Surprise Stalker

I glance at my watch running a hand through my hair. What the fuck, I thought, what the hell is that woman doing up there?
” Come on, come on,” I hear a soft voice say. I glance behind me and see an attractive blonde dressed in a sleek black power suit. Her hair in a page boy, her eyes had a gleam in them. I quickly look back to the front so she wouldn’t catch me staring. I check out and check off another one of my errands that I had to do instead of eating. My last run, which as soon as I could complete would leave me a fast and furious fifteen minutes to eat my food, then to the office. I caught a flash of honey blonde and it is the blonde again, right behind me. ” I’ve never been stalked before,” I said before my brain processed the entire thought and mapped out any consequences, like being slapped or publicly humiliated.

Instead, Ellen gave me one of those dazzling smiles that you see on toothpaste commercials. ” Well, I’ve never stalked anyone before,” she said. She arches a perfect eye brow. ” So I guess we’re even, aren’t we?” ” I guess,” I said. I couldn’t stop staring at her. My eyes are doing their own thing by doing a quick up-down-up while she isn’t looking. She isn’t too tall and she isn’t too short, she is a perfect five-seven, five-eight, and looks drop-dead gorgeous in her suit. The jacket dipped low and I can see the crisp immaculate white of her blouse, framed in the V of the collar is a perfect crease of cleavage. I guessed she is a 38B. My eyes went on and processed everything and by the time I hit those feet, looking perfect on shiny leather stiletto heels that are about three inches high, I had to stuff a hand in my pocket to try and discretely adjust my growing cock. It didn’t help when I see what is in her hands. Condoms, two boxes of Trojans, the pleasure mesh and one of the her pleasure ones. And a bottle of KY lube. Along with an innocent packet of stockings. My head steamed.

” See anything you like?” she asks with a hint of smile. ” I … um,” I managed, tongue-tied. She juggled the two boxes of condoms, the bottle of lube, and the packet of stockings expertly in one perfectly manicured hand. Her hand is soft but her grasp is strong. Ellen’s hand lingers in mine for a bit and when she drew her hand away, she brushes her fingers along my palm, scraping ever-so-lightly with her nails. ” On your lunch hour?” she asks. ” What’s left of it,” I told her. She gives me another one of those smiles. ” Well, I live nearby,” Ellen said. ” I have a condo a couple blocks down. Would you like to come up for a bite to eat?” My brain processes the offer: beautiful blonde who I have fucked three times and is definitely into sex inviting me to her condo no less to have a bite to eat. She is a beautiful stalker, the promise of possible sex … hmmm …” Sure,” I said.

” Perfect,” Ellen said. She looks over my shoulder. ” Your turn,” she said. I hastily paid for my stuff and she did the same. Outside, she links her arm around mine, laying her hand lightly on my sleeve. I smell her perfume, soft, sweet, but powerful enough to get into my head in that good way. It isn’t making hiding my erection any easier as we cross the street. ” So, John, I’m happy I ran into you.” she said. We neared the posh looking apartment building and the doorman smiles when he saw us. ” Good afternoon, Miss Bryan and Mr Malone,” the doorman said, ” Home early?” Ellen gave a laugh. ” No, I’m just here to have lunch,” she said.
” Ah, a home cooked meal to fuel one through the day,” the man said. ” Enjoy your lunch, Miss Bryan, you, too, sir!” He tipped his hat and held open the door for us. Inside, the air conditioning ran thick and cool over us and it was a relief, cooling my heated skin but it didn’t do much to diminish the erection I’m hiding in my pants.

Ellen led me to the elevators and up to the condo, silent and smiling all the way. We rode up in the elevator, her eyes had a glint. When the doors dinged open, she steps inside. ” Welcome to my humble abode,” she said. Humble, I thought, right. White painted walls with scarlet carpets, stylish expensive new-age kind of furniture, chrome and black marble and stark white and bold colored paintings. She drops her purse on the red sofa and shrugs out of her business jacket to reveal a very nice and slightly sheer blouse underneath. I definitely see the curves of her breasts through the material but she can’t be wearing a bra underneath, could she? I mean, the way that it looks, with the hint of nipple, it had to be more of a tank top or something? But who was I to say? I just a man, who was I to question the wonders of female silky clothing bits?

” So, John, what do you like to eat?” she asks, walking into the kitchen. Her heels clicking nicely on the classy black and white tiled floor. ” Are you the sandwich type of man?” Ellen purrs as she opens up the fridge, bending at the waist to peer at the food items on lower shelves. I admire her ass, her black skirt stretched tight over it.