Fiction Weekend Prompt for 4/13-4/15/2012
Write a story in which you commit a petty crime.
Ideally, this would be autofiction (so involving a character who is basically you or your OS persona), but if you prefer to make it about another/other character(s), no problem.
"Mentioning an Unmentionable Petty Theft"
My first pinch, as I liked to call it happened when I was fifteen. It was summer. The kind of blazing hot summer that makes you want to do crazy hormonally induced things.
Brandon, Monica's son had gone to Europe with his dad. From the letters I got, it was no picnic. His dad was on a business trip trying to help set up their European office so Brandon was left by himself to hang out at a hotel in Paris or attend a bunch of museums. As for me, I was too old to go to summer camp, and still too young to work, so I stayed home...bored.
Although our house was no mansion by any one's standards, it was built on a very large lot. It was so big, my parents had built a junior Olympic-sized pool with a jacuzzi, a cabana with suana/steam bath, a tennis court, and maid's quarters in the backyard.
Anyway, it was hot, and mom had me scrubbing the walls of the pool with one of those long-handled pool brushes. My parents had lots of money; but they did not believe in having maids, pool guys or lawn mowing services. My dad and mom had built a good fortune selling cosmetics and weight-loss programs. They started from the ground up. They felt that to appreciate what we had we must do the upkeep ourselves. So there I was scrubbing the pool on what must have been the hottest day of the summer. Monica and my mom were playing tennis. Maybe it was the heat acting on my hormones, or maybe it was a mirage, or maybe it was real, but I kept getting the feeling that Monica was stealing glances at me.
Monica was a looker. Back then, the term MILF (Mothers I'd Like to F***) did not exist, but by taking one hard long at Monica you would guess she inspired that acronym. Monica had light brown hair, brown eyes and her skin seemed to have a nice healthy golden honey hue to it. She was petite; she was a good two inches under five feet; and she had a tight little body that was properly proportioned. She had once been a professional ballet dancer and she taught ballet for serveral years at a local studio. She could have easily been mistaken for high school senior desipite the fact that she was in her early forties that is how small and youthful she looked.
Anyways, after the two of them finished playing tennis, they walked over to the bar outside the cabana and made themselves some drinks. In the distance, I could hear them gigling and telling stories of their glory days. But, dammit, every time I looked their way, I noticed Monica staring at me. Sometimes she would avert her glance when she saw me take notice. Other times she would just keep looking my way and stroking her beautiful brown hair.
I was getting very turned on. After I finished cleaning the pool, I jumped in the water to cool off (if you know what I mean). I swam a few laps and got out just in time to hear my mom tell Monica that they should go in the sauna to relax. The ladies entered the small changing/bathroom in the cabana. The bathroom led to the sauna/steambath. After a few minutes, I heard loud rowdy laughter coming from the sauna. I had to pee, so I went into the bathroom. I couldn't tell what they were talking about, but whatever it was it sure was funny to them. I also got very turned on knowing that Moinca was naked and in the sauna. I would have loved to sneak a peek and see her hard body in the buff, but knowing that my mom was naked and in there too quickly squelched that thought.
In the Cabana we had a small area for changing clothes, and a shelf for putting your things on it. Next to the shelf were pegs so you could hang your clothes on. Monica's change of clothes were hanging on it even her clean, dry underwear. Then I noticed Monica's gym bag on the shelf. I don't know why, but I got the sudden urge to search through it. The bag contained Monica's sweaty tennis outfit, socks and sneakers, bra and a pair of hot pink panties that were soaked with sweat.
The next moments for me felt detached. It felt like I was watching myself on TV. It was dreamlike. I grabbed the panites. My heart was racing; my mind was freaking out wondering why I was doing such a stupid thing. I was completely aroused. Suddenly, I jammed Monica's underwear down my swim trunks and bolted from the cabana and into my house. I climbed the large semi-spiral marble staircase three steps at a time. I raced into my room and locked the door. I pulled out the panites and set them on my desk.
I examined them. They were cotton and had a lace trim around them. I turned the panties inside out noticed some pubic hairs on the crotch area. My mind was feverish. I grabbed a pair of examination tweezers from my dusty old chemistry set and placed some of the hairs inside a glass test tube. I corked the tube and set it inside my desk drawer. I went back to the panites and traced my fingers over them. I imagined myself alone with Monica and pleasuring her with my fingers. By now my hands were shaking from the excitement. I grabbed the panties, and placed them in my shoebox full of odds and ends that I had collected over the years. I then went into the shower and pleasured myself.
By the time I had finished, mom and Monica were back inside the house. The ladies had showered in the cabana and were in their street clothes. Monica left. Mom said she was going to take a nap. I went to the family room to shoot some pool and watch TV.
Over the years, I developed a penchant for stealing and collecting women's underwear. It has gotten to be such a habit with me that I have set some rules:
1. Only steal from women I have bedded down.
2. The panties have to be the ones worn by the woman on the first night I had sex with her.
3. No sniffing; it is not a fetish.
4. I place each pilfered panty in a plastic zip-lock bag, which I tag with the woman's name and date.