I feel the cold of the refrigerator as I stand in front of it drinking milk straight from the gallon container. Some of it is dribbling down my chin as I take long slow gulps. I heard somewhere that it's impossible to finish an entire gallon of milk in five minutes but I feel as though I could dispatch this entire thing in 30 seconds.
I'm close to having had my fill when I hear a faint noise outside. I disregard it, but then I hear the door knob start to turn. The door creaks open. What the F***! The front door was unlocked?
My instincts take over. I quickly grab a kitchen knife out of the block and stealthily speed upstairs. I go to the bedroom and in one motion dive and slide under the bed. Moving about quickly and quietly has always been a gift of mine. I was confident that my unwelcome guest was not aware of my presence.
I lay under the bed petrified and second guessing my decision to confine myself to this hiding spot. Along with the fear I am also experiencing a nervous excitement. The feeling could almost be described as pleasant and I think it actually would be under less sinister circumstances.
I'm listening intently while tightly clutching my knife with my thumb over the pommel. Always make sure the blade of a knife is pointing down away from your thumb and have your thumb over the pommel so you don't slip off the handle and cut yourself. In an intense situation your palms could get sweaty or if you actually stab someone it's entirely possible you hit bone and the knife stops in its tracks sending your clenched fingers down over the blade.
Footsteps on the stairs.
Okay, here he comes. I concentrate on my breathing so not to reveal myself. F***! He comes straight to the bedroom. He's wearing Nike running shoes. His feet are small. He walks straight past the bed to the dresser. I keep telling myself to remain calm as I listen to drawers opening and closing. He goes into the master bath.
As I'm listening to the stranger in the bathroom I'm trying to decide if this is the opportunity to make my escape. Even if I'm perfectly quiet he might see me in the reflection of the mirror. Before I can make up my mind he's coming back.
He's now standing barefoot with his toes no more than 18 inches from my nose.
Delicate and petite feet. Painted toe nails. A small crescent moon tattoo on the left big toe.
This was no man.
I'm confused and staring at her feet when tiny white panties drop on top of them. She steps out of the panties and crawls into the bed on top of me.
What is going on? Does she know I'm here? Is she playing a game with me? My racing mind is interrupted by a booming masculine voice.
There are two of them!
"What the hell, hunny! You dug your freaking hands all through my sister's birthday cake and left the lid off the milk!" bellows the masculine voice from downstairs. I hear a confused sounding curse muttered above me.
I see her little feet hop off the bed.
Should I grab her ankle?
She scurries off before I can decide. I watch her bare bottom bounce out of the bedroom door and instantly I regret not taking action. Indecision will be the death of me.
Instead I reach out and grab her panties. I put them over my nose and mouth and slowly breathe in until my lungs are full. A soft guttural sound escapes my lips. It scares me a little. I'm typically in complete control.
I slide out from under the bed and pocket the panties. I'm feeling compelled to play whatever game this is that she's obviously trying to initiate. I'm also feeling a deep rage at whoever this guy is butting into our play time.
I look at the knife I had grabbed from the kitchen. Odd, my knuckles are white.
Like a ground spider after a cricket, I move low, quiet and fast. In mere seconds I am standing in the dining room peering around the door jam into the kitchen. Their backs are to me and they're arguing. My angelic game partner is glowing. She is so beautiful. I love her.
The man who is causing my love so much distress over something as stupid as a cake is a massive man. His neck is two of mine.
I stay in excellent condition. I have to. My recreational activities demand it. I do 100 pull ups, 1000 sit ups and run ten miles every other day. When I am in a physical altercation it always ends quickly with me as the victor. I like to think of myself as a sort of chivalrous white knight...and I would love nothing more than to save the damsel in distress right now, but even if I am able to take out this boulder of a man, it probably won't be quick.
I shrink away from them into the darkness of the dining room. I turn and make my way to the window in the living room which I had previously gained entry. As quiet as a church mouse I am outside and looking upon this castle which houses my princess.
Tonight wasn't meant to be, but I'll be back.
Submitted July 26, 2017 at 06:38PM by TheCreepyStache http://ift.tt/2uYeoAd nosleep
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