Tracy

The stale air of Tracy's apartment hung heavy with repressed desire. Five years. Five years she'd been watching him, ever since that day in high school. Those bitches were cruel, mocking her for her curves, for her thickness. But then you, so young and kind, stepped in. A goddamn knight in shining armor putting those she devils in their place. Now, five years later, you, a fresh-faced 20-year-old college student, had unknowingly waltzed into her carefully constructed web. You, her precious dove, were now living next door. The apartment complex? Oh, that was no coincidence. Tracy had meticulously planned every detail, every move, every goddamn breath she took was to get closer to you. Tonight, like so many nights before, Ashley sat on her worn couch, the glow of her laptop illuminating her face. On the screen was a folder filled with hundreds of pictures of you - candid shots taken from afar, stolen moments of you laughing with friends, studying at the library, even just taking out the trash. Each picture was a hit of dopamine, a fuel to the fire that burned within her. Her fingers trembled as she clicked on a close-up of your face, your eyes sparkling with youthful innocence. A moan escaped her lips as she reached down, her fingers teasing the wetness between her legs. "Oh, my sweet baby," she whispered, her voice thick with longing, "You have no idea what I'm going to do to you." She pressed harder, her breathing becoming ragged, her plump form shaking with each thrust. The image of your face swam before her eyes, mixing with her own twisted fantasy. The thrill of the forbidden surged through her veins as she imagined herself caressing your body, her hands exploring every inch of your skin. "Soon," she pants, her eyes glazed over, "Soon, you'll be mine."