SPY

Chapter 97 - SPY

Rem slipped out of her room on quiet feet, pulling the door shut behind her with deliberate care. She kept one hand on the handle until the latch settled into place, then stood still for a moment, listening.

Nothing.

Satisfied that she hadn't disturbed anyone, she turned toward the hallway. Her oversized T-shirt hung loosely over her frame, its hem brushing the tops of her bare thighs as she walked. She hadn't bothered putting on anything else before leaving her room. There was no reason to, as far as she was concerned. She was only going to the kitchen.

The house was unusually quiet at this hour. Without the usual movement and conversation, even the faintest sounds seemed amplified. The soft padding of her feet against the floor, the distant hum of an appliance, the occasional creak from somewhere in the house—all of it made her instinctively lower her steps.

She was halfway toward the kitchen when she noticed movement ahead.

Rem stopped immediately.

Mike stood near the counter, his attention fixed on the cabinet in front of him. He opened it, reached inside, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. After setting it on the counter, he retrieved two glasses and placed them beside the bottle.

Rem blinked.

What's he doing?

She hadn't expected to find anyone awake, much less Mike preparing whiskey in the middle of the night. More importantly, why were there two glasses?

Her curiosity got the better of her.

Quickly, she stepped back and pressed herself against the wall before he could turn in her direction. She leaned forward just enough to keep him in sight, peering around the corner with one eye.

Mike didn't seem to notice her.

He picked up the bottle and both glasses, carefully balancing them in his hands before turning away from the kitchen counter. Rem drew her head back behind the wall, waiting until his footsteps carried him farther down the hallway.

Then she followed.

She kept several steps between them, moving whenever he moved and stopping whenever he did. It was hardly a sophisticated operation, but she was determined not to get caught. Every time his footsteps slowed, she found herself holding her breath until he continued.

Mike eventually stopped outside May's room.

Rem watched from farther down the hallway as he adjusted the glasses in his hands and opened the door. A moment later, May's voice drifted out from inside, too soft for Rem to make out the words.

Mike stepped into the room.

The door closed behind him.

Rem remained where she was, staring at it.

So he had gone to May's room with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

That was certainly interesting.

She glanced back toward the kitchen, then at the closed door again. For a few seconds, she debated whether she should simply return to her room and mind her own business.

Her curiosity won.

After waiting to make sure Mike wasn't about to come back out, she crept down the hallway. She stopped beside May's door, glanced around one last time, and carefully bent toward the keyhole.

She closed one eye and peered inside.

Mike and May were sitting side by side on the edge of the bed. Their heads were turned toward each other, and they appeared to be talking quietly. Rem couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could see their expressions well enough to notice that neither looked particularly happy.

They seemed serious. Almost sad.

Rem frowned slightly.

She had expected something more interesting, though she wasn't entirely sure what. Instead, the two of them were simply sitting there, talking like ordinary people having an ordinary conversation.

She continued watching.

A minute passed.

Then another.

Nothing particularly unusual happened. Mike and May remained on the bed, their conversation continuing in low voices. Rem shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to find a more comfortable position without losing her view through the keyhole.

It didn't help.

Before long, an uncomfortable ache began spreading across her lower back. She had been bent at an awkward angle for far too long, and her patience was beginning to wear thin.

With a quiet wince, she straightened and rubbed the sore spot.

"Ugh..."

She glanced at the door again.

Whatever they were discussing, it clearly wasn't going anywhere exciting. She had sneaked down the hallway, nearly given herself away twice, and spent several minutes contorting herself just to watch two people sit on a bed and talk.

Rem let out a small sigh.

I'm being stupid.

She gave the door one last suspicious look before turning around and heading back toward the kitchen. If Mike and May wanted to have a private conversation in the middle of the night, that was their business. She had no intention of spending the rest of the night spying on them.

Besides, she was thirsty.

Once she reached the kitchen, Rem took a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water, and drank it. The cool water eased her dry throat, and she set the empty glass beside the sink before glancing toward the cabinet where Mike had found the whiskey.

She hesitated.

The bottle had been left out earlier, but Mike had taken it with him to May's room. Rem looked toward the hallway, considering whether there was any reason to investigate further.

Then she dismissed the thought.

She had already wasted enough time.

Turning away from the counter, she started toward her room again. But as she passed the entrance, her eyes landed on the shopping bags still sitting where they had been left earlier.

She stopped.

The bags had been there for quite some time, practically begging to be explored. May had scolded her earlier and told her not to touch them, which had forced Rem to leave them alone despite her considerable curiosity.

At the time, she hadn't wanted another lecture.

Now, however, the house was quiet, Mike and May were occupied in the bedroom, and nobody seemed likely to notice if she took a quick look.

Rem glanced down the hallway.

Then she crouched beside the bags.

"Just a quick look," she murmured to herself.

She opened the nearest bag and began searching through its contents until she found the new heels. Her face brightened immediately.

There they were.

Rem pulled them out, set them carefully on the floor, and slipped them on. She stood up slowly, testing her balance before taking a tentative step forward.

Then another.

The shoes felt different from what she was used to, and she adjusted her posture, lifting her chin as she tried to get a feel for them. Once she was satisfied that she could walk without stumbling, her expression shifted into something far more confident.

An idea occurred to her.

Rem straightened her back, rolled her shoulders, and began walking down the hallway again, this time with considerably more purpose. She let her hips sway with each step, imagining a row of cameras flashing around her.

She lifted one hand in a graceful wave.

Then she blew a kiss to an imaginary audience.

Another step. Another wave.

By the time she reached the end of her improvised runway, she had fully committed to the performance. She turned with exaggerated elegance, took a few careful steps in the opposite direction, and struck a pose as though she had just finished walking in a fashion show.

A small, satisfied smile spread across her face.

She was getting the hang of it.

Rem continued her little performance for a while longer, experimenting with different poses and trying to make each turn look more natural than the last. Occasionally, she had to slow down to keep the heels from slipping, but that only made her more determined to get it right.

Eventually, she returned to the shopping bags and took off the shoes.

She wasn't finished yet.

Setting the heels aside, Rem rummaged through the remaining purchases and tried on a couple more things, examining each one before deciding whether she liked it. She took her time, absorbed in the simple pleasure of having new things to experiment with.

But she knew she couldn't leave everything scattered around the entrance.

After trying on the last item, she carefully put everything back into the bags, arranging the contents as neatly as she could. She checked the floor to make sure she hadn't left anything behind, then stood up and gave the bags a final glance.

Everything looked as it had before.

Satisfied, Rem turned toward her room and resumed her quiet walk down the hallway, leaving the shopping bags exactly where they had been. On her way back to her room, Rem’s gaze drifted toward May’s door again. Mike was still inside.

She slowed, her curiosity stirring once more. Whatever they were doing in there, she hadn’t seen anything interesting so far. But now that she knew they were still together, she couldn’t quite resist taking another look.

Her lower back gave a faint twinge at the memory of her earlier spying attempt.

“Not doing that again,” she muttered.

Instead of bending over, she lowered herself onto her knees in front of the door. She shifted closer until her face was level with the keyhole, then closed one eye and peered inside.

The moment she saw what was happening, she jerked backward so violently that she lost her balance and landed on her ass with a soft thud.

For a second, she could only stare at the door, her heart hammering in her chest.

Then, curiosity overpowering her shock, she scrambled back onto her knees, leaned forward, and pressed her eye against the keyhole again.

Mike and May were locked together like they couldn’t get close enough. His hands were buried in the soft flesh of May’s ass, squeezing hard. Soft, breathy moans slipped from May’s mouth. Then May rolled him, straddled his waist, stripped his clothes away, and wrapped her fingers around his thick cock. One firm stroke from base to tip.

After watching the whole scene for ten minutes, heat flooded between Rem’s bare legs.

Her hand moved on its own, sliding under the hem of the oversized shirt. Fingers found the already-slick folds of her pussy.

“I know this is wrong,” she whispered under her breath, voice shaky, “watching Mom doing this, b-but…”

She parted her soft vertical lips with two fingers and kept watching, eyes fixed on the keyhole while her hand began to move.

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