At her daughter's advice, the housewife and a distinguished member of society opened her never-before visited cloud page in hopes of recovering her stolen phone when she saw new photos appear that the thief snapped with her locked phone.
Seeing the new photos shocked Erin to her core and she forgot all about the stolen purse and the missing pocketbook with her id and credit cards in it. Instead, she felt violated all over again. First the humiliating indignity of the broken car window in broad daylight, then the belated realization of just how many different important things she had in her purse, and now this brazen insult.
She moved the chair closer to the laptop, the laptop closer to the chair and then remembered there was even a zoom button. She used it amply but didn't move her chair back, staring at the blown-up image on the screen. An unfamiliar feeling possessed her and she swallowed saliva. Lots of saliva. Her legs started tightening on their own and rubbing up against each other, suddenly feeling confined in pantyhose. Her hand landed on her knee and stayed there, nervously fondling her kneecap. She forgot to breathe.
For a long time, Erin kept staring at a picture of the thief's cock.
The heavy front door opened and banged shut in the distance and Erin rushed to slam her laptop shut. Her heart was beating impossibly fast and she felt fear of discovery, despite having done nothing wrong. She felt flustered and somewhat confused, taking the time to straighten out her dress. An observer could conceivably conclude she was upset and taking a moment to calm herself down, but there was definitely a detectable tinge of guilt to it. She was sitting down at a table by herself and staring off into the void.
She didn't want to expose anyone else to this obscenity, she reasoned to herself.
"Mom, were you able to get in?"
Erin cringed as she lied without planning to, "No, not yet. But ... the customer service will get back soon."
"It wasn't your fault, mom. It happens, I'm just so sorry you have to deal with it." Her daughter hugged her and her mom's surprise flinch made her feel inadequate, like she wasn't doing enough to reassure. Her mom seemed so jumpy even days after the unpleasant break-in. It could have happened to anyone. She'd only parked for a minute to pick up tracts from the church. The car wasn't even locked, there was no need for someone to break the window. "I love you," her daughter said and started putting away groceries.
Throughout dinner Erin was distracted and kept glancing toward the study where she left her laptop. Conversations came and went and everyone cut her slack for acting uncharacteristically. She'd even accidentally skipped over the prayer and absentmindedly started picking at her sprouts, staring at her plate. Knowing what a shock this incident had been to her, no one said a word. Her husband, an observant man accustomed to regularity, turned a shade of angry red but he too kept it to himself out of mercy.
He promised her sternly, "Tomorrow I'll call the phone company and cancel the stolen phone, get you a replacement." It was the only way he knew to comfort, the family protector. Her rock. She smiled at him modestly but kept her eyes peeled to the ground.
After dinner Erin cleaned up hastily and started the dishwasher, loaded in less than the impeccable manner she always insisted on. She grabbed her laptop and went upstairs, locking herself in the bathroom. She sat down on the covered toilet seat and opened it. She gasped when the cock appeared, but not in surprise this time. She just stared at it dumbly, not thinking anything. Just stared, experiencing a combination of familiar and unfamiliar feelings.
Something old. The fearful aftermath of first seeing her broken car window followed by the desperate hope of maybe seeing her purse there - only to have her hope get brutally crushed by the disappointment. Something new. Something she hadn't experienced before and didn't know what to call, how to handle, how to respond to. She felt - knew - that this new feeling threatened to come down on her just as hard as the theft itself. She nursed that wild combination of feelings, still unable to classify them, and kept holding the screen close to her face.
Her other hand had slipped under her dress, inside her pantyhose, and inside her panties. The laptop, though light, felt heavier as she held it single-handedly. The page had refreshed and reset the zoom level and she couldn't pinch the trackpad now so she brought the screen closer to her face. Her middle finger slipped inside her pussy and her thumb pinched her clit in the secret little-off-center way that only she knew would bring her guaranteed joy. She remembered the fear. She moaned softly.
Uncomprehending as to why but savoring the nastiness, she stuck her tongue out and licked the screen up and down over the pictured shaft. Just once. It was the freakiest unprompted thing she'd ever done in her life.
"Can you wait a few days before calling the phone company?" Erin sheepishly asked her husband as they were reading in bed, hours later.
"Sure, but why?" he asked, very puzzled. He normally handled all the bills and wasn't used to being second-guessed. In fact, he was sure he disliked being asked about it to begin with.
"In case I get that cloud thing working and it tells me where the phone is."
Her husband didn't know anything about that stuff, so he agreed to just go along with it. "I'll call them Friday," he compromised. He was annoyed at the entire situation. Only a stupid person would leave a purse in a car in the city, he felt. He told her as much that day. Two of them read for nearly an hour and had he paid just a little more attention, he would've noticed she never turned a single page. She was lost in her head, her crotch overheating under the duvet, her face frozen in a look of complete disgust.
Erin spent most of her morning frustrated beyond measure, stuck in the labyrinth of the department of motor vehicles trying to get her driver's license. First she got in the wrong line. Then they told her she needed her birth certificate as the new license was supposed to be real-id compliant. Then those county records people inexplicably demanded to see her ID, which was stolen. At every circular turn, she felt anger, more and more anger. When the last person spent 20 minutes working on the computer and then inexplicably shut down and passed her along to a different window for someone else to redo everything, Erin actually growled in frustration.
Anger radiated out throughout her body and instead of the latest employee behind the counter all she saw in her mind was that cock on the screen. The man who broke her window, who stole her ID, who stole her credit cards, who stole everything and left her with broken glass to clean up and suffer her husband's angry comments had caused this frustration for her. All of it was him. The impotent rage she felt at being played like a ping pong ball in this building manifested itself as that hard cock. She was forced to see it after the ordeal, after being stolen from, after being so frightened.
