Cat and mouse

The silence stretched on. I struggled to maintain the slow, deep breathing that was serving as my cover story. On my stomach, with my head facing the wall next to the bed, even if I were to open up my eyes, I would not be able to see anything but the white plaster. Instead, I was **** to rely completely on my sense of hearing. I strained my ears, and could hear, ever so slightly, Cat's breathing to my right, from the center of the room.

Eventually, I heard movement again around the room. I heard footsteps, and then a bag being set down next to Cat's desk, which was near the foot of the bed. I heard the chair being pulled out from the desk, and imagined I could hear Cat sitting down on it. I heard the keys of her computer clattering. I made a calculated decision. I knew that with Cat facing the computer, I might have a chance to slip my member back into my boxers without her noticing. I also knew that, but for the clicking keyboard, the room was very quiet, and she would be just as able to hear any movement from me as I was able to hear movements from her. The thing is, I suspected that Cat was likely to lie down on the bed at some point, to nap with me; it was bad enough that I was only in my boxers, and I didn't want it to be any worse than that if she did decide to do so. I decided to test the waters. I adjusted an arm, bending it a little, trying to make it look realistic as an action I might make while asleep. As soon as I moved my arm, the keyboard stopped making its noise; I could vividly imagine Cat turned around in her desk chair, watching me. I made no further movement, though, and before long, the clicking of the keyboard continued.

After a few mintues of what I assume was writing an email, I heard the desk chair slide against the floor again. Footsteps pattered across the room. I could hear activity from her clost, hangers sliding against the metal hanging bar, drawers opening and closing, shoes getting kicked off into the wall at the back. Again, knowing the layout of the room, I knew her back was to me as she shuffled around her closet. I lifted my left hip a little, to create some room to sneak a hand underneath myself when the opportunity presented itself. This was a relatively safe move, since the only thing that could really see underneath me was the wall next to the bed. I adjusted my body position using the smallest movements possible, and did my best to freeze whenever the commotion from the closet died down to quiet. I knew that I would have to get a hand all the way underneath me, to tuck myself in as I was lifting up my boxers. Unfortunately, the noise from the closet had died down, so I had to put my movement on hold until Cat sat down at her desk again, or did some other activity that would be guaranteed to be diverting her attention.

A long pause followed. I hadn't heard any footsteps, or the closet door closing, so I assumed Cat was still there, perhaps checking her makeup. I waited. Eventually, I heard footsteps again, and was cautiously optimistic, since they seemed to be heading towards the room's door. I don't think it's overstating it to say that I was overjoyed and relieved to hear the door opening, and then swinging closed. As soon as I heard the click of the door resting into place, I quickly darted my hand underneath myself, and tucked myself in, so to speak. I then let my left hip again rest on the bed, and started to think about whether I wanted to "wake up" now and put on some clothes before Cat came back, or whether I wanted to "wake up" while she was around, so that I could do some acting and really play up how tired I was. I decided that the difficulty of hiding my continuing erection outweighed any benefits I might have from play-acting a wake up, and rolled over to grab my jeans and pull them on.

To my horror, Cat was standing in the middle of the room, staring evenly at me. I knew instinctively that she had been playing me all along, toying with me. I guess my fake deep-sleep-breathing was not authentic enough. I guessed that she had been watching me as she typed, watching me as she shuffled items around in her closet, though I had no way of being sure. What I was sure of, the thing that was very apparent at this point, was that she opened the door to her room, and let it close, without actually leaving the room. I can think of no reason for doing this, other than drawing me out of my mouse hole, so to speak. It had worked. Now I was half-sitting on the edge of her bed, my legs hanging off the side, my dick straining against the fabric of my boxers.