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Stacy's Love Story

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« on: 04:17:00 PM 04/21/17 »
He had the appearance of your average skinny white guy. Probably in his late twenties, living on his own in a beautiful home by the lake. Stacy knew his bedroom was on the second floor because on weekdays the lights in the house would be off by 10-10:30 pm, except for the room adjacent to the largest window of the house. Perhaps he was doing really well for himself or he simply inherited the large estate from his family. The backstories never seemed to interest her for one reason or another. After watching him for some time, she decided that his schedule made him seem robotic. Human beings are incredibly intelligent creatures but are victimized by their predictable habits. With this man, he always hid his spare house key under a fake rock, which laid under a thorny rose bush.

If there was any glitches in his robotic-like schedule they would occur on Fridays. He would often come home very late that day and would walk up his driveway with a huge stupid grin on his face, a contradiction to his normal routine. Nothing wrong with having a little fun, though he probably shouldn’t be at the wheel. The best approach was to use the nightfall as cover on a Friday, then slip into his house using the spare and walk right in. Stacy had the brains but didn’t have the brawn, so avoiding an initial altercation was a necessity for success.

She picked her target day and the plan went off without a hitch. Armed with latex gloves, an overcoat, and a bag of goodies; she was inside and soon had the place to herself. Her goal was to find the master bedroom and set everything up before he got back home, so she went upstairs to scope out what she had to work with. There was nothing particularly interesting or noteworthy, except for the queen-sized bed that acted as the centerpiece for the room. Stacy took her hand and began feeling the soft, smooth fabric of the linen bed sheets. By the time she was done sniffing the pillows, she could feel her knees weaken in anticipation and stepped out to find a bathroom.   

Once inside, she let her bag drop to the tiled floor with a loud clang. She began to strip and soon found herself in the shower massaging her breasts. As her right hand began to travel southward and she could feel her heart pumping loudly in her chest. She took the time to memorize the rhythm and focused on the crescendo of the beat with every passing second. Her fingers began moving faster and soon she found herself on the ground in total bliss. The concoction of adrenalin and dopamine rapidly rushed through her veins and completely overtook her within a few minutes. She finished a lot quicker than she had anticipated.

While everyone occasionally enjoys a pleasing appetizer, Stacy was now ready for the main course. She stepped out of the shower and attempted to quickly dry herself off. Then she paused to assess how she looked in the mirror. Stacy knew that she had a great bod but wished she had more of her mom’s genes or, at the very least, didn’t have her father’s chicken legs. She applied her make-up, lipstick, and eye-liner and was ready to go. Heaving the bag over her shoulder, she opened the bathroom door, and stepped out into the hallway.

Stacy let her bag drop to the carpeted floor with a loud clang and her spirits dropped with them. A very familiar man sat right outside the bathroom door, arm’s length from her, in a chair that had not previously been there. Stacy simply stood there, unable to react as the naked man looked at her and slowly grabbed her by the throat. He began choking her and violently dragged her towards the bedroom where she continued to struggle. Completely overpowered, she soon felt herself being chloroformed, followed by being haphazardly thrown onto the bed like a rag doll. Stacy heard the distant sound of metallic objects being dumped out of a bag before passing out.         
         
 



     


   
« Last Edit: 04:22:41 PM 04/21/17 by Skill Flea »
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