CALLUM
Iwalked into Voyeur for the fourth time in two weeks. I knew I shouldn’t be there, yet I couldn’t stop. I had to make sure she was okay.
I’d kept a close eye on her, taking advantage of all the time we were around each other. Walking her to her car when I could. Something inside of me pleaded with me to keep her safe. To protect her from the horrors of the world.
The horrors of boys too amped up on power to consider they were wrong.
I shuddered and focused instead on keeping my head down under my hat as I made my way to my usual corner of the bar. The blonde, Charlotte, saw me and gave a nod, letting me know she’d bring me the beer she knew I ordered every time I came in.
Scanning the crowd, I found Oaklyn almost immediately, my attention always drawn to her. Being so in-tune with her made the days difficult. I did my best to pretend the almost kiss had never happened, to pretend I didn’t know how soft her skin was, but it was all a lie.
Every day my desire seemed to be pulling at a leash as it tried to break free and announce to everyone that I wanted her. I stared more when I knew I shouldn’t. I tried to make her stay later, just for the chance that we could be alone.
And on the nights I came to Voyeur, I watched her with a new level of feeling. When I watched her fingers skim her thighs, the tops of her breasts, any part of her body, I remembered what it felt like. Something so small and so minor, but it resonated through me, latching on like a leech to my memory.
I continued to select innocuous things each time, refusing to jack off. No matter how much my hard cock pressed against the zipper of my pants, begging to be let free, I refused.
Like the rationalization made it any better that I was there, watching my student come.
My eyes found Oaklyn again and I finished my beer. I moved to the edge of the room, never looking away from her pert nose and smiling lips. Tonight, she wore a white lace body suit, like she was a virginal bride on her wedding night. Except there was nothing virginal about the shorts that just reached the bottom of her cheeks and the deep V
in the front and back. The lace only heavy around her breasts and core.
I reached the iPad to make my selection and scrolled until I found the typical under the sheets with no nudity.
Then I looked over at her. She leaned on the bar to talk to Charlotte and it put her ass perfectly on display, her breasts seeming so much larger pressed between her arms as they tried to spill out from the lacy V.
The sexiest part? She wasn’t even doing it to lure people in. She didn’t realize that half the men in the bar were drooling over her. A look of innocence shined through and made her seem all the more untouchable to them, probably making them want her even more. Making me want her more.
Moving my hand to tap the screen and check the box I knew I should check, I changed my mind. My finger checked a few boxes I knew I’d regret later, but standing there, watching her, I didn’t give a shit.
I lurked in the corners, my eyes never leaving her. She pulled her arm up when her bracelet went off to notify her of a request. My request.
Less than ten minutes later, my arm band was going off to let me know I was all set to head to the room. My heart pounded as I walked down the hall. A roaring sound in my head only being broken by the click of the switch flipping up to let her know the room was occupied. I took deep breaths as the leather creaked beneath me as I sat. The oils and lubes on the table begging me to use them on my cock.
I remained seated, closing my eyes, fighting to ignore my erection, already rock hard with thoughts about what was to come. I’d never requested something so direct and, before it even began, a part of me regretted it. It would be a punishment to watch her so exposed and open to me.
Then she came in. Like there wasn’t someone watching her, she carried a water bottle and then set it on her nightstand. With her back to me, she tugged one sleeve down her shoulder and repeated the process with the other, baring her back to me. My hands clenched around my thighs as I watched her thumbs hook into the fabric and push it down. All the way down, keeping her legs straight, exposing everything she had to me before standing up and stepping out of the fabric.
I watched her reach in the bedside drawer and extract a thick, flesh colored dildo. A moan rushed out of my chest when she finally turned, and I saw her perfect tits. I took in her slim stomach and thin landing strip over the most perfect pussy. It’d been so long since I’d seen her naked, and I felt like a man in a desert finding an oasis.
But she’d only just begun.
Oaklyn crawled on the bed, prowling across the sheets until she found a spot in the middle. She rolled to her back and bent her knees, spreading her legs wide. Her fingers toyed with her nipples, making them ruby red before
trailing down and cresting her mound, finally delving between her lips.
She spread her wetness all around her opening, rocking her hips against her probing fingers until her other hand grabbed the dildo and eased it between her thighs. Slow pushes, a little at a time, getting deeper on each pass. The deeper it went, the louder her breathing became.
When she resumed plucking at her nipples, I groaned again, pressing my palm against my aching length. Fuck, I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t breathe from my desire. I needed more. I needed relief. Just some space I thought.
Just something to help ease the pressure threatening to explode inside me.
The sound of my zipper reverberated in the quiet room, making music with her increasing moans. I panted with her as I watched the dildo slowly slip in and out of her wet cunt. My fist gripped my shaft and began moving with the rhythm of her hips as she fucked the toy. I watched it appear shiny from her juices and disappear deep inside her.
I stroked harder, feeling the pressure build in my balls as I imagined it was me pressing deep.
My heavy breaths were so loud as I fisted my cock faster, almost at a punishing pace, racing toward an orgasm I knew was wrong, and I didn’t deserve. But I couldn’t fucking stop.
Her hips pressed up, lifting her ass off the bed as she let out whimpering moans, her fingers quickly moving over her clit as she came. And I came with her. Long white ropes of cum shot out of me into my waiting palm.
We seemed to breathe in unison and as much as I hated myself for what I’d just done, I couldn’t reject the euphoria of feeling so close to her. Of feeling like I’d gone farther with a woman than I had in a long time. Most of the time, I watched and came much earlier than the performers, cleaning up and staying until the show was over. It had never felt so personal or so connected before.
I wanted to hate myself, hate the situation I’d put us both in, and I did. But at the same time, I didn’t.
Finally getting my breathing under control, I grabbed tissues from the nearby box and started cleaning up. With my penis still out, but soft, I stood and washed my hands before walking to the door and turning off the light, letting her know the room was vacant.
When she noticed the light, she seemed to sag against the bed and in those moments when I watched her—when she thought she was alone, I didn’t see the sexual woman who worked at Voyeur. I saw a tired college student. For the first time I noticed the dark circles under her eyes that not even makeup could cover.
It hit me like a punch to the gut. How tired she must be working three jobs and going to college. I watched her lay there, staring at the ceiling, sinking into the blankets before closing her eyes for a long blink. What was she thinking? Did she hate it? Did she hate the idea of someone in here gaining satisfaction as she shared parts of herself—
gave parts of herself to others?
The questions churned in my stomach, and I quickly tucked my cock back in my pants, pulled my hat low and got the fuck out of there.
