Erotic Phone Sex – The Start of a Femme Fatale Night Prowler
As early as I can remember, my family would whisper shit about my father “The Night Stalker”. The tales I heard as a young girl, literally made my skin crawl. Yet, right before puberty, these same stories of this sexual night prowler. made my sweet cunt pound for penetration. I’ll take you back to the beginning, before I was even a blip on the radar. My mother, Regina Hatcher was born and raised in Los Angeles California. By a young, single woman who would prostitute to make ends meet.
My grandma would work in the evening while my mom was home alone having erotic phone sex.
One warm summer’s night around midnight, Regina was sleeping in her bed when a dark haired 20 something dude broke into her opened window. My mom recalled this tall, lanky man shaking her awake. This night prowler quickly ushered her out the window, then carried her to his car. It was dark and my mother, a young girl at the time, was still half asleep. She had this feeling of familiarity when it came to this stranger. She actually thought it was a family member picking her up.
Mom can’t remember how long she was in his car or what the car looked like.
But she does remember at one point this dude told her to open up the glove compartment. She did, only to see his gun. He shut the glove box, throwing her look as if to say, there it is, do as I say, or else.
The night prowler had my mom touching the bulge in his pants as his large fingers fondled her pussy. He told her to pull his cock out. Only to instruct my mother to lay on the long bench seat, head in his lap, as he forcefully pressed her mouth down on his hard cock. This criminal pulled up beside a house surrounded by other homes. There were a few German Shepherds that started barking at them behind a chain link fence. He told Regina to climb into a big zipped duffle bag.
He warned her as she stepped into the bag to keep her mouth shut.
She remembers him giving her a look of death before he said “if you don’t do what I say, I will kill you”. As he walked into the house she vaguely remembered seeing clutter on a couple of couches, the TV was on, with a dank stench in the air. This pedophile rushed her to a small room with only a bed and dresser with yellow rope tied around the legs. The night prowler would sit her on his lap, while he slapped and fingered her pussy. He would tell mom to spread her legs wide before he began finger fucking her.
Eventually laying her down on her back so he could thrust his cock in and out of her pussy and butthole.
She said he would ram his cock in and out of her so aggressively. Giving her this evil laugh while he watched her cry. Whispering into her ear “you love it whore, tell me you love it”. She refused, begging him to stop, crying it hurts. The only way my mom would get a break from his relentless hardcore fucking was telling him she had to go pee. The night prowler would lift her up on the sink in the bathroom to go pee.
After days of this sexual torture, he told her to get back into the duffle bag, walked her out to his car and drove away.
It wasn’t long before he pulled over on the side of the highway in Los Angeles. She looked into his black eyes, hearing the words, there’s a gas station over there, go, have them call the police and your mom. She hightailed it out of his car, never looking back.
Hope you check out part 2 of on which will be posted 8/26/21 right here. If you can’t wait until then, you can purchase my
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