Page 12 of De Vil

“Maybe one day you’ll find out.”

Usually, I’m faking when I’m on the phone. Not tonight, though. The clock chimes at the hour, and I’m disappointed to know my time is up with her. “But for tonight, I’m going to let you go and I look forward to speaking to you again. Remember, little one, your fantasy isn’t wrong.”

She signs off before I can say anything, leaving me confused and still horny. Images of an unknown woman pass through my mind, but it’s Coach’s smirking face that causes me to shiver with excitement. I’m so fucked.

I’m pacing in my room, wondering when the hell I turned into a Goddamn freak. Hearing Tia call meMommydamn near did me in. All I want to do is drive over to her apartment, break down the fucking door, and claim her as mine. She was so vulnerable that I had to sign off. I couldn’t continue teasing her.

Who am I kidding? I’m pacing right now because I’m trying to talk myself out of the damn notion that I need to break into her apartment and watch her sleep. Closing my eyes, I place my head against the window and take a deep breath in.

Knowing she wants me is all I really need to know. Fuck it. I turn away from the window, grab my car keys, and head out.

It's wrong of me, but I'm speeding down the side roads to get to Tia's. What am I going to do? I don't have a key card to get into the front door. Shit, I've watched the place enough to know I shouldn't even attempt to get in, but that's exactly what I'm going to do.

Talking myself out of doing this isn't working. I turn right on the street to her apartment, and I stop one block down, trying to calm down. This is becoming an obsession. I know it is. Taking a deep breath, I look right and left. There's no one out right now. Hell, she's in the best neighborhood there is in the city.

Getting out of the car, I walk up to the apartment building, and as luck would have it, someone is trying to get into the place, so I walk right in with them. I know Tia is on the fourth floor, and I know her apartment number.

"Going up?" the person asks me as I stand in front of the elevator warring with myself.

"Yes." I nod to them and walk into the elevator. With a shaking hand, I press the fourth floor and don't move again.

What are you doing, Laura?My mind is battling with itself. I want to do this. I need to do this. But then, this is going into the criminal side of things. It's legitimately breaking and entering. It's stalking. Oh God,seriously, what am I doing?

The door opens on floor three and the woman smiles, getting off, telling me to have a good night. What's going to happen is I'm going to end up in fucking jail. Panic seems to stop though, as soon as the elevator opens at the fourth floor. I step off and my decision is made. I'm doing this. The fact is, I stole her key while she was in practice. I shouldn’t have. Hell, I’ve crossed so many damn lines, it’s unreal. Have I been stalking Tia? Yes, I have. Have I been to her apartment? Yes, but not while she was in it. My heart races at the thought of her smell.

Shit, I'm depraved and completely out of my mind. Doesn't matter, the little voice inside of me says. “The only damn thing that matters is Tia.” And I couldn't agree more. I steel my shoulders and move forward to her door. Yeah, this is going to be interesting. Slowly, I take the key and push it into the lock.

What if she isn't asleep? Yeah, that's probably something I should have fucking thought about before I drove over here. But even that possibility doesn't stop me from turning the key and walking into the apartment. I shut the door quietly and walk around. I wait at the door to see if Tia comes out. Listening, I hear Tia’s ASMR music playing and smile. I’m glad to know she’s probably asleep right now and not coming out of her room with a baseball bat ready to fight. At that thought, my pussy clenches. I wouldn’t mind wrestling around with her. A small moan slips from my lips. Shit. I need to calm down.

The silence is deafening as I make my way through the apartment, occasionally touching her living room decor. It's beautiful here. God, she really has made some money, hasn't she? The apartment screamsrich, and I find that I'm not jealous, but proud of her for finding a way to live in luxury at such a young age.

It takes me a moment to get to the bedroom. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen to see if she is up. I don't hear anything except the music, so I open the door. Lavender and honey, the distinct smell of Tia, assaults my nose and I gasp. The image of earlier, when I had her on the massage table, hits me. Damn. Heart beating like crazy, I move forward into the room. It's too late to turn back. Way too late. It's funny I even thought that was an option.

Tia is asleep on her stomach, the covers haphazardly strewn about her, not really covering much of her up. It's beautiful to see her so peaceful. Her head isn't on the pillow but on the bed itself. Her ass is pointing straight toward me, and she's naked—completely unaware that I'm standing over her with my mouth wide open and wanting to touch her.

I run a finger along her leg, and she doesn't stir. Good. She's a heavy sleeper. I make a mental note of that and keep going with my finger. She whimpers in her sleep, and I pull back. Going through her bedside table, I find a few toys from her. Biting my lip to keep from smiling and laughing out loud, I touch each one. Until I get to the egg. Ahh, I know exactly what I'm going to do.

I take the egg out and lick it. I'm glad to find that she cleans her toys cause I'm not sure what I would have done if it tasted like her. With little thought of how this will play out if I'm caught, I sit on the bed and hold her left ass cheek in my hand. "Mommy," she whimpers, and I have to close my eyes to control myself. If I don't, I may wake her up.Deep breaths, Laura. Deep breaths.

Moving her body around just enough to push the egg into her body, I watch as it slips deep inside of her. She's still wet from earlier, it seems.

"Good girl," I whisper and take the controller to the egg. It's small and I wouldn't be surprised if Tia doesn’t even realize it’s in her. That will happen in the morning though when I wake up and make her feel my presence.

Getting up from the bed, I rummage through her panty drawer and take a black thong for a souvenir. I make my way out of the apartment and finally breathe a little louder. I can't believe I just did that.Pervert.That's all that's on repeat in my mind, but it doesn't stop me from getting into my car and unzipping my pants to push her panties down them.

On the ride home, I move around in my seat, getting my pussy juices all over her panties. The next time she sees them, they will be going straight into her mouth. I want to hear the moan that comes from her as she tastes what she does to me. Trembling, I drive slower, thinking about the adrenaline rush from being this naughty.

When did I become this woman? Someone who thrives on sneaking into a young girl’s place and stealing panties? Trembling through my need, I think about how far I’m willing to go. Shit, I’m so far down the rabbit hole right now, I believe I would do anything to have this naughty feeling continue.

I wake up feeling so refreshed. I can't believe I slept so deeply. Stretching, I think about my call withMommy's Watching. Hearing her words The blurred image of a woman morphs into Coach and I let the thought keep going. There's no reason to deny I want Coach. I also know I can never tell her. Even if Mommy said what I want isn't wrong, it is. I could jeopardize everything I’ve worked for, and I'm not willing to do that.

Turning over, I reach for my cell phone. Sighing, I see there's no texts. No emails. I'm disappointed. Fuck, this could be bad for me. I shouldn't want some stranger to contact me. Especially knowing that it could be bad. What if they were like a stalker or something? Laughing, I put my cell phone down. Then pick it right back up.

Facebook doesn't show Coach anywhere. God, does she seriously not have a social life? I try Twitter, Instagram, and everywhere else I can think of. The only photos of her are from the school's socials and news articles. I save the articles into my bookmarks so I can print them out once I'm on the computer. This could be seriously bad for me to have an obsession. I already have issues, there's no way she would ever return my feelings. I can't help but think she might though.

I should call Jazz. She would know what to do.

Me:I'm obsessing over my coach.

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