The stalker

I peer under the seat at her rounded pink calves stuffed into shoes two sizes small. Looking from behind the seat of the car gives me a perfect vantage point for viewing these delectable legs. I want to touch them, shuddering I hold myself back.

She is singing along with the radio, left foot tapping, not a care in the world. She doesn't know I am watching. She isn't aware that I am in the car. I have been here all day, tempted by those meaty calves. I want to sink my teeth into them or at the very least rub my face along the curve of her leg. I feel no shame in watching her, she will be mine soon.

I feel the tension building. The need for contact becomes greater. I move in closer, silently creeping until I feel my breath rebounding off of her ankle. She still sings, a simple haunting melody. The mood is right, the time is now.

I stroke her ankle, feeling the flesh give. My excitement mounts, I must have more. She hasn't noticed my presence, yet soon she must.

I press in closer still, the hairs on my body standing on end. The pleasure of caressing her skin is almost unbearable. I quiver, my tongue slides out, tasting her. She sees me, screams, her foot comes towards me. I scramble to retreat but it is too late. One more fleeting thought as my life flows from my body, I die a happy spider.