The Great Transformation
Part 4
"God! What an awful man!" Mike muttered as he walked back into the kitchen.
When he walked in, it was impossible not to feel the tension hanging in the air. Tara's cheeks were visibly flushed and she looked a little flustered. He was confused. There was something wrong that he couldn't quite make sense of. He walked over to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"Are you ok, sweetie. You look a little nervous."
"It's okay, I'm just a little tired" Tara tried to respond as calmly as possible, but her aroused body and emotions made it difficult.
Then "I'm going to take a shower," she said and quickly walked away from him.
Mike just stared after her. He truly adored her, she was still his sun. All his efforts were for her. He wanted to get his father's approval as soon as possible and take Tara away from this damn town. He too longed to return to their former glorious life and elite circles.
But even though he had prepared for this all his life, he was having a very hard time managing works. He was crushed under the stress, and his mood was so low. He was no longer the man with the highest self-confidence he had before. He was very afraid of not being able to meet the expectations of a Goddess like Tara and of losing her. He felt incompetent towards his fiancée, his father, and his family. He was becoming more and more withdrawn with each passing day because of the storms raging inside him.
Tara was in the shower, under the cool water, trying to extinguish the fire burning inside her but in vain. Her nipples were still hard as lead and the itch between her legs was unbearable. She had literally come back from the edge of the cliff at the last moment. She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if Mike hadn't come. Would she really surrender herself to the old pervert she disgusted and hated to death? The exciting chase that had been going on for months had completely spiraled out of control. All boundaries and red lines had blurred. Who was the hunter, who was the hunted? The answer was constantly changing now. This couldn't go on like this, this was madness. She knew that if she didn't do something to make things right, the consequences would be dire.
Tara came out of the shower in a mixed mood. She found Mike, exhausted and snoring on the couch. She was still very angry with him, and worse, she had seen his weakness. It was as if her charismatic and handsome fiancé was gone, and replaced by a loser who couldn't make his own decisions, couldn't cope with difficulties, and lived in his father's shadow. This was unacceptable to her. But despite everything, she hadn't completely lost her feelings for him and wanted to hold on to the hope that they could somehow put all of this behind them.
Tara went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. She needed to relax. But what happened here with Terry was still vivid. The rough grip of his calloused hands on her shoulders. The way his foul breath licked her neck. His deliberate thrusts, which begin superficially and gradually become more obvious. And the feeling of his bulge against her ass-cheek when he pressed it firmly against her arse. Damn! It was surreal. It was so big. It was so thick. It was so gnarly.
He had captured her left breast over her t-shirt, even if only for a moment. His grip was so rough, raw, and possessive. Just like in her dreams. Tara became more aroused with each image that flashed through her mind. Her breathing had become irregular, her nipples were shooting arrows through material, and her panties were damp. Just like all day. She was dying to relax. Unable to resist any longer, she moved one hand between her legs. There was only one image in her mind: the hungry look in the old pervert's protruding eyes, burning with lust.
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For Terry, the world had literally turned upside down after his hasty departure from Tara's house. Mike's unexpected arrival and the banknotes that "snob bastard" had thrust into his hand plunged him into the deepest disappointment and rage. As he got into his car and drove away, the money in his hand felt like a symbol of the humiliating end to his most ardent moments. He gnashed his teeth, cursing Mike countless times under his breath. But his real fury was for the paradise that had slipped through his grasp. Every cell in his body was still burning, the bulge in his pants throbbing with unbearable pain.
When he returned home, he slammed the door of his ramshackle apartment. His eyes stared blankly, his mind filled with images of Tara: her provocative sportswear, her sun-tanned legs, the nipples visible beneath her T-shirt, and most importantly, the feel of her ass against his bulge. It was shocking. He couldn't believe how hard and firm it was. When he closed his eyes, he could smell Tara, feel the softness and warmth of her skin, and hear her irregular and noisy breathing. The velvety moan she let out when he grabbed her breast in the final moments was etched in his mind. And the feeling he got in that brief moment. How could something be so hard and so soft at the same time?
He wanted her with such pure, such wild desire that this craving had now brought him to the brink of madness. He couldn't control himself. He jacked off over and over, again and again. His mind was completely focused on images of Tara, visualizing her every movement, every curve.
He spent the rest of the weekend in a haze, almost in a trance. He forgot to eat, sleep didn't even cross his mind. All he did was relive that moment over and over, replaying everything he had felt in Tara's house in his mind.
He was evaluating her reactions in his twisted mind. Her unresponsiveness to his dirty acts. She was also involved in this. Was it so? How could this happen? He had never seen someone as beautiful and hot as her on television, in a magazines, or even in his dreams. Tara was a goddess from another world. His mind could not assimilate what was happening.
That weekend was not just a period of time for Terry, but a process in which his obsession with Tara was irreversibly cemented. Returning to work on Monday morning was not a duty for him, but an opportunity to approach Tara again, to continue this dangerous game where it had left off. His obsession had only deepened. He was burning to talk to her again, to see her again. During his seemingly endless masturbation marathons, he had only one thing on his mind: The Blonde Goddess.
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Tara was so nervous as she got ready for work on Monday morning. She couldn't get the events of the weekend out of her mind. Why had she invited him to her home? This was complete stupidity. She thought she had complete control of the situation, but she wasn't at all. She had seen how weak her own will was against her impulses now. She didn't know what would happen if she were alone with him again. She couldn't let this happen again, it was too risky. Teasing him, driving him crazy was one thing, making physical contact was another. She had gone too far.
But her striking reflection in the mirror told a different story. She was wearing a mini black skirt. The stylish shirt that hugged her body was barely holding her breasts it's inside. She looked like a hot secretary. She could drive any man crazy, let alone someone as obsessed with her as Terry. She looked at her perfect reflection in the mirror and left the house without a moment's hesitation.
As Tara walked towards the office, her heart began to pound in her chest. It would be so awkward to confront Terry after what had happened over the weekend. She had made too many concessions to him, and it was clear that this would make him even more daring. Tara was thoughtful about what attitude she should take. She needed to take control again and keep things within "reasonable" bounds.
When she entered the office, Terry wasn't there. Bridget had sent him out to run an errand and he wouldn't be around all day. This information brought relief to Tara, but she also felt a strange sense of disappointment.
Then drinking her morning coffee, she chatted with Betty for a while. She was talking about everything, whether important or unimportant. Her chatter was truly annoying. Tara couldn't help but think, "My God! Does this woman ever shut up?"
She needed to get away from there, she needed some time alone. So she headed for the only place she could escape to, the archive room. Her high heels clicked rhythmically as she descended the narrow, rusty iron stairs. A strange wave of excitement began to rise within her. When she opened the door, the musty, stale air filled her nostrils, but unexpectedly it didn't bother her this time. She must have gotten used to it now. Her eyes scanned the area; almost half of the file shelves appeared to be in order, but there was still more work to be done.
Not in the mood to work, Tara's attention was drawn to the hum coming from Terry's desk. It was the sound of an old computer fan. Tara had seen it before but thought it was just a piece of junk that didn't work. As she approached Terry's table, his familiar stale sweat and foul body odor began to intensify. It was this scent that had once brought her to the brink of vomiting, but now it sent a tingling sensation down her spine. Tara would sit in his shabby, stained, creaky chair. She looked at the screen, but it was dark. When she noticed the thick, long yellowish spots on it, her skin stood on end. She was hesitant to turn on the screen. She had never gone through anyone's personal belongings before, and it felt wrong. But her curiosity got the better of her. Unable to hold back any longer, she grabbed the mouse. The sticky feeling of it made her shiver with disgust. When she clicked the mouse, the computer came out of sleep mode and the screen lit up. Her jaw dropped to the floor in astonishment at what she saw. Her Facebook profile picture was set as her desktop picture. Before she could get over the shock, she saw the file with her name written on it. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest as she clicked on the file.
She couldn't stop herself from saying out loud, "FUCKK"
The folder was filled with pictures of herself working out, doing yoga, sunbathing. Terry had not only spied on her, he had also photographed those moments. She examined each of them one by one. She noticed that some shots focused on her face, breasts and mostly her ass. These were obvious proofs that he was a perverted stalker. Also his heavy obsession with her.
Tara leaned back in her chair. She was in a state of confusion, with anxiety, disgust, and anger. For a moment she considered telling Bridget the situation and sending him behind bars.
"You perverted bastard," she shouted.
Her fiery eyes fell again on the thick yellowish stains on the screen. Then to those on the table surface. And to those on the ground. It was obvious what he was using these pictures for. Huge evidence of his immorality and perversion was everywhere.
Tara suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. Her nipples had also hardened.
"What the hell is going on?" she muttered to herself angrily.
But the warmth radiating from between her legs spread down to her belly, enveloping her. This shocking disgusting discovery had aroused her greatly. Tara couldn't believe her body's reaction, but she was helpless. Unable to resist her unbridled urges any longer, she reached between her legs with one hand and grabbed her left breast with the other. She started to masturbate on the chair covered in disgusting stains where Terry had jacked off countless times thinking of her. As her movements accelerated, her breathing became shallower and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She bit her lower lip to suppress her moans as she approached the orgasm she desperately needed. Soon as her entire body began to tremble and spasm. She thrashed wildly in Terry's chair as her bodily fluids gushed from her pussy. It took long minutes for her consuming orgasm to subside. The view was pure madness. She was in complete disarray. The massive, dried remnants of Terry's semen that had stuck to the chair upholstery and the floor were now covered with pools of Tara's bodily fluids. They were mixing with each other.
