When I got home, I had this sense of urgency overtaking me. I needed to read those diary entries and I needed to read them fast. The faster I read them, the closer I could get to Eleanor and God, did I want to be close to her. I wanted to get inside...
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A week into Eleanor and I's relationship, it was hard to resist the urges that overtook me. They were overwhelming, dark, twisted. It's almost like being with her wasn't enough, I needed to have her - and not emotionally or even physically, but I needed to have her things by my side at all times or I felt like I was going to implode on myself.
I loved when she would leave her sweaters at my place, or even a pair of shoes after a night out. I would hold her high heels in my hands, stiffening underneath the touch of them - imagining her in nothing but just the stilettos. She didn't wear heels often, but enough to drive me absolutely crazy when she did.
Whenever we would finish having sex, I would occasionally steal her underwear, hiding them away in my dresser or nightstand so that I could smell them when she wasn't there. Her smell sent me into a frenzy, kind of like when a shark smells blood and is on a mission. My mission was always the same - to get inside of her.
She would always search for them afterwards, under the bed, under anything she could find on the floor - but she would of course never come across them ever again.
"I don't understand where they keep going! It's like you have a hole under your bed that just swallows them up." She would say as she giggled. If only she knew that I was the hole that swallowed them up.
If it wasn't so weird, I probably would wear them around the house when she wasn't here just so that I could feel as close to her as possible, but at that time I felt like that would be going a little too far, even for me.
There was one time, I was at her place and we had just finished having sex. We laid in bed together as the time passed, my hand rubbing against her arm, feeling her soft skin. I had an itch starting to form at the back of my neck because I knew her panties were just beside me on the ground, screaming my name and I couldn't get to them fast enough.
It would be risky, as we weren't in my bedroom where I could just swiftly scoop them up and hide them somewhere that I could retrieve when she left. There was something about those panties specifically - that I had to have them. They were red, with a little rose on the front. Those were the panties she wore the first time we ever had sex together and it was like a sentimental token to me. I needed them.
"Hey baby, do you wanna do me a favour?" I asked her, gently squeezing her arm.
"What is it?" She asked me, as she sat up and looked at me.
"Do you think you could get me a glass of water? I'm quite thirsty after what we ju-"
She cut me off by laughing. "Yeah, of course." She got up and I reached over to playfully smack her ass as she left the bedroom. I smiled to myself and quickly turned over, reaching over the side of the bed and I grabbed her panties, lifting them up. I could always put them under the pillow and take them home with me when I left, but before I did that - I brought them to my face and I breathed in her scent, letting out a small whimper.
"Uh baby do you wa-" I heard Eleanor's voice unexpectedly and I yanked the material away from my face, looking over at the entrance of the bedroom to see her standing there, her eyebrow cocked, her head tilted to the side. "Oh, am I interrupting something here?" She asked, shyly. Her cheeks flushed bright red and so did mine.
Fuck, why was she back so soon? She didn't even have any water with her. "Uh-" I let out, blinking rapidly over and over again. "I uh," I didn't know what to say. I was laying there, guilty, panties in hand, stuttering on my words, not knowing how to get out of this one. Could I get out of this one?
"Were you just sniffing my panties?" She questioned me, a tiny smile appearing slowly on her face the longer I didn't reply.
Did she like it? Was she amused by it? Was I not in trouble?
"Um..." I mumbled, still scrambling around in the depths of my brain - hoping to find an excuse or a reason to give her, but I truly had nothing. She caught me and I had no lie to slither my way out of the predicament.
"That's hot." She muttered, slowly creeping towards me, crawling on the bed, up my legs. She stopped at my waist and lowered her head down, planting little kisses along my waistline.
I laid back down flat, bringing my hand that held her panties behind my head, squeezing them tightly in my hand. This pair would be number eighteen that I had stolen.
God, she was perfect. She was everything I had ever wished for and more.
I always wanted a woman that could keep up with me, match my sexual desires. Time and time again I would always be left unsatisfied, empty, but Eleanor was never able to make me feel those things. She was too exciting, always showing me new secrets and desires that I loved.
