Erotimaniac

Ethan arrived at Madison Street. He parked three buildings away from

Emiko's apartment, his sedan hidden under a tree away from the street

lamps. A few vehicles and pedestrians still wandered the streets, hopping

between bars or finally heading home from work. Yet, the neighborhood

was still relatively tranquil after midnight.

Ethan stared at his reflection on the rear-view mirror and said, "This is it.

There's no turning back. Make her proud."

He nodded, determined. He grabbed a black backpack from the

passenger seat, then he hopped out of the car. He breathed heavily as he

approached the building, trying to keep a semblance of control – just a

student going home, nothing to see here. He walked through the front door

and stared down the hall, the backpack slung over his shoulder.

To his delight, the coast was clear. He briskly walked up the neighboring

steps, skipping a stair with each lunge. The second floor hallway appeared

to be empty, too. The manager was seemingly absent, likely knocked out by

his nighttime cold medication. Although the corridor was empty, he still had

to remain quiet in order to avoid any nosy neighbors.

"26," Ethan whispered as he approached the third door to his right.

He gazed at the door with curious eyes, marveling at the barrier as if he

had just discovered an ancient artifact. He planted his ear on the door and

listened – silence. Silence was good. It meant she was not near the front

door and he was free to enter.

He leaned down and examined the locks. An old-fashioned pin tumbler

lock appeared to be the apartment's best defense. Unfortunately for Emiko,

the lock had been outdated for years – and Ethan knew exactly how to

bypass it.

"Easy-peasy, easy-peasy," Ethan murmured as he reached into his bag.

He pulled a lock-pick set out of the smallest pocket. He took one final

glance down the hall as he knelt down in front of the door – the coast was

still clear.

Lock picking was a simple task. He pulled the tension wrench and the

rake out of the set. He inserted the tension wrench into the bottom of the plug, then he placed slight pressure on the wrench. He continued by

shoving a rake with three ridges into the hole above the wrench. He placed

a little more pressure on the wrench as he moved the rake back-and-forth –

like a rake. With the gentle movements, he was able to slowly rotate the

wrench. Click – and the door was unlocked.

Simple.

He performed the same process on the second lock. Upon unlocking it,

he turned the knob and gently pushed on the door. To his utter relief, Emiko

did not set the latch lock on the door. He quietly slinked into the home and

closed the door behind him.

Ethan found himself in the living room of the small apartment. A

console table hugged the wall to his left. There was a small seating area and

a flat-screen television to his right. Over the bar and the archway, he could

see the kitchen directly ahead. He leaned to his right and stared at the wall

to his left. Towards the center of the wall, a hallway opened up and led to

the other rooms in the apartment. The home was quiet and simple.

The author slipped out of his shoes, then he tiptoed forward. He

examined a stack of letters on the console table. The letters were addressed

to Emiko Takahashi – some were local, others were international, none

were open. Although he was invading her home, he 'respected' her privacy

and left the letters alone.

He walked past the sofa and approached the entertainment center.

Particularly, he examined the stack of movies sitting next to the small flatscreen television. All of the Blu-ray covers depicted couples about to kiss,

but never actually kissing – cliché romance films. He preferred horror, but

he didn't mind exploring other genres.

Ethan whispered, "We can watch these later, babe. I'll make your life just

like a movie..."

He glanced down the hallway – silence. He entered the kitchen, then he

opened the refrigerator. A person's appetite could shine light on a

personality. Chicken, meat, cheese, fresh vegetables, and 100-percent fruit

juice filled the fridge – no soda, no beer, no junk food. Her diet appeared to

be healthy – healthier than most.

The intruder exited the kitchen and tiptoed down the hall. He grimaced

with each shrill creak from the floorboards. Still, it sounded as if he were

the only person walking in the home. He stopped at the first door to the

right, which led to a small bathroom. The sink, the toilet, and the bathtub-shower combo were clean – she took care of her home just as she took care

of herself.

There was something dirty in the bathroom, though: the laundry hamper.

Ethan swallowed the lump in his throat, then he shambled into the room.

He grabbed fistfuls of the dirty laundry with his trembling hands. He held

the panties, bras, and t-shirts up to his mouth and nose, then he took a large

whiff. The scent of a woman lingered on the clothing – and it aroused him

profusely.

He shuddered as he rubbed his crotch. Like a dog at the dinner table, he

whiffed and trembled with excitement. He couldn't control himself. His

bottom lip quivered as he licked the crotch of a pink thong – delicious. He

shoved the pink thong into his pocket and tossed the rest of the clothes into

the basket. He tried to organize the dirty laundry, hoping Emiko did not

have a photographic memory like him.

In a nervous whisper, Ethan stuttered, "It–It's fine... It's fine." He patted

his pocket and stuttered, "Th–Thank... Thank you for the... the gift."

He returned to the hallway, struggling to keep his composure. He opened

the first door to the left. He found himself staring into a small storage

closet. He already had her underwear in his pocket, so he wasn't interested

in her coats. He thought about sniffing her high heels, but he fought off the

peculiar urge.

Ethan rubbed the nape of his neck as he approached the final door to his

right. He stared into the room, amazed. The computer desk, the dresser, the

shelves on the walls... None of it mattered to him. He only focused on the

queen-sized bed at the center of the room.

Emiko slept peacefully on the bed, covered in a red blanket as she

nuzzled a white pillow. The straps on her blue nightgown could be seen

over the blanket. Her hair was tied in a tousled bun, too. In her sleep, her

natural beauty shone like the sun on a summer day, Her beauty brought

tears to Ethan's eyes.

Overjoyed, Ethan whispered, "I'm... I'm here. I'm home."

***

Ethan inhaled deeply, then he tiptoed into the room. He carefully placed

his backpack beside the bed, then he knelt down as if he were about to pray

before going to sleep. He pulled a particulate mask out of the bag, then he

put it on. The mask covered his nose and mouth. He pulled a handkerchief and a bottle of ether out of his bag. He poured the ether onto the

handkerchief.

Ethan leaned closer to Emiko's face. He gently rubbed the handkerchief

on her nose and mouth. He didn't want to suffocate her, he only wanted to

knock her unconscious. He knew it wasn't like the movies. He had to hold

the moist cloth over her face for a few minutes before she was really

knocked out. The effects of the ether wouldn't last very long, either.

Realizing she was unconscious, the intruder placed the hanky on the

neighboring nightstand. He pulled the blanket off of Emiko's body, then he

leered at her figure. He stared at her chest – he could see her erect nipples

through her nightgown. He turned his attention to her bare legs, then to her

feet. He glanced at Emiko's face, making sure she was truly unconscious,

then he started lifting her nightgown up to her belly button – an outie.

He reluctantly pulled his mask down to his neck as he leaned forward.

He couldn't resist. He kissed her stomach, then he licked a circle around her

bellybutton. He moved down and pecked at her thighs. He stopped down at

her feet. The man had a foot fetish – and Emiko's feet were freshly

pedicured. He licked her soles, then he sucked on her toes. A slurping

sound echoed through the room, but Emiko did not awaken.

Ethan moved up and kissed her legs. He stopped at her waist, then he

kissed her crotch – planting his lips on her blue underwear. Yet again, he

was fully erect and ready to go. He could have pulled her panties down and

raped her, but he didn't want to taint her. He was convinced that she was a

virgin. She would wait for him as long as he waited for her – or so he

thought.

He shook his head and whispered, "No, not yet. Not like this. I have to...

I have to give you what you asked for."

Ethan dabbed her face with the handkerchief again, making sure she

stayed unconscious during the imminent procedure. He returned the moist

handkerchief to the nightstand, then he riffled through his backpack.

He pulled a jar filled with semen out of the bag. The small jar held

approximately 25-milliliters of semen – nearly an ounce of cum, or 4

ejaculations on a good day. He carefully placed the jar on the floor. He

wouldn't be able to fill it if he spilled it. He reached into his bag, then he

pulled out a needleless syringe with a plunger and a tube.

Artificial insemination: the act of injecting semen into a vagina without

sexual intercourse.

Ethan knew all about artificial insemination. Again, it wasn't like the

movies. He couldn't just jam a turkey baster into her vagina and fill her with

his semen. No, the process required finesse.

He drew back on the plunger with nothing but air, then he pushed down

on the plunger – the syringe was ready. He slowly sucked the semen into

the syringe. He gently tapped the syringe in order to get rid of the air

bubbles. He didn't want to fill her vagina with air after all, he wanted to fill

her up with his semen.

Ethan dabbed her face with the handkerchief again – she was still

unconscious. He grabbed her shoulder, then he rolled her onto her stomach.

He grabbed one of the pillows and placed it under her waist in order to raise

her hips, then he took off her underwear.

He stopped for a moment as he ogled her genitalia. He spread her cheeks

as he stared at her clean pussy and anus. He smacked his lips like a starved

man waiting for his meal, eager for a taste of her cinnamon ring.

He shook his head and whispered, "Stop it, Ethan. It can wait. You have

to wait, okay?"

Misty-eyed, he rapidly blinked as he tried to clear his vision. He

connected the needleless syringe to the tube, then he shoved the other end

of the catheter into Emiko's vagina. He guided the tube to her cervix, then

he pushed down on the syringe's plunger. He attempted to fill her uterus

with his semen.

As he stared at his semen, Ethan whispered, "Go get 'em, little guys.

Make us proud."

Upon finishing, he pulled the tube out of her vagina. He tossed the

supplies into his backpack, then he pulled a white wand massager out of his

bag – a vibrator. Artificial insemination worked best with an orgasm.

Fortunately for Ethan, a state of awareness was not required for orgasms.

The wand buzzed as he pushed on the switch. He held the wand between

the pillow and Emiko's clitoris. He occasionally moved it up-and-down, he

even thought about shoving his fingers into her vagina, but he didn't want to

wake her with his movements. He was taking a very dangerous risk already.

Sweat dripped from his brow as he gently shook the vibrator under her

clitoris. He was simultaneously excited and terrified.

On one hand, he enjoyed pleasuring his lovers; on the other, he was

afraid of getting caught. Still, he figured if a privileged college student

could get out of trouble after raping a drunk student, he could evade the law as well. He snapped out of his contemplation as Emiko trembled. Her thighs

and ass jiggled a little as her toes curled. She didn't moan loudly, but she

was undeniably having an orgasm.

Ethan whispered, "Beautiful."

He turned the wand off, then he shoved the vibrator into his backpack.

He returned all of the remaining supplies – the jar of cum, the bottle of

ether, and the hanky – to his bag. He lifted Emiko's underwear to her waist

and pulled her nightgown down, then he flipped her onto her back. He

tossed the pillow up to the headrest, too.

Everything was returned to its proper place.

Ethan lifted the blanket up to her chest and whispered, "Thank you for

inviting me to your home, princess. When you wake up tomorrow, you will

still be pure. I'll keep our love a secret, too, okay? I'll check up on you over

the next few weeks. I'll make sure the baby is doing well. Our family is

going to be perfect, I promise." He smiled and kissed her, planting a tender

kiss on her lips. As he tiptoed out of the room with the bag slung over his

shoulder, Ethan said, "Good night, princess. I love you."

Ethan tiptoed his way out of the apartment and crept out of the building.

Like a shadow at night, he wasn't seen or heard by anyone. He hopped into

his car and absconded from the crime scene, hurtling towards a brighter

future.