CHAPTER 1.
"Whew–out of breath!"
Grace addressed this remark to her black and gray tabby that had been waiting for her
just inside the door.
"It was GREAT, Jazz! All 5 miles–I jogged it all–battling showers and high winds,
but it was fun!"
She`d had her MP3 player and was rockin` out ... and reminiscing! The overture and first
song from "Man of La Mancha" was on there reminding her of when she played in
that production with Theater of the Stars in Atlanta back in the day. She was
concertmistress that year (as close to being anybody`s mistress as she was ever likely to
get!)
The showers, rain slanting sometimes almost parallel to the ground, not heavy but really
tiny drops that felt like sand hitting her face and the wind gusting with a roar every few
seconds, had sort of left her totally alone with her thoughts. One of Grace`s problems
with doing her morning walks was that she tended to lose her attention on anything but the
music and her innermost considerations. And there were always those things going on in her
mind.
It had been a long time since she had felt the warm touch of a man; an outrageously long
time. It wasn`t that she didn`t think about sex. In truth, it was almost always on her
mind, even when she was sleeping apparently, if her dreams on recent nights could be any
indication. And when Joy had gone away to school, she was left with so much free time that
the erotic television screen in her head seemed to always feature whatever she most
realized was missing in her life at the moment.
This, combined with the exhilaration of the music she had been listening to, had her
musing about whether it was time for her to take that "toy" she`d ordered from a
catalog on a whim into the shower with her. Usually the handheld shower massage was enough
to do the trick, but today she wanted more...
***
The dark figure stood still and quiet just as the edge of the wooded area near her house
as the well-endowed lady came jogging by. He had watched her day in and day out, wondering
why she was always alone. Over several weeks, he`d gotten closer until he had seen her
home. She had not been forthcoming about where she lived when they had chatted in the
"real" world, but he had been successful in prying out of her the fact that she
jogged daily, rain or shine. Then yesterday, while she was on her morning constitutional,
he had slipped inside. The very first thing he noted was the sweet fragrance. That smell
delivered to him a dozen confirmations. First, she lived without a man in the house. In
fact, he was pretty sure she lived completely alone. No pet odors, except maybe a cat
although there was no sign of one at the moment, no cooking odors other than coffee. She
probably ate out a lot.
This was exactly the situation he needed for his hobby to work. He rummaged through
drawers throughout the house and found things he knew would work when the time presented
itself. He mentally recorded locations and left with a large margin of time before her
expected return.
He hated it when people called her "Gracie". She was grace personified. Grace.
That was something good given when punishment was expected, unlike mercy, which was
sparing someone punishment that they most assuredly deserved. He imagined he`d be doling
out some of both before much longer.
And now he was waiting for this very moment, as she jogged past, slightly winded and
totally oblivious to his presence. She turned at her concrete drive and slowed only
slightly going up the slight incline. As soon as she passed the corner of the house, he
followed, looking up and down the road to verify that there were no eyes watching him.
Today was that perfect opportunity that would always present itself to one willing to be
patient.
***
Grace entered the sun porch at the back corner of the house and through the back door
into the kitchen. She needed a shower and some dry clothes. Down the hall to her bedroom,
she rifled through the drawer she always thought of as her "personals." Since it
was a rainy and gloomy grey day, she would reverse that in her choices. She had a good tan
and realized that she could wear her "sunshine" on the inside as she chuckled
slightly to herself, pulling out bright yellow bikini panties and a matching camisole.
Now, where was that little vibrator? She had put it in the very back of this drawer–who
exactly she was hiding it from, she didn`t know. Well, it wasn`t there now–she`d worry
about that later.
She shucked her soaking sweats, pushed off her sneakers and socks and tossed them on the
ceramic tile of the bathroom floor. She really needed to put them in the washer as soon as
she finished her hot shower. She spent at least ten minutes under the hot stream,
automatically going through her cleansing routine. She didn`t have a single deadline in
the next forty eight hours. No one expecting her, no obligations that needed to be met,
was not only pleasing, but unusual. Now it was time to reward her self with that pounding
stream of water–after all, who else was gong to pleasure her? She closed her eyes; for
some reason, she turned her back to the shower door, knowing it was just transparent
glass.
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