The first time I was in her house, I only stayed for an hour. I was flushed and nervous. I filled her space with my presence and breathed deeply, the air she left behind. My shirt was stuck to my back by the time I left, soaked with nervous sweat – my panties sodden with the excitement of it all. I already knew I was going to do it again.
It took many weeks for me to grow comfortable- to take my time. I knew I was breaking the rules; trespassing in so many ways. I stayed longer and longer, getting to know her through the inanimate objects she’d touched and chosen to surround herself with. Eventually, I began planning my whole day around being there; staying the morning and working in the afternoon. I knew her routine and entered through the back as she left for the day. Locks clicked into place as my feet crept silently over the threshold.