The Collector
1. The Chance Meeting (sexless)
By Karl P. dahl
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This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts and may not be legal for you to read or possess because of your age or location. It is your responsibility to know the laws of your jurisdiction and act accordingly.
This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities with real persons or events are purely coincidental. 
Copyright (C) 2003 Karl P. Dahl. All rights reserved. 
Permission is granted to distribute this story anywhere on the Internet, provided 
(a) you do not make any modifications to the story
(b) you do not remove or alter the copyright notice and the author's email address
(c) you do not charge readers to access this story
If you distribute this story, please send me an email and tell me where you posted it.
Feedback is most welcome! To contact me, send your email to kpdahl@excite.com 
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When I saw him at the bar my blood started to rush immediately. The same reddish hair and beard, same height and body - it had to be him! It wasn't a year since the events at the rock concert, but I felt the veins bulging at the temples as if it was yesterday. There he stood, talking smoothly with the bartender, a 30-something woman with nice features, and sipping on what looked like a whiskey of some sort as casually as if it was any other day to him. Which it probably was.

on the other hand, was brought back once again to that night when I and my wife had gone to that concert to watch a band I couldn't remember the name of anymore, when that guy had robbed my girl of all her clothes and fucked her in front of me. The events came rushing to me, and without helping it I felt an erection coming when I once again saw those hands ripping of every shred of clothing from Laura and thrusting his dick into her - to her extreme pleasure, i must add - while I could only watch.

It was my buddies that brought me back to the present. "Hey, pal, where are you?" I turned to the voice of my friend Paul and saw his hand waving in front of me.

"You still with us? You were far away just now. What were you staring at?" The other two, John and Reuben, was looking right at me now as well. I shook my head to get back my bearings.

"Sorry, I was just lost in thinking" I said, trying to smooth things over.

"Yeah," Reuben said, "Have to concentrate then, have 'ya?" Always a quick remark on his lips, Reuben. The other laughed, and I had to smile myself.

"Nah, I saw where his eyes had gone: they were right at that bartender's breasts!" John filled in. "Probably already underneath her sweater by now!" That got the others another round of laughs at me.

"Poor fella, not getting any at home these days?", Paul said. I had told them all that Laura - with me - was pregnant a few weeks earlier. It had of course caused a lot of cheers, but at the same time we had made a deal to get out of a beer or two more often, since the opportunities wouldn't come so often in the future. In fact that was the reason we were sitting here this night.

When the laughs had subsided, we got back to the conversation we had earlier, something about the football season, but my concentration remained elsewhere; I couldn't let my mind of that guy at the bar. I was more cautious to when I looked at that direction so that my buddies wouldn't notice, but by getting a glimpse from time to time I could see that he was still talking to the bartender, and that he was seductive. He was making progress, to! The bartender seemed to follow just fine.

Immediately I felt adrenaline pumping inside me. I wanted to get up and confront him - no, smack him good in the face! He deserved that for what he had done to us! But my senses told me that this wasn't the right time, so I cooled off. I decided to follow him out of here instead, to get to him at a better place.

I stayed with my friends for a while, and joined their various topics for the rest of the night, but my attention was at the couple at the bar almost all the time. After a while i started yawning in order to simulate that i was about to leave soon. Not long after, i saw the guy finish his drink and say goodbye to the bartender (he obviously wasn't getting anything tonight from her), and that was my key. Immediately, I got up and took my jacket. "Adios, fellas, I must be off now."

My fellows looked rather surprised at my quick leave, but I didn't bother; I had other things in mind. I made for the door and got out just in time to see the red-head disappear behind a corner out to the main street. As I followed him I thought 'Hope he doesn't take a cab - I don't want this to turn into some bad agent story'. I was bad enough at tracing him walking and didn't want to follow him using other transportations.

But I was lucky on that part; he seemed to walk casually along the street. Hopefully he lived somewhere nearby, making it easier for me. I worried a little that he would turn back and look for followers, but he didn't. And why should he? He just walked on along the street a few blocks until he turned right into a smaller street, which he followed one more block before taking another turn left. I followed as close as I dared and saw him stop at a doorway. He got out some keys and opened. My mind raced for a moment. I knew where he lived now, but was this the right moment to get to him? Should I try to come back another day? No, I thought as I rushed for the door before it would close, this is the moment. I got it just before it was about to close and stepped inside.

Inside was a narrow hallway leading to a few apartment doors, and luck was with me once again: I saw the red-head just before he went inside one of the apartment at this floor! No chasing in elevators/steps necessary. 'No time to recollect thoughts now', I thought. Once more I dashed for a door, this time his apartment door, and slammed into it with all my force. It went up with great speed and hit the red-head in the back as he was taking off his jacket, making him tumble to the floor. I heard him scream in surprise as he fell. I had built up such an anger towards this guy that I almost couldn't stop. I kicked the door shut behind me, and before the guy had any time to react I lifted him up and pulled him into his apartment. "Now I got you!" I heard myself shout.

Then I saw the terror in his eyes, and the rage inside me subsided. The person I held in my hands was all white and chocked out of my barging into his apartment. He was shaking, and sweat protruded from his forehead. "P-p-please take all you want, just leave me!" he stammered.

I let him down and just stood there in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry..." I started, but couldn't find any suitable words to continue. What had I done? This wasn't me, chasing some guy into his own apartment and almost hitting him, What had gotten into me? All air left me at at that moment, so I just froze right there.

When the guy I had followed realized that I had lost my initiative, he apparently got his own back and dashed for the phone. The sight of him starting to call someone - probably the police - made me react once more and I shouted "Stop! I won't harm you!" When the red-head hesitated, I continued. "I'm only here for two things: a dress you stole from my wife and an explanation." I hadn't quite figured out that myself at that moment, it just came along as I said it. But it was right: those were the reasons I were here for. "If you just sit down, I'll explain".

Luckily for me, the red-head seemed to realize that I meant what I said, and put put down the phone. He then seated himself on a couch right next to him. He looked seriously suspicious when he said, "Right, but you better be quick about it."

I remained standing when I started explaining. "You see, we have met before. You probably don't remember me, but I certainly won't forget you. We were at the same rock concert a few months ago, watching The Mammoths playing. I was there with my wife, and...". I lost trail there, this was still very hard to say; I had in fact never said it to anyone other than Laura, "...you had sex with my wife right in front of my eyes. And took all of her clothing."

While I said this, the guy's expression went from suspicious to curious and finally ended in a sly smile. "Ah, the chick in the black dress" he said, "I remember her. She was hot."

I didn't like my wife being called a 'hot chick' right in front of me, but I let that be, and continued to tell to the red-head the situation from my point of view, and the events following his hasty leave. I didn't tell him that this had caused trouble to our sex life since that - that was none of his business. He listened eagerly to me with a curious smile all the time.

"Now, what I'd like from you are as I said two things. First, the dress you stole from us; it was a very dear thing that I gave to my wife before we got married, and was kind of a symbol of our love. It is hand-sewn to fit my wife and very special to both of us. Second, why the hell did you do it? The sex part I can understand, as I told you I kind of enjoyed it myself, but why ripping of all her clothes and running away from us?" My voice had cracked there at the final words, I sat down on a chair and said no more.

The room was left in silence for some moments, before the red-head said "Would you like something to drink?"

That surprised me, but I managed to say "Yes, some water. And a whiskey, if you have."

He left the couch and came back a few moments later with a glass of water and two glasses of whiskey.  He took one for himself and sat once again down on the couch. "Okay, I guess it's my turn to tell a story, now."

Next chapter
