Thread: The rapist's next victim (Foxy Lady and CougarGirl)

As soon as my husband and son were safely on their way to work and school, I rang the number Id been given, praying that Pamela Davidson, the woman police officer, would answer. I just felt that she might understand how I was feeling better than the profiler. Fortunately she answered, almost immediately. Hello, Mrs Wilson, how can I help you? Does everyone feel like this? I blurted out. Feel like what? she asked calmly. Like theyre being watched or followed. Or is it just my imagination now that I know someone may be out there stalking me? The imagination can indeed play tricks on us, but I am also convinced that our subconscious mind can pick up on things that our conscious mind doesnt register. Like some sixth sense. She sounded like a teacher giving a lesson, but then she softened. Look, Mrs Wilson, why not tell me why youre asking this. Something has made you think about it, hasnt it. I took a deep breath while I decided on where to begin. At the other end of the line, I could hear calm breathing. Its something my son said, I began, at breakfast. He asked his father if he had been in his room last night. He said he wasnt properly awake but thought there was a man walking through, around midnight. And what did his father say? He denied it. Said he hadnt gone into his room last night at all. And you believe that? Do I believe he wasnt in our sons room at midnight, sure I do. He couldnt have been. How are you so sure? She was certainly persistent, pushing me places I didnt really want to go. Because, I answered slowly, I know where he was. We were having relations. Im no prude, but for some reason when talking with authority figures like doctors I always resort to euphemisms instead of just saying we were having sex. So, you were having sex. Maybe the noise disturbed your son or perhaps it was just a dream. How did she know we were noisy? I said nothing. Best not to ask. Theres more, isnt there, she prompted. Its just that while we were having sex, I felt like someone was watching me. The door was ajar and I felt like someone was peeping through the crack. Could it have been your son? I mean children do sometimes watch their parents. No, no, Im sure it wasnt him. Its like the feeling I get sometimes Yes, the feeling you get when? Shit, I really didnt want to go here. I took it at a run. The feeling I get when were with another couple and theyre watching us fuck. There was an almost imperceptible pause before she said, I see. I didnt respond. And was there anything else you want to tell me? Well I might as well mention it. Id already made a big enough fool of myself. Well, its nothing really, but yesterday, when I got back from meeting you, there was a latch open. I was sure it was closed when I went out, but I could have been mistaken. Silence. Nothing. Not even that calm breathing. You dont think, I asked, just to find out if she was still there, that someones been in, that someone actually came in last night and stood watching me? I think, she replied, that I should arrange for someone to come round and fit some more secure locks. You can easily explain that to your husband. Just tell him that youre worried about the rapist. He cant complain, can he? Thank you, I said pathetically. I should have been relieved that Id be safer, but she had just made me feel more nervous. No problem, she replied with an air of bringing the conversation to a close. Just be sure to let me know if you get any more of these feelings.