Page 13 of Underneath the Mask

The moment it clicks open, I dive inside, terrified but safe. I’m not fucking crazy. This guy is real, and he’s stalking me. I don’t know how to feel or react. My body gives out and I slide to the ground, pulling my knees in and hugging them tightly. I sob, wrapping my arms around myself.Why the fuck did I let any of that happen? What’s wrong with me?My body didn’t just want him, it craved him. My pussy salivated for him. Even now, it throbs and aches at the thought of him. The memories from the other night came flooding back rapidly. The dangerous allure of his presence was enough to send every nerve in my body into an electric frenzy.

When I’ve calmed down and worked up enough courage, I peek through the slats in the blinds by the entryway, but just as I expected, the street is empty. It feels like I am losing my mind. I should have just had Erica drive me home. Fuck. Erica. I need to text her. I pull my phone out and shoot off a text, then immediately send off another text to my boyfriend asking if he’s on his way home yet. He doesn’t answer, but I figured he wouldn’t.

What was I thinking, planning a day at home alone? I’ve been a mess lately, and now I’m texting him like a completely idiotic baby. It’s no wonder he doesn’t want to fuck me. It’s no wonder my skin desperately begs for the feel of a masked psychopath’s touch; unrelenting, starved, and claiming me for himself. I’msuch a complete train wreck. How am I supposed to go back to work when I can’t get a handle on my own psychotic episodes? Or maybe I just need to get a handle on my stalker.Fuck. I really need to pull myself together,I think as I allow myself to fall against the wall and slide to the floor once more before stealing a look out the bottom of the window again, just to be sure he’s not outside. There’s nothing but a few lone leaves blowing down the street.Get a grip, Amanda.

I wait a few more minutes to see if I get a text back. When I don’t, I pick myself off of the floor and climb the stairs to my room. Water therapy and a good cry in the shower are exactly what I need right now. I have all the best intentions to get in the shower, but I stop short and fall into my bed. I grab one of my favorite comfort reads and curl up with a book. Damn, I’ve missed the escape reading brings me.

I don’t even know how long I’ve been reading for when my boyfriend finally texts me back, but it’s dark now, and I can tell from his one-word answer,no, that it won’t be worth waiting for him. Despite wanting to ignore the rumble in my stomach, I decide I may as well make myself some dinner and after the day I’ve had a glass of wine to settle my nerves is perfectly reasonable. When I pass by the front door, I check to make sure both locks are set. In the kitchen, I grab a plate and build myself a mini charcuterie with cheese, meat, fresh fruit, and a handful of nuts. I pour myself a nice tall glass of wine, cork the bottle, and return it to the wine fridge. The wind blows the nearly bare tree branches against the kitchen window, making me jump.It’s okay, Amanda. It’s only the wind.I reassure myself on my way back to the bedroom and my book. I pause at the bottom of the stairs, setting my wine on the entry table to tap the security screen and arm the house before heading upstairs.

In my room, I set my glass on a coaster from my last book box, and my plate next to it. Then I pull down the covers andtoss my stuff onto the blankets. Before I climb into bed and get comfortable, I snatch the remote off his side and flip on another Halloween movie for some background noise. Satisfied, I slide into bed and snuggle in. I leave the curtain pulled open, intent on catching anyone who might be hiding in the shadows. I open the security app on my phone and make sure I have the notifications on.

“Cheers,” I say, toasting my screen and switching to my e-reader, so I can use the stand and the remote to continue reading while I snack.

I settle back into my book, getting so immersed I completely lose myself within the pages. Things are getting spicy by the time I’ve drained my second glass and finished my snacks. It’s time for an intermission and thirds, also known as finishing the glass. I cast a side-eye at my bedside table and then the clock. Do I dare let myself get carried away or is it cutting it too close to the time he has been getting home when it’s late? I shrug, springing off the bed at the realization that maybe he will walk in on me and so what? Maybe it will take him from a vanilla boy to the men in my books. Just thinking about him getting into it and the way I imagine he might react has me hot. I snatch my phone, then race downstairs to pour the rest of the bottle into my glass in a hurry. His loss. This book is my favorite for a reason, and it’s far too good to let a wasted opportunity pass by. From the bedside table drawer, I pull out my favorite toy. My fingers wrap around it in a familiar embrace. Tapping the screen, I dive back in. It’s not long before I’m another half a glass deep. The soft buzz fills the room and I flip through page after page. All the while, my orgasm builds.

fifteen

7:30 AM

Amanda

It’s Halloween. One of my favorite days of the year, or maybe it’s the celebration of fall leading up to it. Halloween is like one last big shebang before snowflakes blow through the air and Jack Frost paints the world for winter. I blink my eyes open slowly, still unsure if I’m ready to greet the day yet. It’s bittersweet really. The days are dwindling away as my time on leave runs out, and my boyfriend’s offer remains unclaimed. I have to decide soon.There’s Erica’s offer too, and part time.My brain is chiming off, running down an entire list of possibilities, and my day is only just beginning.

Ugh, I scoff at myself. Why am I like this? I rub my eyes and focus on clearing my mind, then open them again for a reset. This time, I notice purple and orange sticky notes everywhere. My hands fly up to my mouth in surprise as a million-dollar smile slides across my lips. This is seriously cute. A giddy squeal escapes my mouth as I leap to my feet and bolt across the room to collect a sticky note and read it.Good morning, beautiful.Ilook around the room for another one. I spot one on the TVHalloween date night in? Say yes!I can’t stop smiling.

“Yes,” I whisper to myself.

There’s another note on the wall by the bathroom.Happy Halloween!On the mirror I find another note.Have a boo-rific day.Once I’ve washed my face and put a face mask on, I head downstairs for coffee. It’s a misty, drizzly morning outside and it calls for my favorite Halloween mug. On the banister is a bright orange sticky note.Find the boo basket.Wow! I can’t believe he made me a boo basket. At the bottom of the stairs, a purple sticky note waits for me innocently on the floor.Check your email. I sent you book money.I place this note in the pile I’m holding and continue into the kitchen. On the fridge there’s a note waiting.Breakfast will be delivered at eight.I check the time. It’s almost eight. Ten more minutes. I continue my scavenger hunt, wandering into the family room and spot a sticky note on the couch.Quit your job. I had to try.I toss my head back and laugh. He’s persistent. My eyes sweep over the room in search of more notes or a boo basket. Eventually, I spot it nestled next to the fireplace, all cozy and perfect for fall. I skip over excitedly, only to find one last note.I love you forevers and evers.

I bite my thumb, feeling my eyes fill with burning hot tears, but I fight them back. The basket has some calming tea, and all kinds of Halloween themed snacks and treats. There’s a spooky themed white fluffy blanket with black bats on it, and a pumpkin bath bomb. There are so many amazing things in the basket. I can’t believe he made this for me. I send him a quickthank youtext.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. I panic for a moment and then remember it’s breakfast. I check the doorbell camera to be sure, then realize how ridiculous this all is. After accepting the breakfast from the delivery woman, I breathe asigh of relief. Answering the door shouldn’t be terrifying, but it absolutely is. I have all day to prepare for date night and I want everything to be absolutely wonderful. Once I’ve finished my breakfast, I unpack the boo basket, setting up the holiday-themed snacks and treats in the kitchen. Then I prepare the candy bowl for trick-or-treaters tonight. I love trick-or-treaters, but we agreed with how unsettled I’ve been. It’s probably better if I sit trick or treat out this year. At first I was disappointed, but deep down I knew my boyfriend was right. It’s sweet of him to go through all this trouble to make up for missing out on some of my favorite Halloween things, like passing out candy and enjoying all the kid’s costumes. Besides, there will be plenty more Halloweens in the years to come. Missing out on this one won’t be that bad.

I spend most of the morning making sure everything is perfect for our date night in. My stomach gives a grumble reminding me I need to take a break and get something to eat. Coincidentally, the doorbell rings again. I’m not expecting any packages or anyone. Hesitantly, I check the camera, but there’s nothing showing up. No one is there, and it didn’t even capture anything ringing it. That’s weird, I think to myself, but I decide to check the porch for a package or something, anyway. What with all the other surprises I woke up to, I can’t just ignore it. We have porch pirates all over the city.

You can do this, Amanda. It’s just like when breakfast arrived.I think giving myself a pep talk. I walk to the front door. My fingers brushing over the cold metal handle and wrapping around it. I swing the door open and look around the front yard, down the street. My eyes flit over every detail, looking for someone or something out of the ordinary. It’s not until I look down that I notice it. A shrill scream departs my body and I slam the door closed. My hands shake as I work to spin the lock. I blink a few times, before finally brushing the curtains aside tolook out the long floor to ceiling window. I didn’t want to believe it, but there is absolutely no mistaking what is laying on my front porch.

Stiff, lifeless, and somewhat bloody, there’s a large black raven smack dab in the middle of my front mat. If I were to take one singular step out the door, my foot would no doubt land against its dead body.Why is this happening? Who would do such a thing?My mind races with question after question, each one leading me to the same answer. It’s the masked man. My masked stalker. The one and only person I can’t get out of my mind. I’ve been thinking about him and all our encounters, but especially the time at the gym. Blood pumps through my veins mixed with fear and adrenaline as my heartbeat races.Am I afraid of him? Or am I secretly hoping he might show up to ravish my body again?My pussy tingles at the thought of him, remembering once again how good it felt and how thrilling it was to be fucked by a masked psychopath.

I squeeze my eyes shut, angry with myself and these thoughts of being with another man. My man, my sweet, thoughtful boyfriend, who might be the most amazing human in the world went through great lengths to make sure I had an amazing Halloween day while he is away working to support us both right now, and here I am fantasizing about cheating on him with a mysterious masked man. Damn, I’m just the fucking worst. The tear drops drip down my face and fall from my chin onto my T-shirt, and I hastily wipe and dab at them. I shouldn’t feel guilty, I tried to tell him, but he doesn’t believe me. Maybe I need to try to tell him again, or perhaps I should just force myself never to think about him again.Can I do that?I wonder. My mind immediately retreats to think about his piercing and how much I’ve always wanted to have sex with somebody that has their dick pierced. I’ve begged and pleaded with my boyfriend to do it. Ieven got my nipples pierced as a trade for him, but he completely chickened out and refused to do it.

My phone chimes, pulling me from my thoughts. It’s him which only makes me feel worse. His text says he’s just checking on me. I decide to lie and say I’m fine, then ask if he’ll be home soon. I wait for him to reply, but he doesn’t. Or at least not right away. I convince myself to make something for lunch and end up curled up on the living room couch in what has become my favorite afternoon spot. Feeling restless and unnerved, I remember the tea in the boo basket is calm down tea and decide to brew a cup. I could use some rest, especially if I want to stay up late enough and try to satisfy my body’s cravings to be stuffed full of a nice fat cock.

“Cheers,” I say to myself, holding up a Halloween mug filled with piping hot relaxation tea. “Bottoms up, and I better take the best nap ever.” I tip the contents into my mouth and have to choke it down. I always forget how much I don’t like tea. Yuck. I feel my stomach give a lurch but manage to keep myself from vomiting its contents. I grab my brand new boo blanket then snuggle in for a movie and a nap. The sunset will wake me later, like it does everyday around four o’clock.

sixteen

2:00 PM

Mask

Before heading around back, I open the camera app from my phone and disable the doorbell feed. There’s one thing I need to take care of first. Holding an old shoe box, I climb the front steps and scoop the dead raven from inside of it. In its place, I leave a mask that looks just like the one I’ve been wearing to disguise my identity. I got the idea to leave her a bird like this from some of the books I’ve watched her read while she touches herself at night. Last night I wrestled the dead raven from the neighborhood tabby. It was a lucky coincidence our paths crossed. I was standing in the alley, trying to figure out how to find a dead black bird and he came meandering by with it dangling from his mouth. He even chewed on one side, making it nice and bloody, perfect for the front step. I slip the lid gingerly over the shoebox grave so I can dispose of it in a trash can that stands at attention in the alley like a soldier waiting for his orders to make the evidence disappear. The mask on the step makes the scene picturesque, a true work of art. Adrenalineworks its way through my system at the thought of her finding the mask. I can’t wait to see the tortured look on her face later.

Satisfied with my display, I creep around back to sneak into the basement side window, spying on her from my perch inside the garage from the alley. My binoculars provide me with an up-close experience. I watch through them as she drinks a cup of tea. I tucked the relaxing tea into her boo basket earlier, before she woke up. It’s supposed to help you fall asleep and stay asleep, according to the box the tea bags arrived in. My lip curls up into a villainous smirk. Soon she’ll be out like a corpse and I can finish up the rest of my plans for tonight. I’ve been anxiously waiting for this day, counting down the hours until I can slide into her slick wet pussy; feeling it clench around me tight and hot, while I listen to her moaning everything I tell her to. My thoughts wander to my lava-coated playground, obsessing over Amanda as I greedily wait for my opportunity to slip back inside the house undetected. It’s not long before she falls asleep watching her movie. After fifteen minutes of grueling waiting, I climb back through the window, then creep quietly into the basement.

Inside, I retrieve the backpack I left the other day from the crawl space and stealthily tip toe up the basement steps. Before I open the door, I slip the mask into place. If I’m caught, I don’t want her to see my face, not yet at least.

Now that I have free rein of the house for a few hours, I’ll be making myself nice and cozy. Upstairs, I stop in the kitchen first to refill the water in the vase with the flowers I sent her. They sit slowly dying on the kitchen counter, as the life seeps from them. It makes me excited to think I’ve already squirmed my way into her thoughts so many times.

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