Sex Stalker 2
Exposed
Darren G. Burton
Published by Darren G. Burton at Smashwords
Copyright © 2010 Darren G. Burton
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Sex Stalker 2: Exposed
More than two weeks had passed since Ryan’s night time rendezvous with M in the Red Lion Motel. It was Monday afternoon and he’d just completed another riveting day at the office where he worked as a financial advisor.
God, my job is boring, he thought somewhat dismally as he approached his car in the parking lot.
As had become a ritual of late, he ripped his tie off and tossed it and his briefcase into the back seat of his black BMW. He undid the top button of his business shirt and instantly felt less constricted.
“I must think about a career change,” he mumbled to himself.
Before getting in behind the wheel, Ryan checked his windscreen to see if M had left any more notes under the wiper blades. There was nothing. Feeling dejected, he got into the car, inserted the key and fired the engine to life.
He hadn’t heard a single word from her since that saucy night in the motel outside of town. They’d had great sex, sure, but it wasn’t so much the excitement of the sex that he missed. It was the attention he craved the most. Even though M was shrouded in mystery and he still had no idea who she really was, he’d enjoyed the game she’d been playing with him.
After being asked to wear a blindfold before entering a pitch black motel room, M had disappeared in the night while Ryan was asleep. He’d never even gotten to see her face. She had simply been a sensual shadow in the darkness of the room.
So. Was she finished with me now? he wondered as he drove through heavy city traffic. Had she completed her mission after fucking my brains out that Saturday night? Was that all she’d desired? One night of anonymous sex?
He missed the game. He missed the attention and he missed her.
Whomever she was.
Twenty sets of traffic lights and thirty minutes later, Ryan turned into his street, drove for another hundred metres or so, then turned left into the driveway of his single storey, three bedroom home.
The sun had dropped behind the horizon now as he got out of the car and checked the mailbox. Inside he found the usual array of flyers, pamphlets and brochures, beneath which was the real mail. Pulling the stack out, he closed the mailbox and caught a flash of something way off in the distance. He thought it may have been lightning, but he wasn’t sure. There was a bank of clouds building out there.
Once inside the house he went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. After dumping sugar and instant coffee into a mug, Ryan went through the mail while waiting for the kettle to boil. Carefully he filtered through the pile of junk mail, flipping through every page. He then flipped through the regular mail. He didn’t open any, just checked that there weren’t any scraps of notepaper sandwiched between the envelopes.
When he found nothing, he felt instantly more depressed.
What he was hoping to find was a note from M. She’d placed them in his mailbox before, but there had been nothing for weeks.
The kettle switched off when it reached boiling point. Ryan diverted his attention away from the mail and finished making his coffee. A dash of milk was added, then he took the steaming mug out back onto the patio. Before settling down with it, he ducked inside again and switched his computer on, giving the beast plenty of time to boot up while he drank his coffee.
Might be time to upgrade that old dinosaur, he thought as he settled into a chair beside a glass top table. His computer was only four years old, but that was approaching middle-age in the fast-advancing world of technology.
He drank some coffee, then went through the assortment of bills he’d pulled from the mailbox. The usual. Phone bill. Electricity. Two credit card bills. It was weird, he thought, how bills all seemed to arrive at the same time.
It was now fully dark. The night air was warm and quite muggy. As Ryan sipped his hot brew he gazed up at the sky, where the stars were gradually being swallowed up by the advancing cloud bank. Lightning rippled through the dark clouds, making them glow in shades of light gray, dark gray and silver blue. A distant rumble of thunder reached his ears. The storm was still a fair way off.
He got up from the chair and went back into the house to search the refrigerator for something to eat. Ryan put together a simple sandwich of cheese and tomato, topped off with a smear of mayonnaise. After making another coffee, he took that and his sandwich over to the computer desk and sat down in the swivel chair. He bit into his sandwich and washed it down with a mouthful of hot coffee.
When he checked his emails, he first scanned the messages in his Inbox. Nothing of interest there. Ryan took another bite of his sandwich and then clicked on the Junk Mail folder. After a brief glance over the messages, he selected them all and hit delete. Then he leaned back in his chair and finished his sandwich while staring at the computer screen.
He had been hoping there might be a Facebook message from M, like he’d been receiving several weeks ago.
Feeling somewhat disappointed yet again, he dumped his plate and empty coffee mug in the kitchen sink and decided to go take a shower.
After soaping himself up and letting the warm water run down his face and body in rivers, Ryan’s mind wandered back to that night spent with M in the motel. Even though he’d never really got a good look at her, she had been incredibly sexy. Thoughts of her wet pussy sliding up and down his cock dominated his mind and he felt his dick raise to full hardness. He needed some relief, so he took his member in his hand and started stroking it while fantasizing about M. His balls were full and hanging heavily between his legs. They really needed to be emptied.
Water slapped off his fist as he jerked his cock faster and faster. The taste of M’s sweetness flickered through his brain, as did the soft, warm sensation of her mouth engulfing his hard shaft. When he imagined he was plunging his cock in and out of her soaking cunt, it was all too much and he blew his load all over the tiles, where it was quickly washed down the drain by the running water.
Ryan breathed heavily for a moment as he let the shower wash the remnants of masturbation off his hand and softening dick.
Not as good as the real deal, but he’d needed to do it, had needed some temporary relief. And relieved was exactly how he felt as he dried off in front of the bathroom mirror. As was often the case, he was pleased to see that he was still in good shape for his age. At forty-three he hadn’t yet turned to flab in any way. He wasn’t sure why. He had an office job and didn’t go to the gym or play any regular sport. The main exercise he did was a bit of brisk walking and a few push-ups. Ryan didn’t really watch what he ate, either.