Diary of a Stalker

I am invisible to her, she never sees me, even when I stood next to her and her son at the bookstore. He looks like her, nothing like his father. He has her eyes, her complexion and most of all her smile. The first time I saw her smile, I was infected, the image consumed everything in me like cancer and then I could think of nothing else but her. She smells like lavender and vanilla, so delicious and enticing.

I know she has never thought twice about me since our first encounter; two feet from her desk. I can't stop thinking of her. I close my eyes and I imagine her walking towards me. I study her from head to toe, her carefully shaped eyebrows, her sharp Italian nose that adds to her exotic looks, her succulent lips plump and red. My eyes dance over her voluptuous body, full like her lips. Her fingers and toes always so manicured. I wonder if her husband still looks at her the way I do. Does he touch her toes? I would. She is smiling and her confidence radiates off of her. The more I think of her the more aroused I become, I call her. (I only have her work number, I got it off her business card. I looked her up once but the number I found was no longer valid.) She answers the phone and I say nothing, I just listen. She hangs up, I call back, and she hangs up, calling back for a third time my favorite. I can almost see the fire in her eyes now. I wish I were standing next to her at that moment.

I love her eyes, brown like autumn; they truly are the windows to her soul. One day she was having lunch on a bench and I saw her writing in a book, her eye's kept changing. They were on fire, they looked deep through the paper she was writing on, then they became dark and vacant as if recalling something that strangled her essence. I sat there staring at her wanting to lick the tears off her cheek. I wanted to taste her, she looked up and smiled at me, I got up. She had sent me an invitation, but then some guy walked past me and sat next to her. A friend? He must have known her because the tears stop flowing and soon after her laughter rang in the air. Her eyes are alive again; they get up and walk off in the direction of her office. I love to watch her walk. The swaying of her hips, the tightening of her calves. Poetry in motion. I waited a while then I called her from the phone next to her office.

It's five-o clock now, I hate five-o clock because that means she is going home and I can't hear her voice again until morning, but I get to watch her as she waits for her husband. She gets to work at six thirty every morning; I sit there in my car and wonder why, because her office does not open till eight thirty. What does she do in those two hours?

After her husband picks her up I think about her and what she may be doing tonight. I get aroused… I imagine her next to me, I smell lavender and vanilla, my manhood erupts.

Morning comes and I can't wait to hear her voice, I call her on my way home from work. I can hear her smile on the phone. I don't say a word but she knows it's me, we have been sharing these calls for weeks. One day I'll say something to her, one day I'll tell her how much she means to me but for now I just want to hear her voice.

I met someone today that looks so much like her. She does not smell like lavender and vanilla but more like a rainy day. She does not float gracefully when she walks, she stumbles and is inelegant but she will do.


She loves my car, fast and sleek. She says she has never met anyone like me… she lies. I bought her some pretty dresses just like my sweeties. I asked her to wear my favorite one to church on Sunday. I always go to church on Sundays; my true love sits four rows ahead of me with the mistake and our child.

I tell sweet look a like that I have a surprise for her; I take her to the same stylist that my love trusts with her beautiful locks. I tell her that sweet look alike would like a make over, she longs for a new image. Her brows are almost perfect, her hair short and the color almost a match. She has her hands and toes done, she is almost as breathtaking as the original but she is missing the sparkle and fire in her eyes.


I tell look a like that we are going to my families beach house the following weekend. I laid with look alike but made love to my soul mate. I had six cameras hidden through out the house catching every act from every angle. I made sure she never looked in the direction of the camera because then she would ruin all of my work. We have a great time those few days, but her job is done.


I watched the videos of my love and me on our special weekend. I wondered if she was thinking of it too. I called her and played it loud so she could hear herself at how much pleasure I gave her. She got upset and pretended it never happened. I called her back and began to moan the way I did when I was with her. I guess I embarrassed her because she hung up. I called again but a man answered so I hung up, she must have stepped out to the ladies room. I love her and our son.


I have to talk to her, she seems to be upset. She has not answered the phone all week. What is happening? I thought our weekend went so well.


I see her, she is with him, and I don't know what she sees in him. He is not suitable for her, he does not have anything to offer her, I had him checked out by his plates. He is using her.

Wow she answers the phone and before I know what I am saying I tell her in an almost inaudible whisper "I missed you!" She is still angry. I called her all week with our videos playing, knowing she would remember how great we are together. Some one must have been around, she hung up every time.


She looks gorgeous today. She and I are at the same meeting, we are on the same community board. I never heard a word the speaker said because I could not take my eyes off of her. The woman sitting next to me from the TV station noticed I was preoccupied and asked me "Who is she?" I replied "How do you know?" She said "I remember that look!" I pointed my sweetie out and told her how madly in love I was and that she was upset with me but I was not sure why. I confessed that I may have been moving too fast and that she was not ready for such a commitment. The lady from the TV station told me to be diligent that my sweetie would come back.


I called her when she got back to her office and I told her I had been thinking about her, she hung up. Still angry.


I know if I keep playing her the tapes that she will remember how much she loves me. I know if I keep showing her how much pleasure we brought each other that she will return.


I saw her today in that flowing black skirt that I so love on her. It accents her assets if you know what I mean. I can't help but call her over and over today. My God she needs to understand that I need her. The end of the day is coming and I am at work with her on my mind, I see her in my head with that skirt I love so much. I call her, she answered the phone, I say "I love your sweet big ass" in the most lovable way. She asked me to repeat myself; she wants to hear me compliment her ass again. She remembers! I say "I love that black skirt on you, but I would rather see it off." She hangs up. I am so confused I wait a bit then I call her back, I say " So baby are you gonna give me some of that sweet ass?" Something happens she says the police are tracing the call, I don't understand I hang up. What just happened? I hear dispatch on the radio they need an officer at her office. Is she ok? I am about to say I will respond to the call when someone else says he is already there, he was on site. What's happening? Why does she need the police?


I ran into the guy that answered the call a few hours later and he said she had a harassing caller. Some crazy guy that has sex on the phone when he calls her, he said this freak calls her everyday and moans and watches porn while on the phone with her. She said she has been getting these calls for months but that today he described her clothing and she feels he threatened to sexually assault her. She knows that he is just not some perv calling a random number he is a stalker.


No wonder she has been upset, it's not me she is upset with it's this perv that's been calling her. I can't let anything happen to the love of my life the mother of my child. I will make it a point to stay closer to her from now on. What kind of police officer would I be if I couldn't even protect the woman I love?