by Teresa Wolf
Its inconspicuousness makes the Honda Accord the perfect car for this road. It’s more or less empty, with a few people walking by, but no one turns an eye to me as I park across the street from Lizzy’s home. I get no funny looks or questions from anyone, even as get out and walk across the street, straight to the front door.
Of course, it’s locked – but having done this more than once, I know the back door isn’t. It’s been kicked in, no doubt by Doug, in a fit of rage after one of our… meetings. The musty house always makes me feel sick, and the kitchen is no different. The stovetop is caked in grime and muck, the floor has layers of dirt and dust, and fingerprint smudges stain the fridge door.
These people make me sick. How can they let a fucking princess live in this squalor?
After avoiding the filth in the kitchen as best I can, I step into the long hallway. I stand quietly; listening to make sure no one is home. Doug is the only person I really worry about. He had no drive or work ethic, so there is no certainty that he will be working his shift at the dock. The mother – I forget her name – has a pretty stable position as a grocery store manager. She leaves first thing in the morning and doesn’t arrive back until late evening, most days.
Then there is my sweet Lizzy.
I don’t want to waste time as I walk through the house. Not because I’m scared of any consequences of being found in there, but I am after my prize. I check two rooms on my way; one is the bathroom, and the other looks to be the parent’s bedroom. Far out, at the end of the hall, I know that last, closed-door will be hers.
Stepping in, I am pleasantly relieved to see that I am right. I know it is Lizzy’s based on the pink butterfly bed, the picture of her and a friend on her bedside table, and the heap of small tight-fitting clothes that wouldn’t fit the swollen mother.
This tiny bedroom is a paradise compared to the rest of the house. Clean, dusted, and apart from the clothes – no doubt to be washed when she gets in – it is pristine. There’s little in the room except for a small desk; no bigger than three feet across, with a laptop on it; a mirror behind it; a chest of drawers; and a slatted wall-mounted cupboard.
That small mountain of clothes is my paradise. I can see her bras and panties sticking through the different fabrics of her shirts, pants, and skirts. One pair, in particular, catches my attention. It’s a purple thong with a matching bra. The rest were all… plain and boring. Boy shorts, control briefs, and seamless panties made for form and function, rather than for looking good. I want that little purple set, and I take it. The fabric is soft, and even just feeling it between my fingers, makes my cock spring to life. Bringing it to my face, taking in a long, deep breath, I can smell her on it. It’s sweet, musky. As I pull it from the pile, my mind wanders to images of Lizzy wearing these. Standing on all fours, face turned away, her ass out. . .
“Is anyone home?” I hear Lizzy’s voice outside in the hallway.
Fuck. What’s she doing home so early? It’s not even two yet. I know Lizzy’s schedule; at least I thought I did. She only gets home at four. Looking around, there’s nowhere to hide but the cupboard. I dive into it, just in time as I hear her bedroom door swing open. I can see her through the slats.
She’s wearing a tight, pink tube top—the straps of her bra run along her shoulders—a black skirt, and pink knee-high socks. Her shoes were no doubt discarded at the front door, the same way they were the first time I saw her.
She huffs, and throws her bag down on the floor, before dropping onto her bed. She’s lying comfortably, especially with no one home. From my position in the cupboard, directly opposite her bed, I can see straight up her skirt, all the way to her inner thighs before the skirt covers more.
A whimper escapes my lips. A fuckin’ whimper!
I don’t know what comes over me; maybe it’s the danger, the excitement, or just the sheer thrill of watching her from the cupboard. I slide my hand down, unzipping my pants. I grab the pair of panties I stole from the pile, and wrap them around the head of my cock. My body shudders at the soft fabric’s touch. I don’t care about the danger, about being caught, about nothing right now. Slowly I stroke the fabric along the delicate tip.
Suddenly, Lizzy jumps off the bed and makes her way to the mirror. I can’t keep my eyes off of her even as they start to sting from not blinking this long. She leans in and touches her face. At this point, I’m stroking my shaft with her panties. But, my knees go weak as she bends forward to eye her face in the mirror. Her skirt lifts, and I get a full view of her bare ass, with only the thin rope of a G-string between it.
“Okay, time for a shower,” she mutters to herself.
I’m already fisting my cock as fast as I can without causing any noise.
Without warning, Lizzy drops her skirt and pulls her tube top over her head. Her smooth, silky skin is only covered now in the G-string and a boring black bra. But, on her, the set looks as if it could’ve been bought at Victoria’s Secret, and made to seduce any man she wants.
Unclasping her bra, her big tits bounce free, and I’ve got a front-row seat. She turns away from me, bending down as she drops her panties, almost as if she knows I’m watching. She’s cleanly shaven, at least from what I can see.
All I can think about is kicking open the cupboard door and stepping over to her now. About sticking my rock-hard cock inside of her – or better yet, dropping down to my hands and knees and running my tongue along that smooth skin. My mind is racing, my balls and manhood aching.
Her ass wobbles with every step she takes. She grabs a towel, hanging over a small desk chair beside the laptop. Just before she covers up, I shoot my load. Spurt after hot spurt of cum soaks into the purple panties wrapped around the tip. My knees buckle, and I almost collapse. I bite down hard, suppressing any moan that feverishly wants to escape.
By the time I look back out, she’s gone. Soon after, the noise of the shower starts.
It doesn’t pass me by, the thought that I could catch a sneaky peek of her wet body. The thought alone inspires another tingle in my softening manhood.
But, that’s too risky. Being here, jacking off in Lizzy’s cupboard is already risky. I shouldn’t push my luck. I get out of the closet, drop the pair of cum-soaked panties back in the pile, and grab the recently added G-string, instead.
Ducking out of the window, I near-run back to my Honda Accord.
My mind is racing with images of Lizzy’s naked body.
Chapter Four
Lizzy
Two weeks had passed since I had seen that handsome stranger hovering over my dad. Two weeks, where I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Those cold eyes, that chiseled jaw, and the way he held himself as if he was a God-damned king.
I asked Mary about him, but only once. I knew his name was Charles Barker, from a fight my mom and dad had had a little while after that meeting. Mary told me about Charles Barker, with a sly smile, a wink, and a nod; knowing that I was asking out of more than just curiosity. About the man, the tyrant, and the sexy monster that got my heart fluttering.
“Charles Barker rules this town. He runs the biggest casino in Fairhope and has a thousand people in his pocket. A thousand owe him more money than they’ll ever be able to pay back. He makes his fortune off the interest,” Mary explained.
So, he is a shark, and I am a little fish swimming in his pond. Everyone in Fairhope is, and Charles Barker has his pick of whatever he wants. I know that makes him dangerous, but why does the thought of danger not push me away? Why does it make my heart skip a beat and butterflies billow in my belly?
“Hey, honey,” Mom’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” I jump off the bed and rush to the door. She swings it open before I have a chance to get to it.
“I know it’s not much, but I got you something small for your birthday,” she replies. She has a small jewelry box in her hands. It’s beautiful dark blue, with a darker ribbon tying it up. She holds it out to me with a gleeful smile.
&
nbsp; “Mom, you didn’t have to,” I say. “I know how things are. You shouldn’t be spending money on me.”
“Well, when all the rest of my money goes towards your dad’s bullshit, I thought I could spend a little bit on you. You’re growing up so fast, baby. You deserve some nice things.”
Taking the box, I gulp. Tears are welling in my eyes.
Birthdays in the Stone household have never been anything special. Ever since I was a little girl, we have always just brushed birthdays over, to the point where I almost forget them.
This year is no different. I remembered in the morning, but by the time I got back from work, it is just another day.
“Go on, open it,” Mom insists.
I don’t keep her waiting. I tug on the box’s string and lift the lid. A little blue opal greets me, lying on a white pillow.
“Mom, it’s beautiful.” Tears well in my eyes.
“I wanted to get it for you on the big day last year. You know, eighteen is a special day in every girl’s life.”
I always thought it was sixteen. That’s what all the movies and TV shows tell me anyway. But, I let my mom talk without interruption.
“But you know how that all went.” She is referring to another one of my dad’s escapades, where he lost more money on an investment. “This time, I decided I was going to treat you.”
She reaches into the box and pulls the little opal out. “Turn around,” she says before wrapping it around my neck. She can’t contain the overloading emotion filling her. With a light tap on my shoulder, she says, “It looks perfect.”
I check it in the mirror. She isn’t wrong. The opal somehow accentuates my eyes and makes them shine brighter than I’ve ever seen them shine before.
“Who’s ready to party?” I hear my dad shout down the hall.
Mom steps out with a huff. “What are you talking about?” she asks.
“I just got a big win at the casino, baby. We can treat our special girl to a big night on the town.” Dad’s voice is slurring already.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at work? Where did you even get the money to gamble?” Mom sounds furious and ready to rip my dad’s head off.
“The casino,” he grumbles. “Old Charlie Barker put me forward.”
My heart fluttered at Charles’ name.
“Have you paid back all the other money that you owe him, then?”
“He hasn’t asked me for a cent in weeks…”
“That doesn’t mean he’s not going to. He’s sinking you into a black hole, and you’re not going to be able to get out of it.” I heard Mom’s anger in her voice. They speak freely in the hallway. Usually, they try to stay hush-hush about these things around me, but this time, I don’t think either of them cares.
“And why aren’t you talking to me about any of this? You keep taking the money, and you never give anything back. How can you be so careless, Douglas?”
“I had a big win. We can treat our little girl to a nice night in the town. Come on, Sammy. Let’s just drop it for one night.” Dad tried easing it up.
“No, we can’t. We don’t have the money for it. You’ve got too much to pay back; use your winnings for that instead.”
“Fuck,” Dad roars, and I hear a flat palm slamming against the wall. “Why do you always undermine me?”
Mom doesn’t speak this time. She only gives a little chuckle, and I heard her starting to walk off.
Dad stumbles into my bedroom and closes the door behind him.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that, Liz,” he sighs.
“It’s okay, Dad. Don’t worry about it,” I reply.
“My God, you’ve turned into a beautiful woman.” The way he looks at me makes me nervous. “I just wanted to give you a nice night out. You deserve it, what with all the hard work you’ve been putting into everything, lately.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I repeat.
“That’s a nice necklace,” he says, stepping closer. He reaches out, and takes the opal in his hand, eyeing it.
When he moves his hand away, he runs it down my breast, before dropping it at his side. Dad’s swaying on his feet. I can smell the stale stench of booze on his breath. He doesn’t speak, just looks me in the eyes.
“So pretty,” he mumbles.
“Look, Dad, I appreciate that you wanted to treat me tonight. But, you don’t have to. Mom’s right; we should put that money towards getting out of all the trouble we’re in, instead.” I speak intending to get him out of my room. The way his eyes are lingering on me makes me feel… uncomfortable.
Dad takes a step back, but his footing is off, and he stumbles forward. He connects with me, and both of us tumble onto the bed. Although he’s not a big man, he’s still bigger than I am and he’s got me pinned down in place. One of his hands lands between my legs.
He doesn’t make an effort to move it, or himself, away. His head is on my shoulder, and I hear a guttural noise escape his mouth as he smells my hair. My heart’s racing, and panic and fear are setting in.
“Wh…what are you doing?” I ask. My breathing is short and shallow.
“Nothing,” he mutters. “I fell.”
He still doesn’t try to get off of me. Only now, he starts moving his hand up and down my upper thigh. “I just want my little girl to be happy. I know what will make her happy.”
His voice is husky. His mouth is pressed against my neck. My entire body shudders, feeling his rough fingers on the inside of my legs.
“Do you want to feel good, baby?” he asks. “I can make you feel good. I can make all the pain go away and make you feel better than you ever have.”
I can’t speak. I am locked in place. I feel trapped, scared, and unable to escape.
“Douglas Stone, where the fuck have you gone?” Mom’s voice erupts from down the hall. Dad pulls himself off of me and falls onto the floor. I can’t help but recoil on the bed, and I pull my bedsheet over me, as tears well in my eyes. My heart is racing at a thousand miles an hour.
“I’m in here saying ‘happy birthday’ to my God damned daughter. What the hell do you want to shout about now?” Dad pulls himself to his feet. A trickle of blood comes from a small cut on his forehead.
He must’ve hit it falling off the bed. He doesn’t linger any longer, and steps through the door.
As soon as my bedroom door slams shut, I let out a deep sigh of relief. I don’t know where Dad was going; at least, I don’t want to believe I did. But, having him gone feels like a huge weight has been stripped off my shoulders.
I hear them shouting out in the hallway; my Mom still furious about him taking on more loans with others to pay.
Then Charles Barker pops into my head, and all my troubles seem to melt away, for the rest of my night,
I lose myself to thoughts and fantasies of him getting me out of this life.
Chapter Five
Charles
Enough is enough.
I’m tired of waiting for my prize, of sitting around with only a pair of Lizzy’s panties, and of throwing my money into Doug Stone’s hands and not getting anything for it. Thoughts of Lizzy consume my mind. Every waking second is full of her naked body. Her perfect body, the way her mouth would feel in a kiss, and how her cunt would feel while I ram it.
There’s a desire in my head that won’t be sated. The same sound flooded my brain on my race to become the top dog of Fairhope. Only getting what I want will quell this sensation. I want Lizzy Stone.
I have ditched the Honda Accord and tracksuit that made up a good part of my outfit, while following Lizzy around. Today, I am dressed in my best Tom Ford suit. A simple, charcoal-black ensemble, with a silver shirt and a black tie to finish. I’ve struck many a deal in this suit, before, and today will be no different.
Bruce and Percy Whitfield sit in the front seat of my limousine. I have them drive me to the Stone residence. They aren’t going to be a part of the negotiations; they are only there to look tough and show that I meant business. The thing
I like about the Whitfields is they don’t talk much. They know their roles and they stick to them.
I hate being so drawn to this woman. I’d never been so lost in my life, and it makes me furious. Soon enough, it’ll all be over, though. With the offer I’m going to present to her parents, there’s no way they will say no.
After my limo parks out front of Doug’s house, I get out, doing up my jacket’s top button. Percy and Bruce are close behind, and we walk up the rickety steps to the front door.
“Hey, Charli…Charle…Mister Barker,” Doug says, swinging the door open. “What brings you here?”
I can hear the nervousness in his voice. It gives me a sweet thrill, knowing he’s terrified.
“I heard you hit it big at the casino the other day . . .” I checked my watch for the date. Ever since I saw that bitch… fuck, I shouldn’t call her a bitch – ever since I saw Lizzy for the first time, days seem to have blurred into one another. It was the second, and I knew Doug got paid on the twenty-eighth. So, it all came together perfectly. “Thought I’d come by and have a little chat about our… debts.”
“Who’s at the door, Doug?” Samantha’s voice comes from somewhere inside the house. Her eyes go wide, and her jaw drops at the sight of me.
“Mister Barker. What brings you here?”
“Enough with the pleasantries,” I cut her off. “I’m not here to get my dick stroked. Your husband owes me a lot of money, Samantha, and it’s time I collected.”
“I fuckin’ told you this was going to happen,” she roars.
“Sammy, just go back to the kitchen and let me handle this,” Doug replies.
“No, no, I think Samantha should join us.” I nod to Bruce, and he grabs Doug by the shirt and pushes him aside. When the doorway’s clear, I step in and walk straight to the wicker chair, before collapsing into it.