A chill runs up my spine, my tip leaking in my underwear.
Me:Okay. Tonight at 9pm.
I don't clarify what I mean by that either. I have plenty of time to think it over. Do I want to keep this online for a little longer or am I ready for more?
SheepFinder: See you tonight.
I log off, slipping my phone in my pocket and stay seated until my dog starts flipping over his bowl. I'm not the only one low on food. Getting tomy feet, I scratch Mr. Wiggles between the ears and slip on my boots, nose turning up at my mud covered feet. I'll deal with that later.
My neighbor's truck is nowhere in sight when I step outside and as I'm jumping in the drive side of my car, I can't stop wondering if I'm being watched right now and if I'll be running into town alone. I hope not.
“Just because you don't see them doesn't mean they aren't there.”
Those words follow me down the road and inside the store. They are playing on repeat in my head as I load my cart and pay. As I'm transferring the bags into the trunk, I'm alerted by a new push notification from OnlyFans.
I open the app and my skin tingles, heart thrumming as I trace over the words of my stalker's last message.
SheepFinder:I really like you in pink but I think you should lose the shirt as soon as you get back home.
My bottom lip slips between my teeth and I look down at my clothes before peering around the parking lot. I don't see anyone other than one of the workers pushing carts into the store. There are only five other cars around me and all vacant.
“Just because you don't see them doesn't mean they aren't there.”
Eleven
Nicolas
He doesn't drive directly home. At first I think he's taking the long way and then he starts driving toward the hospital. Parking in front of the building's main entrance, he sits there for at least another hour and never goes inside. The door opens for a second before closing and he backs out of the parking space, driving in circles before finally heading back to the house.
I went too far earlier. I said I wanted to slowly reveal who I was but there is nothing slow about the pace I moved at. It was hard to resist. He was right there, pants hanging low on his hips, the material giving enough for my hand to slide easily into. I lost control once our skin touched and kept touching him. He felt so damn good too. Tastes even better. As soon as I left, I licked at my fingers, humming around them, and as soon as I got inside my house, I took out my cock, shoving my hand deeper in my mouth, spreading his saltiness around as I came with my body spasming.
I walked back outside, spreading my seed all over his handle, growing hard all over again as I watched his fingers come in contact with such a filthy part of me. Adjusting myself in my pants, I turn a different direction than him as he drives onto our street and I tend to those errands I told him I was going to run.
My brother had asked me to pick up a bottle of wine earlier so I head to the liquor store, tossing four bottles in my basket in between watching where my little Bo goes. I can't go long without knowing his location. After getting back home, his car doesn't move for a long time and by the time I arrive at my brother's, my little bo is on the road again. He's going back to the hospital, staying parked in front and I doubt he's getting out.
I wish I could see more than his car on the screen. I'll have to remember to hide a camera somewhere in his car. I bet he'd like it too. I could message him randomly throughout the day, telling him when he has an eyelash on his cheek or his hair is sticking up. I can give my opinion on his clothing again, telling him to wear a jacket whenever he leaves the house during a chilly night.
Stepping out of my car, I slide my phone into my front pocket and grab the bag from the back seat. Holding the alcohol in one hand, my hand taps at my side as I resist the urge to look at my phone again. It's not like he goes to many places. He seems too nervous to explore too much at once, taking his time and only mostly going where I tell him to.
My brother answers the door on the second knock, eyes roaming over the bag, before meeting mine. “That looks like more than one bottle,” he huffs under his breath, stepping to the side to let me in.
His house looks more lived in than mine. Probably because it is. Plants rest on the window seal of his kitchen and he has stacks of bills on his table. His salt and pepper shakers are shaped like woodland creatures. The curtains hanging in the windows above the sink match the teal paint on thewall. He's always been a fan of more color than me, that's for sure but more shy and a hermit.
He's made his home his own little personal sanctuary with all his favorite things. Mine are mostly found where I least expect them to be. Like next door for example. Only one message away.
“There was a sale,” I deadpan and he shakes his head, chuckling.
“I get it. I'm not much for conversation so you need to drink whenever I have you over in order to make things less awkward.”
“Nah. I just thought I could save me a few trips to the store for when we have our next family dinners.”
“Mhm.” Rolling his eyes, he takes the bag from me and sets it on one of the counters.
“So what's on the menu? Not more of that cauliflower casserole I hope.”
“No,” he sneers. “Chicken fajitas and beans with a side of cream corn.”
“Oh, pulling out the extra sides for me this time. What's the occasion?”
