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dressed; but, beneath it all, I sense a femininity that Takako Matsu (more pictures) just can't
On several occasions, I have attempted to start conversations with my
lovely supervisor. Each time Takako Matsu (more pictures) cuts me short with an "I'm too busy to
talk just now" or "Maybe later, Storm. Maybe later." But the hinted at
"later" never seems to arrive. Takako Matsu (with feature gallery) once suggested that "perhaps you need
a little more to do, if you have time enough to chat!"
I become obsessed with Lysilph. I daydream of Takako Matsu in my arms: Lysilph
in my bed, naked except for thigh-high black lace stockings; Lysilph in
the shower, dressed in a sheer nylon nightgown; Lysilph kneeling before
me, dressed in black satin bra and panties, begging me to love her;
Lysilph on my arm as I stride into a fine restaurant, quiet and adoring;
Lysilph beside me in my restored Volvo, the hem of Takako Matsu skirt pulled to
her crotch exposing dark stockings and white thighs, Takako Matsu hand massaging
My work, strangely enough, does not suffer. It even seems to improve.
I work my frustrations off by paying more attention to detail and to the
technical aspects of my job. The superior work I am doing draws
Lysilph's notice. "The security system you devised for the proprietary
files was superb, Storm. I'm very pleased with it. And you." Takako Matsu (with feature gallery) smiles.
"How about a coffee and croissant to celebrate then, Boss?"
"Sorry. No time. Maybe later," the smile vanishes. Takako Matsu (with feature gallery) turns and
strides away. I watch the subtle sway of Takako Matsu hips and the movement of
her full buttocks under the skirt of her suit as Takako Matsu (more pictures) returns to her
I follow Takako Matsu home one evening, and park in a tree line just South of
her house. I watch Takako Matsu through the windows with my binoculars as she
goes about Takako Matsu evening activities. I even follow her to the mall on her
lunch hour, and observe Takako Matsu purchases from a distance.
As a result, I become as familiar with Takako Matsu habits as I am with my
own. For instance: Takako Matsu (with feature gallery) prefers to shop at Victoria's Secret. She likes
fine sherry and the music of Andrew Lloyd Webber. And Takako Matsu (more pictures) loves to read.
Every evening after dinner, Takako Matsu (more pictures) turns on the stereo and sits down in
front of a fire with a book and a glass of sherry. When Takako Matsu (more pictures) becomes
drowsy, Takako Matsu (more pictures) sets the timer to turn off the stereo, and goes upstairs to
My obsession grows. And, with it, a plan. A long weekend is coming
up. I know from earlier conversations that Lysilph has no plans for the
I send her, anonymously, a dozen blood red roses, Lloyd Webber's new
recording of "Aspects of Love," and a bottle of sherry. The note
accompanying my gifts reads, "You deserve a very special weekend. Pamper
yourself. Enjoy!" and is signed, "D.L. - An Admirer."
* * *
TAKEN BY STORM
Part II
Takako Matsu's (private section) Victorian house sits at the end of a two lane country road. The
nearest neighbor is at least a half mile away. I nose the P1800 into the
grove of pine trees on the dark side of Takako Matsu property. Here, near the
river, it is be hidden from the sight of anyone approaching the house.
Except for the glow of firelight in the downstairs windows, the house
seems deserted. Nevertheless, I approachecautiously. It won't do to
attract Takako Matsu attention now. I stand on tiptoe and peer in the sitting
room window. At the far end of the room, a door opens. Lysilph is
briefly outlined in the doorway. She pauses, as if Takako Matsu (more pictures) were aware of my
presence outside the house. The light from the room behind her
illuminates the lush curves of Takako Matsu body, silhouetting her against her
clothes. I inhale sharply. Takako Matsu (with feature gallery) is lovely. I draw back from the window,
far enough that Takako Matsu (more pictures) can not see me, yet I can still command a view of
Takako Matsu (with feature gallery) closes the door behind her and walks to the couch. This time the
fire paints her curves in shadows on the clothing Takako Matsu (more pictures) wears. The effect
vanishes as Takako Matsu (more pictures) turns on the reading lamp and sits down. The glass of
sherry Takako Matsu (more pictures) carries is placed on the wine table beside the couch, and she
settles in for Takako Matsu evening of reading.
I waken with a start. Glancing at my watch, I find that I has been
asleep for a little over two hours. I yawn, stretch and leans between
the front seats to remove a small, nylon bag from behind the passenger's
...(to be continued)
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