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I stumbled around his apartment, gathering my stuff for college in a frenzy, until it dawned on me.
Why was it so important I dashed away like a good girl to get to my lessons?
I hadn’t had a sick day in years. Not just from work, but from college too. Surely I could be a rebel for once in my life? Well, once more since I was the ultimate rebel already, being in the apartment ofthe man upstairs.
There was a note on the coffee table. Julian had beautiful handwriting, almost calligraphic, on lovely thick lined paper.
I didn’t want to disturb Sleeping Beauty. Stay as long as you want, sweetheart.
His words made me smile. I hoped he meant it. My apartment downstairs felt distant. My own bedroom felt like a nasty tomb after Scottie pinned me down that night. I didn’t ever want to sleep in there again.
There was a message on my phone from Mum. A three-word question.
Are you ok?
I was on top of the world, but I couldn’t tell her that. I’d never be able to face her off and tell her I was in crazy besotted love with the man upstairs. I typed out a simple answer, with another flash of rebellion at a little white lie.
I’m good, thanks. Stayed with Jenny. It was great.
I didn’t know who Jenny was, but she could be a good alibi.
I got myself an orange juice and a bowl of muesli with cut up berries. I was cosy in one of Julian’s shirts as I sat cross legged on his sofa and flicked on his TV. There was nothing I wanted to watch on there, but I didn’t care, I just liked the sensation of being in his space.
I hugged one of his gold brocade cushions when I was done with my breakfast, lounging around against the leather chesterfield, my pussy still sore from Julian’s cock. The flutters right through me said it all. I was absolutely consumed by the man who took my virginity last night. I was already so caught up in him I was losing my mind.
Julian Lockley. Forty-eight years old. An ex-university professor, with a wife called Katreya, two grown up kids, and a kink for big age gaps and filth.
The need to know more tickled at me…
It was only a matter of time before I dug into details online. I couldn’t help myself. I called up social media and typed in his name, but there was no sign of him anywhere. I did a more generic online search and a Companies House directory listing came up. Resurgence Therapy. The address was registered in Oxford, and he was named as joint director with Katreya. There were news articles, too. My heart was in my stomach as I clicked on a therapy awards article. Resurgence had won the National Commission Counselling award last year, and the ceremony was in London. I scrolled through the article and the pictures, stopping with a hitch of breath when I saw him there, his arm around a beautiful woman with dark blonde hair.Julian and Katreya.
His wife was stunning. Tall and sleek, in a deep green satin dress, and as for Julian, words couldn’t do him justice. His suit was tailored perfectly and he was standing tall and proud, with a lovey bright smile. His hair was slicked back. Professional.
Gorgeous.
That should have been enough online stalking, but now the trapdoor was open, I couldn’t stop myself jumping in.
I went back to social media and typed in the fatal wordsKatreya Lockley.I could hardly look as the listings came up. She was right there at the top. It was definitely her on the profile pic, her hair blowing in the wind with a beach in the background. Her profile was public, not private.
Her latest post was a picture of her with a younger, dark-haired woman with a baby on her lap. I knew without reading that the woman next to her was Grace, her daughter. She had Julian’s eyes.
Katreya’s profile picture had been the same for almost six months exactly. I scrolled back and found a photo of her and Julian, sitting in a garden together with Grace’s baby girl on her lap.Our beautiful little Emily, the caption said, and there were so many comments, from so many friends and family with hearts and smiles. There amongst them wasGrace, and a few comments down wasRyan. Should I click on them? Really?
Damn it, of course I did.
I scrolled through every picture and post I could find, seeing Julian in a hundred different places with members of his family. Old pictures of him and Katreya, when Grace and Ryan were just kids. I saw Julian at social gatherings, on family holidays, at Emily’s birthday parties. His house was incredible, and his lifestyle was glorious. Even their sweet Labrador, Barney, was beautiful. There were more award ceremonies involving tuxedos, and group pics with employees of their therapy business. It made me sick to the stomach at the contrast between his life then and now.
How could I ever compare? I was just a gawky young girl from a shitty background, with a stash of cash only just big enough to help with Mum’s overdue bills.
I should have quit stalking there, but I didn’t. I focused on Grace’s profile next, taking a breath before I called up herfriendslist. So many pretty girls with stunning hair and amazing makeup, grins and poses and perfect pouts.
I knew who I was looking for. It took quite a lot of scrolling until I found her, but she was very recognisable, even in a tight tee and jeans.Maisie Halterton.The girl in the pictures in Julian’s wardrobe. She was engaged now, to a hot young guy in a polo shirt, with a sparkling diamond ring on her finger.Yours foreverthe caption on their proposal pictures said, and I felt a stupid wave of relief.
It was weird seeing her in a more normal context, without her pussy spread with a huge dildo, andslutscrawled across her tits.
I couldn’t help but wonder how many other people on Grace’s friends list Julian might have had sex with. How many others had been desperate for him, offering themselves up for dildos and marker pen? What else had he done with them? What were the limits of his filth?
The very thought gave me a nervous thrill, but one thing I did know was that I would do all of it. Everything and anything he wanted me to. I wanted to see him at his limits, no matter how dark, how filthy, how extreme. There was nothing I didn’t want from him. He had stormed into my soul and taken hold. The rabbit hole could swirl into the utter pits of perversion, but I wouldn’t care. All I’d want was him.
