Erotimaniac

Ethan leaned forward in his seat, weaving and bobbing his head like a short

person at a concert. The bus was parked at a stop near the diner. He could

connect the pieces: a bus, a waitress, and a diner meant Emiko was taking

public transportation to her job. He needed absolute certainty, though.

Ethan bit his bottom lip as the light turned green. The bus was still

parked at the stop and he could not see who was getting off. He hopped in

his seat as the driver behind him honked. He reluctantly cruised forward,

his eyes locked on the bus stop.

As he peered through the bus windows, Ethan whispered, "Emiko, there

you are..."

His theory was correct: Emiko walked to the diner to begin her afternoon

shift. The young author took another u-turn, then he entered the parking lot

across the street. The parking lot was used by the neighboring department

store and small shops, but it was empty – business was slow. He parked at

the edge of the lot with the perfect view of the diner across the street.

He sighed in relief, then he said, "I'm lucky, Emiko. We're lucky. I didn't

lose you." He held his hand over his face and broke down into tears. He

mumbled, "I thought... I thought I lost you. I thought you were trying to get

away from me. You just can't be seen with me yet, right? You want me to

watch you, right?"

He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his nose. He tried

to compose himself. A grown-man crying in the parking lot of a 99-cents

store was never a good sign. He tightly closed his eyes with each blink as

he tried to focus his vision. He leaned on the steering wheel and stared at

the diner. Thanks to the large windows, he could see most of the eatery. He

couldn't see the kitchen, but he could see the dining area.

Emiko pranced from table-to-table, genial and helpful. She had changed

from her dress and tossed on her generic uniform. Unlike her experience

with Ethan, she didn't seem bothered by any of her customers. She kept a

genuine smile on her face – and Ethan loved it. Her uniform, conservative

and generic, was outshined by her smile.

The author grabbed his phone and aimed the camera at the diner. He had

to hold his phone over his head to take pictures over the passing cars. He

had a steady hand, though. All of those years of excessive masturbation and

voyeuristic photography conditioned his arms. He snapped pictures of

Emiko from afar. The quality wasn't the best, but he could make-do. He

flicked his finger across the screen and examined the photos.

He whispered, "Emiko, Emiko... You're so damn beautiful. I mean, I... I

don't know what to say. I'm a writer, right? I should know how to tell you

how beautiful you are, but I can't. You're too beautiful for English words.

Maybe something in Japanese can accurately explain your beauty. I'll find

out soon."

He glanced up at the diner. He watched as Emiko chattered with a

family. He knew she was a nice person, he could see it in her eyes, but he

couldn't tell if she was playing a role for higher tips. It didn't bother him, he

just didn't want her to suffer. He could only imagine the hardships she went

through working at a diner. Miserable, he thought, she must be absolutely

miserable.

Ethan said, "When we're together, you won't have to work like... like

this. You won't have to serve people like some sort of slave. I'll take you

away from the working class. You understand me, sweetie? You won't have

to work for tips like some... some stripper. No, you won't have to work at

all. You can just take care of our family while I bring us up to the upperclass. Does that sound good to you, Emiko? Yes, it's perfect, isn't it?"

The sensitive man sighed and rubbed his eyes. He placed his chin on the

steering wheel and stared at Emiko from afar. Her beauty caused him to

whimper. How could someone be so perfect?–he thought. He stared down at

his pants and chuckled. He had an erection. The love of his life wasn't even

trying to titillate him, but he was still aroused.

"Do it," a soft female voice said at the back of his mind.

Ethan stared at Emiko and responded, "Now?"

"Now."

"Okay, okay. I've never done this before, but I'll do it. I'll do it for you,

okay?"

Ethan's fingers trembled as he unbuckled his pants, tears dripping from

his eyes with each blink. His dick, stiff like a flag pole, popped out of his

fly. He leaned on his door with his left arm over the window while he stroked himself with his right hand. He spent most of his time watching

Emiko. However, he couldn't help but glance around every once in a while.

A man crying at a 99-cents store parking lot was one thing. A man

masturbating in a 99-cents store parking lot... Well, that was a whole 'nother

story.

As if the woman could hear him, Ethan whispered, "Emiko, it feels so

good." He moaned and shuddered, overwhelmed by the feeling of ecstasy.

His breath breaking with each pant, he said, "I'm going to... to cum."

He held the handkerchief over his penis and ejaculated. He caught the

gooey streams in his hanky. He took a minute to catch his breath, then he

shoved his penis back into his pants and the handkerchief back into his

pocket.

Ethan said, "Thank you, Emiko. Thank you for everything."

Satisfied, he leaned back in his seat and stared at the diner. He was

prepared to wait until Emiko's shift ended to continue following her.

***

The sun fell beyond the horizon. The sky was orange and blue, like

every Hollywood movie poster. Cars of all shapes and sizes cruised down

the street, heading in every direction. A few angry drivers honked and

argued with each other, yelling about politics and society, while others

recorded the confrontations. Emergency sirens on fire trucks and police

cruisers occasionally blared through the area, but no one seemed to notice

the stalker in the parking lot.

Ethan sat in the driver's seat of his car. He took a sip of his coffee, which

he purchased from a neighboring donut shop. He kept his eyes on his love

the entire time, too – she still served customers with a smile. He glanced at

the clock: 6:09 PM.

He leaned forward and whispered, "Here we go..."

Emiko jogged down a walkway, then she skidded to a stop beside the

crowded bus stop. She leaned forward and stared over the cars parked on

the side of the street. She sighed in relief – her bus was barely arriving. She

could be seen talking to an older woman as she shuffled through her bag,

laughing and smiling. She was perpetually friendly.

A good girl like that couldn't possibly hate anyone – including Ethan.

"Come on over," the feminine voice whispered at the back of Ethan's

mind. "Don't be scared, darling. I don't bite."

Doe-eyed, Ethan stared at Emiko and nodded. He pulled on the parking

brake and said, "I'm coming, sweetie. I'm–"

He paused as the bus pulled into the stop, blocking his view of Emiko.

He blinked erratically and shook his head. He was disappointed in his

failure to act. He wasn't given much time, but he still felt as if he had

missed his chance.

As the people boarded the bus, Ethan reversed out of his parking and

murmured, "I missed you too many times already. I have to see you..."

He drove to the farthest exit behind the bus, then he pulled into the

street. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he followed the

bus. Just like the bus, he stopped at each bus stop and watched as the

passengers exited the vehicle. He was led away from the busy commercial

district, taken deeper into a residential area.

Apartment buildings, some five stories tall, surrounded him. The

apartments weren't luxurious, but they were adequate for most common

needs.

As the bus pulled into another stop, Ethan stopped his car behind a

column of parked vehicles – hidden in plain sight. He leaned over the

passenger seat and stared at the bus with narrowed eyes, carefully watching

every movement in the large vehicle. An elderly woman, a man in a

janitor's uniform, a few teenagers and... Emiko – Emiko hopped off of the

bus.

Ethan smiled and whispered, "Hey, sweetie... I thought I lost you."

Eager, he climbed out of his car, then he jogged onto the sidewalk. He

trailed behind the young woman. He glanced around the area. The street

sign read: Madison Street. The buildings in the area resembled each other.

He could memorize each crack on the bricks, though. He only needed to

know where Emiko lived and it would stay on his mind until the end of

time.

Unaware of her stalker, Emiko strolled into a five-story apartment

complex to her right. Ethan jogged to catch up, glancing every which way.

He walked through the front door and found himself in a hallway. Emiko

was nowhere in sight, though. She couldn't have gone inside so fast, he

thought, it's impossible. He glanced over at his right.

He whispered, "Stairs..."

He ran up the stairs and slid into the hallway on the second floor. He

quickly slid back behind the wall upon spotting Emiko. He peeked around the corner. The young woman stood in front of the third door to the right,

wrestling with her bag and keys – still oblivious.

As the door closed, Ethan shambled down the hall and approached the

apartment. He stared at the number above the door: 26. 26 – two digits, easy

to remember. He smiled and leaned closer to the door. He could hear her

moving about inside of the apartment. He smiled from ear-to-ear – the type

of smile a father would have as he met his newborn baby for the first time.

With a grin on his face and tears in his eyes, he whispered, "What are

you doing in there, baby? Huh? Do you need a hand? Do you want me to

come in? Just say the word and I'll come in. Come on, talk to me again.

Say–"

"Can I help you, sir?" a man asked from over Ethan's shoulder.

Ethan casually glanced around the hall, acting as if he were lost –

playing stupid. He glanced back at his uninvited guest.

A short, portly man stood behind him. The man wore a filthy gray polo

shirt, black trousers, and scuffed dress shoes. He had a bald spot at the

center of his head, too. He sniffled and coughed, blatantly sick. The careless

man didn't even cover his mouth.

The man chuckled and snorted, then he asked, "Can you hear me?

Hello?"

Ethan stuttered, "Wh–Who are you?"

"Who am I? My name is Charles. I'm the manager of this apartment

complex. Now, who are you? I don't think I've ever seen you around here

before."

"You're the manager?" Ethan asked. He laughed and shook his head,

relieved. He said, "I'm sorry. I might be in the wrong building. I was

looking for a friend's apartment."

"I'm sorry, too, pal. I can't help you with that. I don't just hand out the

tenants' information to 'friends' like that. You're going to have to get out of

here and give your friend a call. Go on, kid. I can't have you hanging

around here like some sort of stalker."

"I get it. I'll go. Thank you for your time."

As Ethan took a step towards the stairs, the manager sneezed. Mucus

dripped over his lips and saliva splattered on the wall.

Ethan smiled and said, "Here, take this." He pulled the handkerchief out

of his pocket and handed it to the manager. He said, "I used it a little, but...

Well, you're already sick anyway. Might as well clean yourself up."

Charles nodded and said, "Yeah, yeah. Thanks, pal."

Ethan smiled as the man rubbed the cum-soaked handkerchief on his lips

and nose. The manager even used the handkerchief to blow his nose.

Fortunately, thanks to his clogged nostrils, he really couldn't smell the

semen on the hanky. His lack of taste didn't allow him to taste the cum,

either. It was a win-win situation.

Satisfied, Ethan waved at Charles and said, "I'll just have to contact my

friend later. Have a nice day, sir."

"You too."

Ethan walked out of the building. He was amused by his devious actions,

but he was dismayed by his failure. He was stopped before he could cross

the finish line. He wanted to enter Emiko's apartment, but he couldn't cause

a scene. He hopped into his car, then he peeled out of his parking spot.