Page 31 of Stalker

If that made me a bad person, so the fuck be it.

I’d achieved so much success, but personal happiness had been placed low on the radar. Maybe I just needed a fix in addition to forgetting about the son of a bitch for a little while.

After returning home and locking the door, I grabbed a glass of wine and immediately headed to the guest bedroom first, taking the stairs to the third floor more slowly than normal. I’d never used my own bedroom for privacy purposes, the guest room adorned with more… evocative pieces and a lush, royal purple comforter. I kept my toys locked inside one drawer, certain pieces of lingerie in another. Other than David staying over a few nights in the years we’d been together, no one had stayed in the room so there was no need to worry my tricks of the trade would be found.

When I walked inside, I took a deep breath, the scent of the vanilla and brown sugar cinnamon room freshener catching my attention first. Then the moonlight streaming in through the open blinds, which was a reminder just how private I needed to keep my life. I flicked the wall switch and immediately shut them, realizing my nerves were more on edge than normal.

How silly, since I’d done this dozens of times over the years.

After adjusting the lights to provide some ambiance, I pulled out the tripod and placed the camera in the right position, easing back a step and taking a deep breath. Yes, the angle should work. The shoot tonight would be more intimate than usual. The specially designed holder came complete with a remote control I could easily use. Tonight, I’d remain on the bed. Sometimes I videoed myself in the shower or on the kitchen table. I didn’t feel especially creative tonight. I removed my clothes, leaving on only my sexy purple bra and thong.

Sometimes, I wore kinkier lingerie including thigh highs and crotchless panties or a bustier that barely contained my breasts, but I didn’t have the creativity within.

My breaths were shallow as I pulled the small key for the dresser drawers off the top of the doorframe. A strange tingling sensation shifted through me as I opened my bottom dresser drawer, selecting a passion purple vibrator and the teal-colored vibrating bumpy beads for my asshole. It had been a long time since I’d used them and even longer since I’d filmed myself with them. Why not shoot the moon tonight?

With everything ready, I headed into my bedroom, trying to push myself into the special mindset I’d crafted since the first time I’d dared to defy my shyness and step naked in front of a camera. I wasn’t the highly educated attorney any longer, but a woman addicted to sex like some were to crack cocaine.

But it wasn’t just about sex.

The wired high was about embracing the darker side of me. Just thinking about what little Cash had said about the Dark Nights game and the Obsidian Society had been an eye opener.

I tossed the clothing into the hamper, kicking off my lower heels and grabbing a pair of stilettos. Men preferred the strappy heels to anything clunky. This time, I decided on a mask just in case. Because of David’s threat, I was more nervous than I’d been in a long time.

But that only created a new layer to the sheer excitement. This was risky and dangerous, at least to my career. Yet I was salivating at the thought of being someone else.

I moved into the bathroom, flicking on the light. The mirror immediately grabbed my attention. Very slowly, I moved closer, placing my hands on the granite counter as I leaned in to study my reflection. The woman staring back at me was no longer the doe-eyed girl eager to right wrongs and rid the world of terrible criminals. I’d worked so hard, foregoing going to parties and out to dance clubs with friends.

I’d eaten ramen noodle soup for two years almost exclusively. I laughed at the thought. I knew every flavor they made and how to enhance the taste by using the cheapest ingredients. I’d worked my way up the ladder at the office. I’d sacrificed vacations and even days off and for what?

For what?

The answer had once been so easy. Now? I just didn’t know what I wanted out of my career any longer. The lines between right and wrong were becoming blurred. How was that possible when I was a black and white person? You were either good or bad.

“Who are you?” I asked.

The girl only smirked in reply.

Sighing, I grabbed my hairbrush and hairspray, taking a few minutes to make the vixen hiding inside of me appear as wild as she craved being.

The look was messy, sexy, and as if I’d just spent hours in bed with a hot and hungry man.

If only…

Grabbing the passion purple lipstick, I pursed my lips as I stained them the perfect color. A few touches of shimmering powder and the look was exactly what I wanted. It was amazing what a few alterations in a person’s appearance could do. Satisfied, I left the bathroom and headed back to my private boudoir. I even lit a candle for my personal ambiance.

Now for the seductive music to finish the scene.

Ah, yes, perfection. I’d put together several playlists. Tonight, I selected one with constant, tribal beats. That should get their blood pumping and their cocks twitching.

With everything in place, I took a few sips of wine and donned the mask before starting the video. I’d upload it to the Sugar Babies site as soon as I was finished. While I didn’t need or want a sugar daddy, the site’s clients did pay exceptionally well for the privilege of leering at young pussies.

I bent over, smiling as I always did to start the scene, dragging my tongue around my lips. “Good evening. Come play with me.”

This wasn’t just about creating a sex video for the hundreds of men who tuned into my channel. This was about providing a wet dream that could be remembered for nights to come.

So I danced.

Dancing had always been a passion, although few people ever witnessed my letting go. It was just another little secret and I had more of them than I realized. But so what?

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