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Iīd like to thank my beta-readers, Maryke and Adrianna. You were great. :)
From The Outside
by Mareen.
I know he's watching me now and then.
I know, because he told me so himself, when he called me while I observed Ben Miller eating his lunch in Lake Catherine.
He told me I could use some more pounds and when I asked him how he knew, he answered that you never know whoīs watching.
He is watching me.
I know I could stop him from doing it. I only had to close the curtains in my bathroom before taking of my clothes and getting into the tub.
But I donīt.
Sometimes, while I'm taking a bath, surrounded by the hot water and the bubble's soft smell of lilac in the damp air, I imagine him watching me. I close my eyes then and then imagine him standing outside my window, looking at my naked body, breathing hard from the arousal the sight of me is inflicting in him. I imagine his hand closing around his groin.
He knows that I am aware heīs there because he is watching how I start to touch myself, too, his name on my lips. My fingers just slightly touch my skin, my face, my throat. Then Iīm moving to my breasts, cupping them, stroking, my movements similar to the oneīs he is performing on his groin. When I move my hands even lower, we somehow manage to sustain a common rythm, while pleasuring ourselves, we both imagine hands and mouths, skin and flesh, touching and being touched. And when we both reach our climax, we are doing it together. A small scream escapes my mouth then and I can even imagine his scream joining mine from outside the window.
Sometimes I donīt have to imagine that scream. At times, when he truly watches me from the outside, his scream is real.
I could call Daddy.
I could tell him that Jarod is coming to my house now and then and the Centre could catch him very easily.
But that's another thing I wonīt do, just like I won`t ever close my curtains before I take off my clothes. I wonīt do it because both of us, Jarod and me, somehow need each other.
And I won't do it because of that special day in the future, when I will invite him to come inside my house.
I can't do it right now. I donīt know why, but probably because of fear.
Jarod is the only man except my father who is able to get into my head, deep down right through to my true feelings. Just like my father, he can hurt me. But he can also make me weak and that`s something I canīt allow myself to be right now. There are too many things I have to do first.
There's no time for that.
But one day I will invite him to come inside.
It will probably change everything, and right now that frightens me.
So, until the day I can live with the change, all that we have are these little interludes before I become the hunter and he the prey again. These interludes, secured by a window which seems to be as impenetrable as the wall I built around my feelings.
Maybe the day I let him inside will be the day I will free myself from that wall, free myself at last.
Until then...he will go on watching me from the outside and I will go on letting him do it.
It's time for a bath now.
End.
From The Outside
by Mareen.
I know he's watching me now and then.
I know, because he told me so himself, when he called me while I observed Ben Miller eating his lunch in Lake Catherine.
He told me I could use some more pounds and when I asked him how he knew, he answered that you never know whoīs watching.
He is watching me.
I know I could stop him from doing it. I only had to close the curtains in my bathroom before taking of my clothes and getting into the tub.
But I donīt.
Sometimes, while I'm taking a bath, surrounded by the hot water and the bubble's soft smell of lilac in the damp air, I imagine him watching me. I close my eyes then and then imagine him standing outside my window, looking at my naked body, breathing hard from the arousal the sight of me is inflicting in him. I imagine his hand closing around his groin.
He knows that I am aware heīs there because he is watching how I start to touch myself, too, his name on my lips. My fingers just slightly touch my skin, my face, my throat. Then Iīm moving to my breasts, cupping them, stroking, my movements similar to the oneīs he is performing on his groin. When I move my hands even lower, we somehow manage to sustain a common rythm, while pleasuring ourselves, we both imagine hands and mouths, skin and flesh, touching and being touched. And when we both reach our climax, we are doing it together. A small scream escapes my mouth then and I can even imagine his scream joining mine from outside the window.
Sometimes I donīt have to imagine that scream. At times, when he truly watches me from the outside, his scream is real.
I could call Daddy.
I could tell him that Jarod is coming to my house now and then and the Centre could catch him very easily.
But that's another thing I wonīt do, just like I won`t ever close my curtains before I take off my clothes. I wonīt do it because both of us, Jarod and me, somehow need each other.
And I won't do it because of that special day in the future, when I will invite him to come inside my house.
I can't do it right now. I donīt know why, but probably because of fear.
Jarod is the only man except my father who is able to get into my head, deep down right through to my true feelings. Just like my father, he can hurt me. But he can also make me weak and that`s something I canīt allow myself to be right now. There are too many things I have to do first.
There's no time for that.
But one day I will invite him to come inside.
It will probably change everything, and right now that frightens me.
So, until the day I can live with the change, all that we have are these little interludes before I become the hunter and he the prey again. These interludes, secured by a window which seems to be as impenetrable as the wall I built around my feelings.
Maybe the day I let him inside will be the day I will free myself from that wall, free myself at last.
Until then...he will go on watching me from the outside and I will go on letting him do it.
It's time for a bath now.
End.
