On a Bed, Sleeping

The Consensual Stalker

part 1

second -

He walked into the room, sat in the large overstuffed chair in the corner, and looked all around. Everything seemed exactly as it was previously, a place for everything and everything in its place. The night stands were the same, the bedspread, sheets, the furniture, everything looked the same. He looked at the clock projection again, and then his watch, and smiled, perfectly in sync.

He walked over to the left side of the bed and looked down at her. She was sleeping curled in a nearly fetal position, on her right side, facing him, knees pulled up, back curved, and hands down between her thighs. She was sleeping very close to the left side of the bed, not in the middle like before. He noticed with a smile that she had a scarf twisted loosely, but effectively around her wrists. It was an instruction he had issued several times and she had said she complied, but this was the first time he was actually seeing how she looked bound that way, and he found it stimulating in a strangely satisfying, "Mine", sort of way.

She was wearing a pair of bikini panties similar to last time, and again, her breasts were bare. Last time she had been laying flat down on her stomach, but this time, they were squeezed between her upper arms. Her ample breasts appeared even larger being contained in that way and her nipples were semi erect. Not hard and prominent as they were when she was aroused, but there was clear definition and swelling up from her aureoles. Her hair was tousled about her head, neck and shoulders, and it appeared to be longer. Obviously she was letting it grow longer; another "suggestion" he had made.

As he stood there, he looked around at the bed and night stand, the armoire and then at the headboard. In the dim moonlight, he noticed something at the center of the headboard, at the top edge. He leaned closer and saw that a stick pin was holding the ribbon and bow that he had fashioned in her hair the last time he visited. He reached down for the prescription bottle on the night stand and could feel it was full, and new, compared to the bottle that had been there last time. It suggested that she was using this sleeping aid on a regular, perhaps even on a nightly basis. He leaned in close, wiped her forehead and temple, hair smoothed out of your face, and looked at her eyes, looking for any sign that she might actually be partially awake.

Since she was sleeping so close to the edge of the bed, and facing in his direction, he gently settled himself on the edge of the bed, almost up against the front of her thighs, rather than down further where he might normally have seated himself, closer to her legs, her thighs and her bottom. As he sat there, lightly brushing her hair out of her face, suddenly he was startled and nearly jumped up. She abruptly stirred and shifted, she pulled her arms up and out, and placed her forearm on top of his thigh, her bound wrists hooked over his knee. She stretched out and put her head onto her arm, resting the side of her face and her temple directly against the side of his knee. Her position also pressed her breast and nipple hard against the side of his leg. This would not have bothered him much, but being spring time, with warmer weather, he had worn a pair of baggy surfer style shorts, and her warm soft flesh was pressed up against his bare leg. He was excited by the feel of her skin against his.
.
He sat there mesmerized by the feel of her breast pressing into his thigh, and the surges of warm air puffing through the hair on the back of his thigh as she breathed. As he sat there, he lightly touched her hair, decided that rather than try to move her, or slide himself out from under her embrace, he would just wait a while until she changed position again. The next time she rustled he would be able to slide his leg down off the edge of the bed as she was shifting around and extricate himself. He was in no hurry to go, and while this predicament was impeding his plans for the visit, he was very much enjoying his entrapment.

Again, like the last visit his attention was drawn to that spot near her bottom, that spot where her buttock turned to her thigh. He'd always had a fondness for that shape of her body, and the contour of her bottom. He reached over and placed the palm of his hand fully on the upper part of the back of her thigh, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin, and gently slipped the tips of a couple fingers up under the leg band of her panties. Just as he was about to move his hand further down in between and inside her thighs she started to stir again, he froze in place. She rolled toward the center of the bed, nearly on her back and drug her bound wrists across his thigh and back onto the mattress. As she moved, he pulled back his arm, and hand fell to the mattress. She pushed her hands up under her pillow, rolled back over and put her cheek on the pillow on top of her hands. She twisted her torso so she was once again nearly flat on her stomach. He sat still, waiting to see if she had settled, looking up and down the length of her lovely body, at her smooth skin and her well toned muscles. She seemed to be back sleeping soundly and settled again.

He walked over to his jacket, reached into the pocket and took out the length of soft cotton rope he had brought with him. He returned to the bed, walked down to the foot, where her ankles were lying side by side and lightly placed the center of the rope over her left ankle. He then took the tag end and passed it under her ankle, pulling up most of the slack and then made a figure eight cross over between her ankles. He wrapped the each end of the rope twice around her right ankle, made a second figure eight crisscross back to her left ankle, once around again and then between her ankles tied a double knot with the small bits of rope left. It was effectively fashioned in the style of a loose hobble. Clearly she had taken the sleeping pills again tonight, or all of the fussing with her feet and ankles would surely have woken her up. He stood back, admiring his handiwork and watched her breathing, listening to her slight snoring sound and looked up and smiled again at the ribbon on the headboard.

He walked over to the chair, picked up his jacket and walked out of the room, down the hall, across the living room and out the front door, locking it behind him.

As he drove off, he said out loud to himself, "Third time is a charm."
. . . continued . . .

In a Bedroom, Sleeping

The Consensual Stalker

first -
He walked into the room, sat in the large overstuffed chair in the corner, and looked all around. There was the bathroom door off to the right, and on the opposite wall, the closet door, and in between a large armoire that held some folded clothes and a television set. He thought, what an interesting place to conceal a small camera. And on the wall opposite, there was a queen size bed, with a nightstand on either side, each with a lamp, and one with a clock that shines the time in a circle on the ceiling:

12:55 A

Sunday

He looked at his watch, and noticed a difference, pulled out the stem and adjusted it to 12:57, centered the second hand at zero, and waited for 12:57 to appear on the ceiling, then pushed the stem back in; there, perfect.

He got up and walked over to the bed, and looked at the items on the far night stand, just the lamp, the clock, a couple of magazines and a paperback book. On the near night stand was the matching lamp, a cell phone, a glass of water and a prescription bottle. He picked up the bottle and read the label, Dalmane, Take as needed for sleep.

She was sound asleep, making a soft slow breathing sound, not quite a snore. She laid flat face down, arms wrapped around her pillow, head resting on her left cheek, her hair spread across her cheek, her forehead, her neck and shoulders. Her right leg was pulled up and out, bent at the knee. She was wearing a pair of bikini panties, nothing else. He put his hand on the headboard, and leaned over looking down at her, she seemed to have the slightest smile on her face, but was definitely deep in sleep.

With his free hand he began to ever so lightly trace one fingertip across her shoulders, and down across her biceps, over her elbow and down her forearm to her wrist. Then he ran the fingertip slowly back up her arm, across her shoulders and down the other arm. She did not stir or seem to sense his touch in any way. He wondered if she was that sound a sleeper, or if the sleeping pill had dulled her senses. He ran his fingertip back up her arm, to her shoulders and ran it up and down her neck, at the back first, then up the sides and back, and still there was no reaction.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he put two fingers at the base of her neck, and begin tracing then down either side of her backbone, circling it, over, back and forth, and then down to the next bone, pressing ever so slightly, a tender teasing touch. He continued working down each vertebrae, down to the curve of the small of her back, and then back up the rising slope toward her buttocks, lightly massaging her skin, up and down and then back up, an inch or so at a time. When he reached the waist band of her panties, he turned his hand and pushed the fingers under the waistband spreading her cheeks apart just slightly as his fingers slide deeper and deeper into the cleft. The waistband slipped up his fingers and onto the back of his hand, and he stopped. With his fingers resting between her cheeks, he suddenly considered how much he had touched her, with absolutely no response, what so ever.

He stopped and was very still for a moment, not moving his hand, listening for her breathing. It was still soft and steady, calm and nearly that same soft snoring sound. He slowly began to reverse his movement and trace his two fingers back up her spine, back toward her neck. When his fingers reached the base of her neck, he massaged her neck at her hairline, up the sides and back down to her shoulders, still, no reaction. He lifted his hand off of her skin and just sat, looking at her back heave and settle slowly as she slept, undisturbed. He was tempted to jostle her and awaken her, but decided better of it, thinking that he ought to leave soon.

He looked over her body, so lovely and calm, so relaxed in her sleep. His gaze went to the back of the thigh of her bent leg, and that spot where her buttock turned to her thigh. He reached over and placed the palm of his hand fully on the upper part of the back of her thigh, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin, it aroused him to touch her so intimately. He thought better of it, removed his hand, and stood up, looking up and down the length of her lovely nearly naked body, her smooth skin and her well toned muscles.

He moved back to the headboard, braced himself and leaned over again, and looked down at her face, she still had that same partial smile, partially covered by her tousled hair. With the fingers of his free hand he gently combed her hair back, off of her face, up over the side of her head and tucked as much as he could behind the back of her ear. He could now clearly see her face and the side of her neck. He walked over to his jacket, reached into the pocket and took out the length of ribbon he had brought with him. He returned to the side of the bed, combed more of her hair back into the semblance of pony tail, and tied the ribbon around the gathered strands of hair, and then fashioned a bow.

He walked over to the chair, picked up his jacket and walked out of the room, down the hall, across the living room and out the front door, locking it behind him.
. . . continued . . .