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How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 2

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How
Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 2
Chloe Goes Bat-Shit Crazy, then resorts to
stalking.

Based on a post by oldtruckdriver.

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Stories.




Chloe hopped out of bed and went to grab the drinks. On the way to

the kitchen she thought not only had she not had Dave use a condom
but she had him in her apartment. Both of those were pretty high on
her list of things not to do. Her well-fucked cunt was leaking a
long stream of juice down past her knees, by the time she had
refreshments dished up. When she came back with the beverages she
also had a bowl full of red and green grapes. They sat cross legged
on the bed and ate the grapes and re-hydrated.

"When we first got in the apartment you said you were horny

and would explain later.

"I guess I did. Well, it started last night"

Chloe took a good part of an hour detailing the long string of bad

luck and fluke circumstances from her 2 days of cock trolling. By the
time she was finished he was rolling on the bed laughing. "Wow!"
he exclaimed; "and I thought I had a fucked up night."

She was flat on her back, laughing right along with him and said,

"The only reason I can laugh about it is because of your failed
attempt at mugging me. The night has turned out so much better than I
thought it was going to, that's for sure. My craving for a good
cunt-pounding was driving me nuts, but it was so thoroughly rewarded
by finding and seducing you, Sir David.”

He got up on his knees next to her and looking down said, "And

it doesn't look like it's over yet." Referring to the turgid
flag pole extended over her lovely tit.

"Well look who decided to join us.” She turned her head

and kissed the red bulbous head. “Let's get him wrapped up
shall we?" she asked reaching into her nightstand for a condom.

The sex was very good. He was a considerate lover and induced her

huge orgasm; and then brought her along for an even bigger one, when
he climaxed. When he pulled out, she peeled off the condom and
dropped in into the bedside wastebasket.

He pulled her over until she was lying with an arm and a leg

draped over him.

"That was very nice," Dave said, "Do you mind if I

take a little nap? When I wake up I'll slip out."

"First of all," she said grabbing her phone, "put

your number in this. I'll give you a few days to get a new phone and
I'll call you."

She looked at him for a moment and thought to herself, well I've

broken two of my rules tonight, why not a third.

"I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night. Tomorrow's Sunday,

we could go for brunch somewhere." She found she was holding her
breath waiting for his reply. This was her bravest and most insecure
moment of taking initiative and risk.

"Much as I would love that, I have to get home early, to get

Sharon to church."

Chloe reeled back from him, then put both her feet into his ribs

and pushed. She couldn't knock him all the way out of bed but he got
the hint and scrambled out the far side.

"You miserable son of a bitch, get the hell out."

"Let me explain," he begged.

"Go choke your own chicken, bastard," she yelled

pointing toward the door.

He quickly dressed and left the bedroom. She followed him naked to

the front door. He fumbled with the three locks on her door and she
shoved him out of the way, got them unlocked and jerked the door
open.

He was half way through the door when he stopped. No; by god, once

tonight was enough. He stepped back into her apartment and pulling
the door out of her hand, gently closed and locked it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm calling the

police," she yelled. If anything her volume had increased.

Very firm and reasonably he said, "No, no you're not. You are

going to sit down while I explain a few things to you."

"I am not interested in anything you might have to say."

It was a classic Hallmark Movie scene of Chloe being the
over-reacting dingbat chic, feeling insecure about giving her heart
away, then impulsively assuming the worst in a decent guy.

"Well Chloe," he began softly, "I think there are

things you should be aware of so please sit down." Then he
roared, "And shut the fuck up, for the love of God!"

This startled Chloe so much she actually submitted to his strong

male assertiveness. She shut up and looked at him. His face was a
mask of anguish. She silently sank down onto her sofa. David
disappeared down the hallway and soon reappeared with the comforter
from her bed. He draped it around her and then sat down in the
armchair.

"I was already accused of a lot of things that weren't true,

tonight. I gave up on that other bat-shit crazy chic, because she was
not worth fighting for. You on the other hand, I think, are worth
fighting for. So, from the top, I am not married and have no kids. My
ex, Brittany, was compatible for a while, but eventually didn't like
being married and feeling tied down.

I met Brittany when we were in college. She was a foreign student,

here on an academic visa. She was passionate about us and we married
a week after completing our grad studies. That was 4 years ago.

Two years ago she was granted citizenship. Three weeks later she

took off. I haven't seen her since. A month after she left I got
divorce papers. We had a prenup and she got nothing of mine.

I work in the financial district, actually I'm in arbitrage, and

make a ton of money. I just resumed dating a few months ago and
tonight was the fourth date with bat shit crazy lady.

Now, I don't owe you anything and you don't owe me anything. We

just happened to meet each other and have the best night of my life.
If I gave you a good time too, that's great. I repeat; I am not
married and I am not in any type of relationship, with anyone. The
only thing I can be rightly accused of is being a divorced man.

I'm sorry, I didn't mention that as I was being dragged up here by

my cock. I didn't think it was germane to the situation. The 'Sharon'
I have to take to church is my German Shepard. The church is at the
nursing home where my mom lived until she died. I used to take Sharon
to see my mom, and the staff convinced me to keep bringing my dog in
as pet therapy for the lonely residents who were my mother's last
friends. Sunday is our day for that. Just after the residents have
breakfast.

Thank you for your time and patience."

She sat there stunned while he got up and unlocked the door. He

opened the door and have her a long sad look and was gone. She hung
her head and started crying. She woke up the next morning in her bed,
but did not remember moving from the sofa. She only left her bed that
day to pee and toward evening heat a can of chicken noodle soup.

She thought about David all day Monday. On Tuesday she started

calling the number he had put in her phone. He had given her the
right number but every time she called it went right to a full
voicemail. On Friday she was still getting the same result.

She spend the weekend outside the city, with her parents. She

insisted they watch The Princess Bride and she cried through most of
it.

The Hunt For Her David.

After trying a couple times Monday morning she had finally had

enough. OK she thought to herself, you are in I T, you know how to
run a search. So she started a search with the known facts. She had a
first name, she knew he worked for a financial firm, he was in the
arbitrage department. Her results showed 117 hits for Davids in
arbitrage. How can that be she wondered. She had had to look up
arbitrage to find out what it even dealt with. It sounded like a very
tedious way to earn money. She started on her list and had phoned 30
Davids by the end of the day. Tuesday and Wednesday saw her at the
end of her list with no hits.

Then she thought maybe the firm David worked for didn't call that

division arbitrage. She did a search of every financial institution
in the area. This yielded 245 new Davids. It took her nearly two
weeks to go through them all without finding her David. His phone now
said the number was no longer in service.

She gave up at this point and tried to forget him. She moped

around at work until her boss finally called her in. He was a good
guy and soon got her talking. He heard her out and then picked up his
phone, searched for a number and dialed.

"Hey Mike, Stu Cooke here, I need you to do a 50 mile radius

search. White male, 25 to 30, brown and brown, 6 feet, medium build,
first name David, probably find him in stocks, financial, banking.
This is personal so quick like bunny, my friend. Thanks, see you at
the Carlson's on Saturday, bye."

Chloe said, "I already ran a similar search, I got nothing."

"Yeah, but you don't have the resources Mike has. His company

does FR searches. If this David has had his picture published
anywhere, the facial recognition software will find him. Now get out
of my office, I have work to do."

She stood up and said, "Thanks Boss man, you're the best."

The next afternoon she got an email from FR Database. There was an

attachment with pics of 64 men. She slowly went through them and
about halfway through, there he was: David Wheeler wearing a tux and
smiling shyly. She clicked on his pic and the press release the photo
was from came up. It was a charity ball to raise money for,
naturally, Pet Therapy Project. He was there as a representative for
a private banking company.

She ran a search on David Wheeler and found he worked for a

private investment bank. No wonder she hadn't found him. Then she
searched divorce court records and got an address. If she remembered
the building correctly each apartment went for 2-3 million bucks.

Suddenly she wasn't so sure finding him was a good idea. She had a

good job but he probably made twenty times what she did. Why would he
be interested in her? Her next thought was, money does not buy
happiness, and she had every right to look for that happiness. Then
she thought to herself, a court of law would not call it looking for
happiness, they would call it stalking.

Chloe wondered how she could meet him in the right circumstances.

She couldn't just show up on his doorstep. She probably couldn't get
past the doorman. His work was out too, but she could wait outside
his work and then follow him, er stalk him. What the hell was wrong
with her? She had never acted this way with any other guy, not even
crushes in high school. This guy is everything you Don't want in a
man. He's probably a workaholic, he's rich, he lives in a penthouse,
she would be just another trophy wife. Wife! Oh no, not wife, where
did that come from? She didn't know if he would ever speak to her
again let alone want to marry her. Marry! My God, I am going crazy,
he's going to call me 'bat-shit crazy lady.'

The biggest question was still why. Why was she obsessed with this

guy? And that's all it was, right? an obsession? She had gone out
with quite few guys, some of them she had even had short
relationships with. Her list of guys she had fucked and forgotten was
fairly long. Most people would indeed consider her a slut. So why,
why this guy? The voice in her head, the one with the answers, was
obstinately quiet.

Now, here's the plan, she said to herself. I'm going to stand

outside where he works and let him see me. If he wants to talk to me
he will approach me. If he sees me and ignores me, I will walk away
and never think of him again.

She had gone in early the next morning so she could leave in time

to be at David's workplace when he came out. She had dressed casually
in jeans and tennis shoes. Who knew how long she would have to wait
on hard concrete. No way she was going to do that in heels. She
cabbed over and got out. For a moment she thought the cabby had made
a mistake. The address she wanted didn't seem to exist. She walked to
the end of the block and found a number on the building so she turned
and walked past a high limestone block wall to the other end of the
block. It was a nice restaurant with the address etched in the glass
above the door. Apparently the address was also the name of the
restaurant. It had to be here she thought, banks, even private ones
had to have a way to get in, didn't they?

Halfway down the block was a small door recessed into the

limestone wall. It had no writing or numbers on it. Then she noticed
a business card sized brass plate embedded in the wall. All it had
was the name of the firm David worked for. Well, she thought, at
least that part went right. Then she realized she could not just
stand on the sidewalk for untold hours. She decided she would go back
to the restaurant and ask for a seat by the window and watch for him.
She had a 50 50 chance of his walking that way.

Then she had another thought. What if the main

entrance was actually in the back of the building. She crossed the
street to see if she could see something behind the wall. From that
perspective she could just see the roof line of what was maybe a
three or four story building that looked more like a mansion than an
office building. She turned and looked at the building on her side of
the street. It was an office building that looked like it had windows
that overlooked the street on every floor.

She went in and found a tenant board. She picked a

firm on the top floor just in case someone asked what she was doing
wandering around. She rode the elevator to the eighth floor and
turned left when she got off. Sure enough there was a large window in
the foyer. She walked over and looked down on the target. She giggled
out loud. Target indeed, here she was, a female Tom Cruise, gathering
intelligence for her mission. Then she snorted and thought, well
that's about as real a scenario as the rest of what she was doing.

Her target was a Greek Revival style mansion in four stories with

a three story wing on each side. It was set toward the rear of the
property and there was a nice courtyard and garden covering the area
all the way to the wall. It looked as if the front door only served
as an entrance to the courtyard area. That must mean the main
entrance is actually in the rear of the building. Having finished her
surveillance she made her way back to the street.

She turned right when she got to the street. She went to the

corner and crossed and continued down to the alley. The alley had an
ornate metal fence with a large gate that stood open. She walked
through the gate and saw it was paved with cobblestones and in good
repair. It was also very clean, much cleaner that the street outside
the gate. It was somewhat narrow for perhaps 80 feet then opened up
on the right. The rear of the mansion was on her left. In the opening
on her right were spaces for about twenty cars. They were nose in
against a brick wall. Names were painted on the wall above each
space. And there, the fourth space, in was David Wheeler's name. She
stopped and looked at the car and was not surprised that it was a
gray Lexus GS 350.

"Pardon me miss, may I help you?" a voice behind her

asked.

She turned and looked up at a nice looking man in a security

uniform. He was smiling and polite but what he had really asked was,
what the fuck do you think you're doing?

She returned the smile and explained, "I was just using this

as a shortcut, is that all right?"

"Of course miss, it is a public thoroughfare. We do however,

like to keep an eye on the personal property of our clients and
associates. You understand I'm sure," he replied with the same
get the hell out of here smile.

"Naturally, I just had to stop and admire this gorgeous piece

of machinery. It's a beauty isn't It."

His smile was genuine this time, "That it is miss, that it

is."

She gave him another smile and continued on down the alley. Shit,

now what are you going to Miss Cruise? There was no place on either
end of the alley to wait. What was she going to do anyway, jump out
in front of his car. Well, if he were going fast enough that might be
a solution. She walked back to the main street and looked around. In
the opposite direction from David's building was a coffee shop.

A Sighting.

She headed that way, a mocha latte couldn't hurt, it might even

help. She sat at the counter that faced out onto the street. She
wasn't really paying attention to what was happening around her. She
just sipped at her latte feeling sorry for herself. She looked out
the window and across the street saw a bistro, an office supply
place, a gym and a bakery. Typical downtown fare, nothing worth
noting. Even the people were typical. Women in business attire,
shopkeepers, bicycle messengers in bike shorts with colorful shirts
with helmets, men in suits. Some of them were sharper than others in
their Armani or Brioni. David looked very sharp in his Brooks
Brothers three piece.

Wait, what? It was David! There he was striding down the street

carrying a gym bag. When he reached the gym he produced a key card
and went in. She dashed out and, not looking, was nearly run over by
a cab. She blew off his honk and an insult in a language she did not
understand. The door was long closed by the time she got there. No
amount of tugging or banging with both fists produced any results.
She gave up and went back to the coffee shop.

The only thing that kept going through her head was, I saw my

David, I saw my David. Then she shook her head violently. He's not
your David, asshole. He's just a guy who will probably be terrified
when you confront him. Well, she thought, my mom will probably bail
me out of jail when he has me arrested.

She sat clutching her purse so she could rush out when he exited

the gym. She jumped every time the door opened. Finally it was him.
He had changed to a polo shirt and khaki pants. He had his gym bag in
one hand and his suit on a hanger over his other shoulder. She rushed
out and stood at the curb and yelled his name.

He turned in confusion then saw her. He stood there staring for

what seemed like an hour to her, but was really only two seconds. His
gym bag fell out of his hand and his expensive suit fluttered to the
dirty sidewalk. He never took his eyes off her as he crossed the
street. Cars in both direction slid to a halt. Somehow he made it
unscathed to her side. He stopped in front of her and looked into her
soul.

Reunited.

"You," was the only thing he said before bringing her

into his arms. They stood there crying on each other for a long time.
Then he held her at arms length and just...looked.

He snapped out of it and cried, "My suit!" He grabbed

her hand and this time looked before leading her across the street.
He picked up his things and looked around. "We need to talk and
I need a drink. Maybe many drinks." They walked down a block to
a bar called Harry's.

He asked her, "Martini's?"

"Dirty with two olives."

He told the waiter, "A pitcher of martini's, dirty, and a

bowl of olives, please."

"How did you find me?" he started, "no wait, let me

go first. The night I left your place I was devastated. I really
liked you and had screwed it up completely. I just wandered around
not paying attention to where I was. It started raining again and I
didn't have a phone to call for a ride. I flagged down a cab and went
home. I came back the next day to apologize and I couldn't find your
house. Do you know how many brownstone's there are in that area? I
knew it was within a block or so of bat shit crazy lady and I swear I
knocked on every door and asked a lot of very suspicious and wary
people if they knew where Corey lived."

She interrupted him, "It's Chloe, C H L O E."

"Oh," he said frowning, "I guess that would make a

difference huh"

"Anyway I had no last name, where you worked, nothing to help

me find you." he took her hands and said, "I have been lost
without you. I can't focus, I can't sleep, my boss calls me Zombie
man. So how did you find me?"

"Well, I had your phone number and I tried that for days. I

couldn't get through and finally it went out of service."

"Let me explain that. On Monday I went to my carrier to get a

new phone. I asked if they would transfer everything to my new phone.
She started to

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