Silent Watcher

He moved silently through the dark unfamiliar bedroom with a skill that came from experience.  His eyes could discern objects quite clearly in a light so dim that others would be in danger of stumbling.  It was probably this trait, more than anything else, that had inspired his current profession.  Silently closing one draw, he moved to another, all the while listening intently to the sound of breathing coming from the bed nearby.  A slow deep breathing, calm and tranquil.  If she began to wake he would notice and he would leave.  He prided himself on the fact that he'd never been seen.

As he moved to yet another drawer he stole a brief glance at the sleeping figure.  Even in the dim light her beauty was obvious.  She lay on her back, covered by a satin sheet that clung to her body.  He indulged himself for a moment, following the outline her legs, up to her hips, stomach, narrow waist and small breasts.  Silken hair flowed around her pillow, shining in the dim light from the window.  Yes, quite beautiful, he decided.

He moved to the wardrobe and took his time sliding the heavy door silently aside.  As he patiently proceeded with his task he began to detect a slight change in her breathing.  She was coming out of the deepest part of sleep now and would soon be dreaming.  He still had plenty of time.

He started on the drawers in the wardrobe, more alert now, but still calm as always.  First one drawer, then the next, never hurrying, leaving barely a trace of disturbance in his wake.  It could be weeks before she realised he'd been there.

Her breathing patterns told him that she was definitely dreaming now, but something was not quite right.   A small niggling at the back of his mind told him he was missing something important.  He held perfectly still and listened.  Her dream seemed to be troubling her, disturbing her peaceful sleep.  He decided to wind things up.  There was nothing he could put his finger on, but his instincts rarely failed him and he preferred the path of caution.

With agonising slowness he slid the wardrobe door back into place whilst carefully watching her.  Despite her troubling dreams, she was still deep in sleep.  He began to relax slightly and observe her reactions in the dim light.   Her lips had parted slightly and her chest rose and fell unevenly with her breathing.  Outlined by the thin sheet, he could see that her nipples were enticingly erect and he began to wonder if he had misunderstood the nature of her dream.   He felt an intense urge to stay and observe, at least until her dream changed, but that was folly.  He pushed the thought from his mind.

With the wardrobe door closed finally, he turned to leave when an indefinable sound froze him in his tracks.  It was a faint sound, barely detectable, of something sliding against the satin sheets but he was unable to discern its source.  The woman was still definitely fast asleep and she was not moving, he was sure of that.  So what was it? Where was it coming from? The sound of his own blood rushing in his ears made it difficult to hear and with an effort he forced himself to calm down.   Until he could work it out he dared not move, so he stood and watched, desperately searching for an answer.

It took nearly ten seconds, perhaps the longest ten seconds of his life, before he thought he had an answer.  Only, that which he saw did not make sense and he felt none of the relief he had expected.  His eyes must surely be playing tricks on him, he thought, because he could see a place on her leg, just below the knee, where the sheet was being pressed against her. The impression was moving subtly, as if an invisible hand was stroking her in small circles through the sheet.  Yet there was nothing and no one there.  Though feeling uneasy, his curiosity kept him from leaving.  He forced himself to keep watching, hoping that the scene would rearrange itself into something that made sense.

Slowly the strange effect moved upwards until it was above her knee.  He could now clearly discern the small faint indentations that moved in slow patient circles as they travelled higher.  He watched her reactions, a slight rolling of the head, her lips parting further, her breathing becoming deeper.  She was definitely feeling this invisible caress, yet she was still very much asleep.  The touch seemed to blend with her dreams, perhaps shaping them, allowing her mind to accept them without question.  Years of observing sleeping patterns told him that she was not one to wake easily.

He had no idea what he was seeing but he found himself still unable to move, let alone leave.  He stared in disbelief as the invisible hand made a path along the outside of her leg.  He was amazed at how easy it was to track its progress as it travelled upwards to her hip.  There it flattened itself out before moving on to her waist.  Her back arched slightly as the sheet was pressed around her slim waist on both sides, pressing in under the hollow of her back.  Clearly there were two hands now, or maybe there had been all along.  When she exhaled it was like a soft gentle sigh.  She was quite definitely beginning to respond to the roaming hands.

He watched mesmerised as they continued to tantalise her.  They explored her patiently for some time, moving up and down her body, avoiding her special places, content for the moment to arouse her slowly.

His blood was pounding deafeningly in his ears as the hands finally moved up towards her breasts, where they began to cup and squeeze with amazing gentleness.  The young woman drew a deep ragged breath, a soft beautiful sound that stirred his emotions.  It was followed shortly by faint sounds of pleasure as her erect nipples were manipulated through the cool satin sheet.  Still she remained asleep.  Was this normal for her or was something preventing her from awakening fully?

He watched her arousal grow quickly as the hands made love to her breasts.  His mouth felt dry and furry and he found it difficult to swallow as he stood motionless, transfixed by the scene.

After a time, to his further amazement, the invisible hands withdrew and the sheet began rise up above her body.  It formed a low elongated dome over her, as if the sheet were filling with air.  With the sheet raised in such a manner, he could see her naked breasts, rising and falling heavily with her deep breathing.  The billowing sheets fell again but not all the way.  To his complete astonishment, it settled onto something that hovered above her.   His skin prickled and he felt the metallic taste of fear in his mouth.  Outlined in the sheets, directly above her, he could clearly see the broad muscular back, hips and thighs of whatever it was that was with her.   Yet, where the sheet ended, there was nothing to be seen.

Under the sheet, unseen knees gently nudged her legs apart and slowly, steadily, the shape lowered itself onto her.  He saw her breasts flatten out under an invisible weight and a moment later heard her gasp loudly and then cry out.  She arched her head back and called out softly as the invisible intruder forced its way inside her.  Still she did not awaken.

He could clearly see the outline of the invisible hips beneath the sheets as they began to pump rhythmically between her legs, over and over, firmly and deeply but without excessive force.  She moaned softly, beautifully.

It wasn't long before she began to pant and gasp, her breath shuddering in her throat as a climax came upon her.  Her soft cries filled the room as she arched and twisted beneath the invisible bulk that pinned her to the mattress.  Relentlessly it continued to drive into her, sending her from one peak of pleasure to the next.

Unable to move, no longer concerned for his own well being, he watched the scene to its eventual conclusion.  Gradually, the apparition eased her down, slowly and wonderfully, till its thrusts seemed no more than a soothing caress inside and her whimpers became contented sighs.

Finally he regained his composure and quickly backed towards the bedroom door, thinking solely of the open kitchen window that was his point of escape.  The last thing he saw before he turned and left was the satin sheet, its support suddenly removed, billowing down over her glistening sleeping body like a parachute softly landing.

The End