I went to her apartment at the appointed time, and knocked on the door. When she answered she was just wearing a plain white t-shirt whit a pink bra s...owing through it, and flannel pajama bottoms. She welcomed me in with that gorgeous smile of hers.“Wow, you sure got a lot, you didn’t invite anyone else did you?” she asked.“Are you k**ding me? This is just for me,” I joked “the Jeager is for you.” I said as I put down the Rolling Rock then pulled the Jeager out of my pocket. “Oh, god! I can’t. He pushed the baton in furtherbeneath her skirt, brought it up higher until finally it touched her knickers,at which point he twirled it in his fingers so that the slender length of woodrolled to the left and the right, moulding the smooth silk against her swellinglabia. "Hold up your skirt and let me see, Fiddle," he said, in such a calm andeven tone that he could not be denied. With trembling hands Karen took hold of her skirt, bunched it high abouther waist so that the Maestro could see. "My friends tell me you're worth it, every penny." She strutted around behind him, tracing one finger over one shoulder and across his back to the other, pausing behind him just long enough that he cast a glance of his own at her. "We'll see about that." She commented, gently squeezing his bottom as though it were fruit, and just as casually. Nodding distractedly she walked back around the table, flaunting her much lauded femininity as she went. Back in her original position, she eyed. One...Two...Three...Fou- something catches my eye.The silhouette of a bulbous head, with gleaming white eyes stares menacingly at me. A small, Rattata squeak escapes my lips as I tighten the grip on my sheets. Maintaining eye contact for a few brief seconds, the head ducks down, and the sound of something heavy thudding into a pile of leaves manages to squeeze through my window. I remain staring at the spot, as a million thoughts flood my mind. Was that a pokemon!? A stalker!? A... a murderer!?.