Building Supplies

The Consensual Stalker

She'd been chatting with her mysterious friend on Yahoo for about an hour when she decided that she really had tasks to get done before the end of the day. She excused herself, reluctantly, but full of purpose for the afternoon’s chores and the sense of accomplishment they would bring. Principal among them was completing the tiling around the edges of the "new" bathtub that had sat unfinished for far too long. As she was logging off, he had said, seemingly casually, "Good bye for now, I will be seeing you later sweetheart."

She stripped off her jeans, and socks, and then her t-shirt too; wanting to be sure she did not get any caulking or putty or other goop in her clothes. As she walked into the bathroom she saw herself in the mirror and realized she was wearing the pair of baby blue it-se-bit-se bikini panties the mysterious man had bought and sent to her. She had avoided wearing them, even avoiding the suggestion of it, until today. At his request/insistence, she had acquiesced and put them on when she dressed this morning, knowing she would be chatting with him; part of her ongoing "training" he called it, these chat sessions.

She gathered all of her tools and tubes and tiles, and quickly did a mental inventory of what she was going to need. She realized she didn't have everything she needed and was going to have to go to the building supply store and get some more bathtub sealant. It would just be a quick utilitarian trip, so she grabbed the lightweight blue sleeveless dress that was lying on the bed, just to have something on. She pulled it over her head, smoothed it down and slipped on a pair of light-weight black sandals. She grabbed her purse and cell phone, and headed out to her car.
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After having talked with her mystery man she was feeling elated and a bit aroused. When she stopped at a light, she would trace her fingers up the inside of her thighs just slightly, thinking about the way he talked to her, encouraged her. As she drove on, the hem of her dress moved higher and higher, the loose material giving way to her pushing and moving. It was a cool fall day and she was surprised how warm she was feeling, with the windows down, even in such light clothing. In fact she was feeling a little flush and realized just how aroused she was becoming. At the light just before the turn in to the hardware center, she pressed her fingers up against her panties and was very surprised how damp she had made herself. She hoped that it would not be noticeable on the back of her dress once she got out of the car to walk into the store.

She turned into the parking lot and found herself a parking place; she was surprised that they were so busy, in the middle of the afternoon, on a week day. She had to park further away than she liked but given the lovely weather, the thought passed quickly and she strode off. Going into the store, she turned down the aisle with the plumbing supplies and began scanning the racks and shelves, looking for the bathtub sealant. She was feeling lighthearted and purposeful, and noticed herself humming an upbeat breezy tune as she moved along examining all of the different kinds of tubes of goop that she might use. After she selected the sealant, she went to the paint section, remembering she needed a couple of stir sticks for the paint she would be using after she had all the tile work done. She picked out a couple of the old fashioned flat wooden stirrers and grabbed a couple of the newfangled industrial style red plastic stir sticks also. Then, at the check-out counter she found some large, wide elastic rubber bands she had been looking for. She loved going to the building supply store, it always had so many cool utility items. She grabbed her bag of goodies and headed back out of the store, happy she would be able to move forward on her projects.
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As she was walking across the parking lot toward her car, her cell phone chirped that "incoming text message" tone. She decided that rather than fumbling around in her packages and purse she would just wait until she got back to her car to check it. It was a beautiful bright sunny day and the heat on her back felt wonderful. She saw a young man walking toward her, and noticed he was looking right at her with a big grin. As she got closer she realized he was looking down at her dress, and then realized that she must be silhouetted through her sheer dress by the bright sun behind her. She imagined that he was focusing on the shape of her thighs shadowed through the light material. She was embarrassed by how obviously he was staring down at her but she was smiling also, at be appreciated, she loved being looked at, as he walked by she heard him make a sound, "mm-mmm". It was a strange mixture of feelings for her; it was not something she had thought about before but her "stalker" had mentioned, and emphasized her mixed feelings of embarrassment and excitement, and she was becoming more and more aware of the conflict in her mind.

Suddenly she snapped back from her reverie, sure she had walked past her car. But she realized she still had a ways to go, she did not think she had parked so far out in the parking lot. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw that the young man was still watching her walk away from him, and her embarrassment grew, she felt herself blushing. As she stood there looking at him, her phone chirped again. Aggravated by the seeming urgency of the messages, she turned and headed on toward her car. As she approached her car she noticed that there were fewer cars around than when she had arrived. She went around to the drivers side, opened the door, tossed her purchases onto the passengers seat, and dug into her purse for her phone, just as it chirped for a third time, she did not often get so many text messages in such a short period.

She unlocked the keypad and pressed the Messages button, and saw three new messages, all from Stalker, the capricious nick she had assigned to his number in her Contacts. She opened the first message, "Such a lovely blue shift dress, you look very sexy." How did he know what she was wearing? She instinctively looked around, obviously a fruitless thing to do, and saw no one, but realized she still did not know exactly what he looked like, never having even yet seen his face, just that he was a tall, of average build. She returned her gaze back to the phones message center and opened the second message, "The boy really is enjoying looking at you, what do you suppose he is thinking?" Again she looked around, now sure that he was nearby somewhere. She looked at the surrounding building, and looked into the other cars parked around her, but saw no one. She continued to look around, double checking to see if she could see him . . . nothing.

She opened the third and final message, "Perhaps you should walk back and introduce yourself to him?" Okay, obviously he was here somewhere, but certainly not within her sight. Equally obvious, the chance to even think about or explore that "suggestion" was past. She just sat there in her car, unsure what to do now. Stalker was clearly nearby. She had a feeling like things were swirling around her, dizzying, turning her head first this way, and then that, looking. Should she just drive off? Get out of the car and look for him in earnest? Just sit here and wait? She was feeling very conflicted and anxious; in fact she was feeling a bit scared, uncertain, not sure why exactly.
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Just then . . .

. . . she saw movement in her rear view mirror, it was a large black sedan pulling up behind her car. Her text message chimed once again, and she read the message, "Put your hands on the steering wheel, and look down, and be still".

Continued . . .