This silly bitch has given me the perfect alibi. She's invited me into her home, got my prints and DNA all over it. Now she's fucked me and covered herself with my DNA. Plus she's convinced I'm impotent. What better excuse do I have when the cops are looking for the guy who rapes her? And raped she will be, no doubt about it. I may be having some problems generally, but as soon as I think about her at my mercy, trussed like a Thanksgiving Turkey, my cock throbs at the thought. Trouble is, she's relaxing with me around. I need to get her thinking about the possibility of someone stalking her, of maybe even getting into her apartment. Build up a background story.<br/><br/>So one evening, as we're eating, I mention it casually.<br/><br/>'Mia, I don't want to worry you unnecessarily. I may not be the only person watching you. It may just be a feeling, but I can't shake it off. I've tried varying my routine, watching out for the same face in the crowd or for someone suddenly changing direction. I've not spotted anyone, but tomorrow I'll leave earlier than you and wait along your route to work. Is that OK? I know it'll leave you exposed, but it's the only thing I can think of. What do you say?'