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The road dead ended a few meters behind her, so there was no way Alan Marshall could hope to sneak up to her. Her muscles tensed as she spotted headlights turning onto the street, but the Indian transmitted into her ear that this was not her target’s arrival. Her hands were sticky, and she wiped them free of tree sap against her black robes. She waited a long time. Most of the lights in the houses were already out for the night as she ate a simple meal of sticky rice wrapped in seaweed. From time to time a car came down the lane, but each time her earpiece crackled with the information that the vehicle in question was not her target’s car. She wore no timepiece but knew the hour was very late. Many a time as she waited she considered meditating, but rejected the idea, wanting to remain fully alert. Two pinpricks of light appeared in the distance, enlarging as the car approached. This time it was him. She rolled her head, loosening her muscles. The car pulled up to the house, not. He placed his hand on my bare leg, moving it upwards slowly, giving me the goose bumps. I stopped trying to enter my apartment as he continued to stroke up and down my leg. He moved my skirt up and grabbed the side of my knickers with his fist, pulling hard and forcing the material to rip, leaving me knickerless. As I stood there, I felt his other hand move down between our bodies removing his shaft from his already undone jeans. ‘I told you I was always behind,’ he whispered into my ear as he pushed inside of me. I gasped as my body adjusted to the feel of him again, pulling him deeper inside of me. He leaned over me, took the keys from my hand and opened the door to my place, giving me the option of staying in the doorway with him, or moving inside. I desperately wanted to move inside, as to not get caught, but the feeling of him, sat inside me was too much for me to let go. I stood where I was, waiting for him to make his next move, I knew it was coming. Yet he stood there, just.
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