Page 10 of Underneath the Mask

Mask

It’s exactly one week from Halloween. I expected her to leave the house by now, but she hasn’t. She appears to be perfectly content, locked away inside the house day after day. She even started doing yoga in the living room yesterday. Meanwhile, my nightly sessions spent jerking off while watching her through the windows of the house have become less exciting. It’s not as fun to imagine now that I’ve had the authentic experience. It’s the closest thing I have to fucking her though and I’ve endured far worse forms of torture. In my surveillance room, the six different monitors flash views of her house. I almost got busted installing these yesterday when she woke up from her nap and I’m almost certain she glimpsed me in the alley.

My withdrawals were getting the best of me. I had to do something, and it meant getting creative. If I can’t stalk my little masterpiece home from work every day, then how else am I supposed to see her? It’s not like I could continue showing up outside her house in broad daylight. It would look oddly suspicious. I don’t need to attract any unwanted attention, soI’ve simply slipped in a few times during her afternoon naps. It’s given me all the opportunity I need to wander around without having to worry about getting caught, and plenty of time to install a few cameras.

She’s going to be all alone tonight for a few hours and because she’s a sexually-depraved creature of habit, I know exactly how she intends to use the time. I lean back in my nice plush gaming chair, eye the door to make sure it’s locked, pop my headphones on, and click around until I have her on the screen. I watch intently as she makes her way upstairs. First she checks the lock on the front door, then she tiptoes up the stairs slowly. At the top, she veers off to the bedroom. I watch her on the screens as she wanders around her room collecting supplies for a bath. She makes multiple trips into the bathroom and starts the water. While she waits for the tub to fill, she heads to her nightstand and pulls out a few toys.

Jackpot.Grabbing my belt and ripping it off my pants in a flash, before I unbutton my pants and pull my cock out, gripping it firmly. I can’t wait for my favorite TV show to begin. There’s nothing else I enjoy watching more than this right here. Well, actually now that I think about it, there is one thing I would love to watch again. I haven’t been able to stop replaying what it was like watching me fuck her in the mirror at the gym. A low moan escapes my lips as I slide my hand up my shaft slowly. Taking extra care not to be too rough around the barbell, remembering how much she enjoyed running her tongue across it when I was fucking her pretty mouth. I watch my girl undress. She’s like a sunflower—a masterpiece of nature, and every glance I steal feels like temptation. I fight the urge to go to her knowing she longs to be touched, to experience the satisfaction a man can provide and I am more than eager to satiate her hunger.

I stroke myself harder, more aggressively, watching as she sinks into the bubbles filling the tub full of hot water. Candlesflicker, casting shadows that dance across the screen. She pops her earbuds in. What a naughty girl she is, listening to an audiobook. I wish I knew which one so I could listen along with her. I’ll have to settle for the sound of her sweet moans. She doesn’t even realize she’s making them with her earbuds tucked in her ears and the audiobook playing. It’s so fucking addicting the way she turns me on. My cock twitches in agreement, pre-cum leaking out and over my fingers. I rub it over myself, imagining it’s her cum all over me like the last time we were together. The smell of her on my dick the next morning was almost more than I could handle. I want to taste her cum in my mouth. Groaning, I think about plunging two fingers into her tight, wet pussy, then pulling each one out to lick them clean.

As if she can read my mind, her hand dips beneath the bubbles and presumably between her legs to stroke her needy little cunt. I want to fill it for her, stretching her all around me until she has every inch of me inside of her, throbbing as she clenches her warm walls against me—Fuck!

If I don’t slow down, I’m going to cum before the good part. I take a deep breath and focus on waiting for my stunning goddess to catch up. It’s true, I could watch her for hours. A chuckle rolls off my lips. Idowatch her for hours. It’s my obsession. I can watch her anywhere, anytime. Every inch of her is crafted to pull me closer, every flaw only making her more real, more mine.

Amanda’s hand surfaces and reaches for her favorite toy as I begin to drag my hand over my cock slowly. My eyes close, imagining her running the vibrating silicone all over her pussy, teasing her clit until small cries escape her lips and she drops her head back to rest against the cool tile, panting as she works herself over. I watch her on my screen as she cums, pumping myself faster until my cum explodes out and onto my stomach. I groan, filled with a deep satisfaction, but it’s only a temporary fix. All I can think about is fucking her again.Soon,I think.It’salmost Halloween. Only a few more days until I’m fucking her again.

twelve

Facade

Amanda

We did not have sex and as I expected, and the bed was empty when I woke up. Erica is coming to pick me up for a pumpkin spice-themed morning at the coffeehouse. I’ll spend the afternoon like I always do, watching Halloween movies and napping on the couch while I wait for my boyfriend to get home from work. It’s my first adventure out since I started my mental health leave. I need to get it over with though so I can try to get back into my routine since I’ll be returning to work in a few weeks.

I kick the blankets back and stare out the window at the bleak and stormy day. The weather is perfect for fall. There’s a light drizzle falling from the sky. The tiny raindrops stick to my window as if greeting me for the day. It’s as if Mother Nature knew I needed a day like today. Rainy days are some of my favorites. This also means it will be cold enough for an oversized Halloween sweater. I swing my feet out of bed and trudge off to the bathroom to get ready for our breakfast date. Once I’ve tidied my hair and put on a light layer of makeup, I head tomy closet to dress, selecting a comfortable pair of fleece-lined fake leather yoga tights and my frayed, army green sweater with black pumpkins.

My phone chimes as I am scrutinizing my outfit in the mirror. I swipe it open to read that text from Erica, letting me know she’s on her way to pick me up. Before I can text her back, there’s a knock on the front door. I freeze, my heart thunders in my ears and the panic creeps over me.Not today,I think to myself.I just want to feel normal. The thought of having to answer the front door absolutely terrifies me, but it shouldn’t.I try to give myself a pep talk, working up enough courage to at least make my way to the upstairs landing. I glance down at my phone, remembering the front door camera, and check the app. It’s strange it doesn’t even show the front door camera has been activated. The app shows the camera is off instead and flashing low battery. That’s inconvenient. I silently battle myself in my head, trying to decide whether or not I am brave enough to go to the door. I take a deep breath and descend the stairs slowly, one step at a time. When I reach the bottom, I carefully tiptoe across the entryway to the large window next to the front door to peek out around the edges of the curtain to see if anyone is there. The curtains are thick and heavy to keep the heat out in the summer and in during the winter. It makes them easier to pull a small fold aside. When I gaze out, my eyes search the porch. It’s empty except for a bouquet of black sunflowers. My favorite flowers. It’s why we have so many along the back fence line near the garden. I ordered black sunflower seeds from the internet, and gleefully planted them. When they finally grew, there were no black sunflowers in the bunch. I laugh to myself, remembering how disappointed I was. My boyfriend searched all over the city and came home the next day to surprise me with some he found at a local florist.Maybe these are from him,I think, twisting thedeadbolt over slowly and easing the door open just enough to dash out quickly and swipe the flowers from the step.

There’s a card rubber-banded to them, but I don’t read it until I’m back inside the safety of the house with the heavy wood door locked again. I take the flowers to the kitchen and lay them on the counter. My hands tremble as I slide open the card to reveal a handwritten note. “Masterpiece,” is all it reads. It’s not signed, but there’s only one person they could be from, right? Except I distinctly remember the masked man calling me a masterpiece, but that was a dream, so I can’t remember it. Shaking, I fall to the ground, pulling my knees into my body, still clutching the card between my fingers. Hot tears fill my eyes, threatening to spill over the brims and ruin my makeup. I drop the card on the ground without a thought and stand up to grab a paper towel from the countertop. Eyeing the flowers wearily as I dab and blot the tears away before they can run down my face, smearing my makeup. I don’t want Erica to know about this.

Go figure, my phone buzzes and I know it’s her letting me know she’s here. A car horn honks and that’s all the confirmation I need to know it’s Erica without even having to check my text. I don’t have time to think about the flowers anymore, and honestly I don’t want to. I just want to go have a nice normal breakfast with my friend, then come home and have a nice normal afternoon spent on the couch watching a Halloween movie.Normal. Is that so much to ask for, universe?

I set the house alarm and lock the door, then toss the keys in my bag, planting a big fake smile on my face so she doesn’t think anything is wrong.

“Girl, look at you all cute and Halloweened up for our little coffee date,” Erica hollers at me from the car.

My fake smile transforms into a genuine one, and I wave at her. She always has the best compliments. My life would be incredibly dull without my partner in crime, even though wedon’t see each other nearly as much as we should. I open the car door and slide inside. She has the seat warmer pre-heated for me, making the leather nice and cozy. I snuggle in, relaxing, and click my seatbelt into place.

“I should let you dress me from now on. You look hot today, like you just stepped out of a fall magazine,” Erica pats my sweater. “It’s soft, too. I’m so jealous.”

I roll my eyes at her, and give her a once over. “You must be kidding me. Your accessory game is on point. The only reason you want me to dress you is because you know I ordered this from one of those boujee boutique websites on social media and you wish you grabbed a bunch for yours.”

“Busted, and guilty. You know I can’t help myself. Won’t you please consider doing some stylist work on the side for me? You can curate an entire line all your own,” she begs.

I laugh. “Oh yeah, and what would we call it? Lonely, mood reader?”

But I think about her offer. That’s something I could do if I actually quit my job. I could curate an adorable clothing line, market the crap out of it, and have a blast attending the giant clothing conventions she’s always telling me about in Texas.

“He’s still working late and never around, I take it?” Erica asks, her lips pursing together in a hard frown. She’s been my ride or die since we moved into the dorms together freshman year. We instantly just clicked and ever since then, we’ve always been a little overprotective of one another.

“Yeah,” I sigh as we pull into the coffee shop a few blocks away. One perk of living on the edge of the city is all the adorable shops and bistros sprinkled nearby. Erica’s boutique is across the street from our favorite spot. It works out perfectly to meet for breakfast a few times a month. It’s also near the gym and only a few shops away on the same street in the same shoppingcenter. I glare at the gym, then quickly look away, hoping she didn’t notice and was too busy focusing on parallel parking.

She sandwiches the car into the spot, perfectly shifting into park and cutting the engine.

The door jingles when we walk inside. The aroma of freshly ground coffee and sweet pastries hits my nose instantly. My stomach rumbles and I realize I am a lot hungrier than I realized. We don’t bother stopping at the counter. Justin will swing by with all of our favorite seasonal treats. We booked ahead with him last week to reserve all our favorites. He owns the coffee shop—and if you ask me, I think he has a bit of a thing for Erica, but she refuses to acknowledge it. I secretly think she likes him back, but they are both too stubborn and shy when it comes to the other to do anything about it. Erica waves at him behind the counter as we pass by on our way to our spot. I smile, knowing it’s the little things like that wave that make me suspicious.

Our favorite table is small and nuzzled in the corner against the edge of one window with a view of the Main Street and many of the shops. It’s perfect for people watching, which we love to do. We always have the best time making up strange backstories for our unsuspecting muses.

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