you have described your Hank. And Jack is driven; the loss of his parents is largely to blame, but I feel some part of him just likes to win. I think he likes it out there on the edge, not really sure what will happen next but sure he will be able to deal with it. Yes, that's Jack.

And you...that's another story. I never thought I would say this about another woman and really mean it, but you're beautiful. You have a body a woman not only admires but is attracted to. I want you to understand and believe me when I say I have never done anything like this before. While it scares me at a level that I have trouble identifying, it also excites me at a level I recognize completely - lust. I want you, Jan. I want to share you with Jack and Hank. I want to feel your skin under my fingers, your lips touching mine, the swell of your nipples as I pinch softly. Jan, don't panic. I know it will be the first time for you, too, but I want to taste you, all of you. There, I said it. I wanted you to know. I don't want to beat around the bush. I want Jack to enjoy, and if I'm going to experience this for him, I want you to know. I want to experience it all.

I'm not planning on telling Jack. I'm only telling him I have a surprise for him. Are you telling Hank? I know he'll be tuning in, but will it be a surprise for him or will he know before hand?

Well, Jan, let me close with a warm hug - girl to girl but more than friends, and tell you I am very excited and will be looking forward to meeting you for the first time at the airport next Friday. I'll pick you up and have a room for you, well...if you feel you need your own room. If not, I have a much warmer place in bed with me.

Yours,

Lisa

Jack just sat there a minute staring at the screen. It became obvious; Lisa had met a woman named Jan and was planning on going to bed with her and from the looks of the letter - making love to her. Between the two letters, it seemed driven by a desire to please him, to give him something 'every man would love' that 'only she' could give him. At the same time, he could read a desire awakened in Lisa. She wanted to try it at least once, to find out. Jan was the only unusual contact Jack could find in her mail program, and the letter didn't have an address. But going back to the flower order, he was sure it was her, and there was her address.

Could she have done it? Hank? Had he discovered them and become enraged? But that didn't explain the other killings unless it had pushed him over the edge. A search of all folders yielded no other mention of the name or word 'Jan' in subject or text. Going through Lisa's address book gave no clues either. It seems she didn't have the address or at least, hadn't put it in yet. Thinking of the chat programs, he tried to open them and see who was on her buddy list before he realized no information could be given until he logged in on-line.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pond, but you'll have to put that away now. We're on final approach to L.A."

And so he had. There wasn't much he could do now, anyway. The real question was, did he go straight to a ticket counter and fly to Miami, or did he check into a hotel and investigate the P.O. Box as well as Lisa's buddy lists?

*****

It was so easy to do. With the electronic barrier, people felt somehow safer inviting you into their homes, their kitchens, onto their patios, and into their pools. People seemed to like the safe thrill of scanty clothing and intimate places when chatting on cam. No, no one could touch them, get close to them; there was no physical threat - well, none that they could see.

They would invite you into their bedrooms, and for some reason, the female chatters seemed to enjoy inviting you to the shower with them. They luxuriated in a nice, thick lather, their bodies glistening in the water as they knew you were looking on. They lavished in the idea that you, whoever you might be, were sitting in front of your own computer aroused, eyes glued to the monitor so you didn't miss a thing. They would lean out of the shower and glance at the monitor to see what comments you might type in - to see if you were playing the part of a tentative lover as they became more intimate with you than anyone else they'd known.

Sitting in the nest of filth and stench, the Sentinel watched her as she lathered between her legs - the Sentinel's own legs shifting, thighs tightening as the bather's hands lingered to play in the soap awhile. Turning to lean back into the shower spray, the Sentinel didn't breathe as her breasts came out, a beautiful profile against the white of the shower wall. With shampoo in a hand, white soap suds cascaded down her back, highlighting the shape of her ass while her eyes closed and her mouth opened to breath. The Sentinel suddenly felt completely alone with her - the smell of the soap and shampoo; the feel of the heat from the water; soap sliding on her skin beneath the Sentinel's fingers; her nipple, a hard bump that excited more with a touch.

Looking to the right, the Sentinel could see him. The two of them had been chatting for six months now, and there he sat, leaning back in his computer chair, pants around his ankles, t-shirt pushed up exposing his stomach as his hand moved up and down, squeezing his cock as he watched her shower. The Sentinel waited for the moment, looking from one cam window to the next, enjoying a certain power knowing no one else was watching them. No one else was sharing this moment. No one else had taken the time to know them as the Sentinel had, to be their friends, learn their secrets, and guess their passwords.

The Sentinel guarded the notebook as many would a wallet or purse; the scribbles and passwords were more important to the Sentinel than life itself. All carefully catalogued and ordered, the notebook would never be put on a machine where it might be hacked. The Sentinel had a world of people: parts of addresses, names of respective other halves, birthdays and anniversaries. All was given freely in public chat rooms; all was available with a little sleuthing, including most of the secret passwords that locked the world out and made this oh-so-public medium, private and safe - or so they all thought.

Then it happened. The man jerked and lifted his hips, a stream of white shooting onto his stomach. Looking quickly at the other cam, the Sentinel saw she was aware; she was participating as she looked out of the shower at her computer, one leg propped up on the edge of the shower tub while her hands worked frantically between her thighs, pushing, probing, sliding. The Sentinel could feel it now, soft and warm, yet hard as the lips were spread and her clit pressed. The Sentinel's breathing stopped, a small sound escaped the Sentinel's throat as the girl jerked her back, head going into the water, her fingers stiff on her thighs from the effort.

With a release of air and a sigh, the Sentinel thought, at last, something to push Monday Night Football out of first place. With that, another Kleenex fell to the floor.