by Keta Kendric
I’d never have to work another day in my life, but I’d trade every cent I had inherited for a normal, worry-free life. Writing had always been a secret hobby of mine. When you spent years locked away inside a nut house, you had to find an outlet or face losing your mind completely. Writing was also the one thing that kept me company in the lonely and sometimes dreary life I’d taken on after my husband’s death.
After a seven-mile run, I ignored the elevator and hiked up my stairs to my third-floor condo, making my legs burn a little bit longer before relaxing.
When I entered my apartment, a strange awareness overtook me—a sense that I was being watched. A distant view of the ocean met me after I’d walked over to my window and stood. I did the same at my side windows, which gave me a view of my neighbors in the condo complex next to mine. We weren’t in high rises. The tallest building around the area went up to the fourth floor, giving the area a more laid-back look versus that of a city.
After my shower, I sat in front of my laptop and started working on my latest book again, but that sense of being watched climbed onto my back and weighed me down. There were eyes on me. I sensed them and couldn’t shake them.
I ambled over and stood at my bedroom window for minutes. Was I being watched or was I being paranoid? My neighbor, Mr. Hancock, in the next set of condos across the way, liked to people watch through binoculars, but I couldn’t see him. The couple on the fourth floor were on their balcony, but they were damn near fucking each other out in public, so they didn’t have time to watch me.
The nagging feeling that I was being watched, lingered. I beat the feeling back. I’d been careful. I was safe. I was locked inside my condo, minding my own business. No one was watching me. It was my twisted mind dredging up ghosts that weren’t there. So, why wasn’t that feeling going away? Why couldn’t I make it go away?
11 Aaron
It took less than ten minutes to the get the information I needed from the lady at the mail delivery place. Initially, she had stuck to her guns about protecting her customer’s privacy—even after I’d flashed her my fake badge.
After she saw Megan’s picture, I was convinced she knew her or had at least seen her, so I used my bad-boy charm to pry the information out of her.
Thank God, I didn’t have to use my dick on her. The woman was so sexually starved that I made her cum in less than two minutes by dry rubbing her pussy through her panties after I’d reached under her skirt without her permission. It was a good thing I did it too because she knew exactly who Megan was.
She didn’t give me her address, but she provided the name of the condos Megan lived in, which happened to be only a few blocks and turns from the office location. The woman was kind enough to offer to go with me, and I didn’t know if it was for concern for her customer or concern that she wouldn’t see me again.
I turned her down because it took everything in me not to knock her out and tie her up. One, for making me finger fuck her for information and two, she was a loose end who could have warned Megan that I was searching for her. Before I stepped out of her office, I turned and reminded her about the date we had set in a few days—a date that I had no intention of keeping. Hell, I’d already forgotten the women’s name.
Hopefully, I’d have Megan’s ass and be gone by the time she realized I had no intention of going out or doing anything with her.
Hours later, I’d located Megan’s condo, and I’d broken into two different condos to find the one that gave me the best view of Megan’s. I hadn’t seen her yet, but I’d confirmed that she lived on the third floor after flirting the information out of the lady in their administrative office on the first floor.
My faked interest in the rental they had coming available had gotten me a sit-down with the manager. Thankfully for me, the woman, like most of the ones that presented a good-girl image, loved a bad boy, which, for me so far, had worked well in helping me find the woman that I wanted to murder.
The third-floor condo I visited across a narrow street from Megan’s provided the best view of not only her bedroom but a side view of her living room as well. Unfortunately, I’d had to tie up the older man that lived there. Hancock, he said his name was. I tied him to his bathroom sink so I could use his apartment to spy on Megan.
When I spotted Megan stretching for a run on the narrow street in front of her building that evening, every muscle in my body tensed and threatened to rip apart. Although murder had been on my mind for days, my finger stayed clear of the trigger as I spied on her through the scope of my rifle.
She appeared comfortable and relaxed like she didn’t have a care in the world. She didn’t look like the type of woman who would trick an entire MC and commit murder with no remorse.
Was she a serial killer, a sociopath, or both? Had she used us to further her writing career or had she used us to add to her body count? All I knew was that Megan was worse than any of us. A fucking female menace with a weapon we hadn’t been able to fight against—her pussy.
She wore a pair of red and black spandex jogging pants that stopped below her knees and highlighted the fact that she had a fucking ridiculously fit body. Her sleeveless gray tank top matched her gray tennis shoes. The top stretched across her perfect tits and hung loosely at her small waist.
My tongue licked across my lips when she bent to stretch, and I cursed myself when my dick moved inside my pants. That short glimpse of her had my dick getting hard.
It took me a moment to relax and think about how I wanted to handle this. What was I going to do to her first? I was thinking of torturing her before I killed her. I had only killed one woman to date, but this one? I could hardly wait to kill her. She’d taken my rage to a whole new level.
Gripping Mr. Hancock’s binoculars in one hand, I continued to spy on her through the scope of my rifle that I’d set up on the man’s table. My spying gaze followed her as she took off on her run, and my damn eyes didn’t lower until she was out of sight.
I stayed clear of the windows. These people pretended they weren’t nosey, but they clung to those windows and balconies, spying and peeking at any little thing that moved.
I set up and angled my spying devices so that I could view inside Megan’s condo from within the dark interior of Mr. Hancock’s. After sliding his couch into the perfect spot, I stayed within the depth of the condo to conceal myself from Megan’s view. At the same time, the location allowed me to see her move around inside her place.
My scope gave me a view of her living room and bedroom and sitting on Mr. Hancock’s couch with the binoculars provided me a view of her living room, but an even better view of her bedroom.
I alternated between sitting behind my scope one minute and returning to the couch and binoculars the next as I waited on her. I was still undecided about how I wanted to handle her and this situation, so I relied on my patience and waited.
My body eased up off the couch cushion when she entered her living room. I trekked over to the table with the binoculars in my hand. After I placed my eye behind the scope, I pivoted my weapon around on its tripod to keep my eyes on her every move.
Sweat glistened on her golden-brown skin as she stepped across her living room stretching her arms. She stopped and turned in my direction like she sensed me watching her. The dwindling sun painted the sky a dim shade of gray that aided in keeping her from spotting me.
She took a step closer to the large stretch of windows that lined her living room and scanned the area outside her place. Again, her eyes seemed to stop directly on me like she knew I was there watching her.
Why the fuck hadn’t I pulled the trigger yet? When she stepped away and entered her bedroom, I swiveled my scope to find her. She peeled off her top and started on her pants. Like in the living room, she stopped again. Her fingers remained looped in the waist of her pants as she walked up to her bedroom window in her black sports bra. Her neck twisted in several directions, up and down before her gaze locked on the lens of my scope.
She knew t
hat someone was watching her. However, she had no idea it was the devil she’d pissed off. I should have killed her the moment I confirmed it was her. But now, I was stuck watching her, unsure of why I hadn’t made a move yet.
After a while, she left the interior of her bedroom and entered what must have been the bathroom. I was sitting on the couch, waiting when she returned. The floor level of her building was slightly taller than Mr. Hancock’s, so her third-floor condo sat a couple of feet higher.
I squinted into the binoculars, eager for the blurring lenses to focus before I missed something.
She’d put on a pair of cut-off jean shorts and the points of her tits strained against the thin white top she wore. I continued to watch her as she came right back to the window, blindly watching me. She opened her curtains wider and turned back towards her bed.
She glanced back over her shoulder and smiled in my direction, proof that she knew she was being watched. I glanced around my area, ensuring she couldn’t see me. The darkened interior of the apartment shielded me. I had the couch pulled up close to the window, but I’d done this on enough occasions that I knew how to position myself not to get caught. How the fuck did she know she was being watched?
This was the first time that anyone had noticed or sensed me watching them. Maybe crazy people sensed other crazy people. It was also proof that she was much more than the innocent writer she had presented herself to be. She was as much a predator as I was, but I had to remind myself that I was there to make sure she never preyed on anyone else.
Her wet flowing curls clung to her shoulders and neck. Her skin glowed with a just-out-of-the-shower, dewy mist. It irked me that I couldn’t stop watching her. That even as I wanted to kill her, my mouth watered to taste her on my tongue and make her cry out my name as I fucked her. She stared in my direction until her eyes stopped near where I was sitting.
I see you, you evil little cunt. You know that I’m watching you. Wait until I get my hands on your ass. My mind said one thing, but my fucking body did another.
Megan’s eyes remained in my direction, but they didn’t quite settle on me. What she did next set my blood to a slow boil. She sat on the edge of her bed and started fondling herself as she continued to glance in my direction.
She spread her legs wide and let her hand slide over her pussy, fingering herself over her cut-off jeans. Her body moved against her fingers, giving me a show, making me hotter with every touch. My dick betrayed me again, hardening the moment she’d let her hand slide between her legs.
Her busy fingers popped the button on her shorts and slid the zipper down before she slipped her hand inside. As she played with herself, she adjusted her eyes so that it appeared she was looking directly at me. After extracting her glistening fingers, she licked them with a slow upward stroke of her hot tongue.
When she scooted to the edge of the bed and started to lower her pants, my breath hitched before my tongue slid across my lips. I shook my head, hoping she wasn’t about to do what I thought she was about to do. She turned her back to me as she worked her shorts down, giving me a good view of that plump, sweet ass of hers.
Positioning herself back on the edge of the bed, one of her legs dangled over the side, and the other stayed atop the bedding, spread wide enough that I could see parts of her tempting pussy behind the shear purple underwear she kept on. Her middle finger snaked up her stomach before she slipped it into her mouth and licked it, getting it wet for what she was about to do.
Once she made a show of licking that finger, she reached down and slipped her panties to the side. She spread her lower lips so that I could see the pink inside her pussy. I salivated at the sight and couldn’t swallow fast enough to stop the flow. So much blood rushed to my dick, I was afraid it might explode. While her pointer finger and ring finger held her pussy open, she let her middle finger circle her clit. At the sight of the visual stimulation she showcased, I couldn’t stop my hand from sliding over the hard line of my dick.
When she slipped her middle finger inside and rolled her body against her hand, my dick throbbed, and lust started to consume my mind. I wanted nothing more than to go over there and fuck her brains out, but I was not ready for her to see me yet. I hadn’t come up with a solid plan on how or where I was going take her to torture and kill her.
She extracted her finger and now had two fingers snaking up her stomach and making their way to her hot wet tongue. God, her tongue and soft lips had felt so damn good sliding up and down my dick. It was so fucking wet and hot. She knew how to use that dirty, quiet, little tongue of hers so well. I ached to have it on any part of my flesh that was now burning with desire as I was unable to stop myself from watching her.
She sucked her fingers as her pussy danced for me, glistening with her wetness. She reached down and massaged her clit before sliding in the agile fingers she’d wet. The sight of such a sinful display made my dick jump in my hand. I couldn’t control my breathing anymore as I undid my belt, button, and zipper with quick, anxious movements.
I reached into my pants and gripped my dick, no longer able to just watch. Her actions had depleted my resolve to resist her tempting show. Precum slipped from my tip as I stroked my dick—watching her, watch me, as I fantasized about being inside her tight walls.
She spread her legs wider, and it gave me an even better view of exactly how well she was fingering herself. She slipped her middle and ring finger in and out of her pussy faster as she twirled her body in a way that flashed the top and bottom view of her. She worked herself closer to orgasm but stopped abruptly to let three fingers slide up her stomach. I knew what was coming next and started stroking my dick faster.
Repeating her actions with three fingers, she licked her juices from the one’s she’d wet, making me want a taste. I would have liked nothing more than to feast on her. The idea of it made me sink my teeth into my bottom lip after my tongue slid across it.
When she eased her fingers out of her mouth, she sent them back on the journey to explore herself, and I released a deep exhale as my eyes widened in excitement. She shoved those three wet fingers into her pussy, working them in and out. It took everything in me: willpower, determination, and drive, not to cum on the spot or get up and go over there.
My dick was so hard it started to ache, and all I could do to calm it was stroke it faster when she started thrusting and moving faster.
She was close. I could see it as her body started to shake and she drove her fingers in more urgently. I couldn’t take it anymore. The moment her lush lips dropped apart, and she started to fuck herself wildly, I lost it.
Watching her cum had gotten me there as a stream of cum shot out and landed on the floor before me. Another hot shot sprayed all over Mr. Hancock’s couch. Some even drizzled down my fingers as the fucking binoculars shook in my trembling hand because I refused to let them drop away from the sight of her.
Megan let her head fall back as she continued to stroke her pussy that was so wet at this point, I could see that her juices had dripped down to her pale blue spread. She sat there staring at me before she got up and snatched her curtains closed.
I let the binoculars drop from my shaking hand, but my semi-hard dick remained wrapped in the cupped fist of my other hand. My urge to fuck Megan grew so intense, I had to close my eyes for a moment and meditate to get my breathing back under control. I pictured the storyteller’s droopy tits, hoping that image would calm me down, but it didn’t work. All the images of Megan fucking herself flooded my brain and caused a massive amount of lust to course through my body.
This was an embarrassing first for me. First, I’d failed to kill my target. Then, I’d sat there and got off on watching her fuck herself. Now, my fucking body and mind were in a battle over the next move I was going to make.
It took much more than meditation to get my dick to stop throbbing. Not even the thought of how she’d tricked me or my MC had gotten my mind under control.
For once, I agreed with my father. “She’s
fucked my head up,” I mumbled to myself before slamming my eyes shut. I struggled to concentrate on why I was truly there because the last thing I wanted to do right at this moment was kill her. All I could concentrate on was how good it would feel to fuck her.
12 Megan
Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten myself off in the window like that because I couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron. Shit, my crazy ass even wished it were him watching me. Instead, it was likely creepy old Mr. Hancock.
His old butt probably got off on watching me. I may have even given his ass a heart attack.
Since he was so damned nosey, he damn sure saw a hell of a lot of me and was likely on peeping-Tom overload after my scene.
A cool shower after my display and writing until my fingers started to ache hadn’t done any good to help me sleep. I couldn’t find peace. My nerves were on edge, and an anxious, paranoid feeling had been riding me all day. I couldn’t stop peeking out of my damn windows.
I was glad I’d made plans to move because every time I started to feel like this, something crazy happened. After peeing and washing my hands, I sat on the edge of my bed. Thoughts of Aaron plagued me. His face flashed across my mind and caused my nipples to tighten and my pussy to throb with a level of expectancy that wouldn’t be satisfied. Goose bumps rose on various parts of my body at times when it felt like the phantom touch of his hands had stroked me.
The man had a fucking hold on me that I couldn’t shake. When I was with him, he had me open for him so badly that I was ready to do all types of sinful sexual acts.