Peep Show

by Starling, Isabella

  I untied the towel around my tits and let it drop to the floor slowly. I smiled to his silhouette and turned towards Arden again, flashing him a view of my toned ass.

  Arden didn’t take any notice, apart from glancing at me quickly. We’d been naked in front of each other before, it was no big deal. And she was too involved in her boring Nick story to notice what I was doing anyway.

  I walked back to the counter and grabbed a jug of milk from the fridge. I drank it sloppily, droplets of milk running down my chin, over my neck and dribbling over my tits.

  “Why do you have to be so messy?” Arden asked me once I set it down, and I grinned at the sight of a new message on my phone.

  Make her lick you fucking clean.

  I walked over to her, pushing my tits in her face. Arden groaned and glared at me.

  “Why don’t you help me with that?” I asked her, winking.

  “Come on, Bee,” she said with a sigh. “I thought those days were behind us.”

  Memories filled my mind. Memories of three bodies twisted together, getting off, licking, sucking, fucking, until each one of us had our first orgasm. Mine came from Arden, and I still remembered it so fucking well. And now she wasn’t a virgin anymore, and Posy was no longer with us. Life fucking sucked balls sometimes.

  “Lick me,” I asked her in a soft, sweet voice.

  She looked up at me, her eyes once again showing me the vulnerable girl I’d met when we were both seventeen. We’d come a long way since then.

  I thought of Miles, and turned my head to the side to look through the window. I couldn’t see that well with the bright sunlight, but I could tell he was standing by the window, watching us. And I wanted him to.

  Arden didn’t move, so I grabbed the back of her neck and forced her mouth against my hot skin.

  “Lick,” I said gently.

  Her tongue shot out and she licked the drops of milk off my chest. I moaned when she did, so many memories coming back to me, flooding me with things we’d never do again.

  “That’s enough,” she finally said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and glaring at me. “You’re bad, Bebe. We aren’t supposed to be doing that anymore.”

  “Because of Posy?” I asked her roughly. “We aren’t supposed to be doing a lot of things, but it’s not stopping either of us, is it?”

  She looked away guiltily.

  “When was the last time you ate, Arden? Not the smoothie. Before that,” I said, my voice soft.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled in reply.

  I reached for her, my fingers tangling in her long honey-blonde hair.

  “Tell me,” I urged her, and she finally looked back up at me, her eyes filled with pain.

  It was right there. The hole between us. Yet we had never, not once, talked about it.

  “The day before yesterday,” she said softly.

  I just stared at her. I never knew what to do when she got like this. Posy was the glue that held us together. She was the girl who made sure both Arden and I were alright. But now she was fucking gone and I had no idea how to fix this, any of it.

  “You have to eat,” I told Arden. “Does Nick know about this?”

  “He knows a bit,” she said miserably, and I shook my head.

  I wanted to fix her, I wanted to fix both of us. But without Posy, it wasn’t possible. We needed each other, and with one missing link, the whole friendship had fallen apart.

  I grabbed my robe from the back of a chair, shrugging the plum silk over my shoulders. It felt nice and cool against my skin, but I left it open in the front. Partly because I wanted to tease Miles, and partly because I was hoping he’d just fucking lose his cool and come knocking on my door.

  I didn’t check my phone again.

  “Are you going out tonight?” I asked Arden.

  She shook her head no. “I’m spending the evening at Nick’s.”

  “Good,” I said with a smile. “Make sure he makes you some food again.”

  I had a feeling this new relationship was going to be good for Arden. She’d get better with his help, and he’d do things for her that I wasn’t capable of. Arden needed stability, and I was the last person she could turn to for that.

  “Do you want to come along?” she asked me hopefully. “He has some friends you could meet, or you could bring that guy from the club with you…”

  “No,” I shot her down, giving her a chilly look. “Maybe you don’t want to have fun, but I do.”

  “Bee…” she gave me a worried glance. “I know you took something last night.”

  “So?” I snapped. “You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do, you know.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I thought because of what happened with Posy, you’d maybe…”

  “Maybe what?” I spat out. “Stop living my fucking life? Well, I won’t. And neither should you. Now please get the fuck out so I can finish getting ready.”

  She got off her chair and didn’t even look at me again as she walked out. The front door slammed after her, and the second she was gone, I felt fucking miserable.

  Instead of letting myself think about it, I picked up my phone again.

  A new text was waiting.

  Call me once she leaves.

  I didn’t want to, but there was a part of me that couldn’t resist. I slid behind the counter, in a spot where he couldn’t see me at all, so he wouldn’t know there were tears streaming down my cheeks. I called his number.

  “Bebe,” he said in that deep voice that sent shivers down my spine.

  “Miles,” I replied, keeping my voice as level as I could possibly manage. “Why did you want me to call you?”

  “What are you doing tonight?” he asked me.

  His voice was fucking divine. All dark roughness and rugged need. God, I wanted him so bad.

  “Probably going out,” I said. “Why, you want to come?”

  A long pause followed and my heartbeat quickened at the thought of him somewhere outside with me, touching me as we danced to a heavy bass. I’d come for him right there on the dancefloor if he let me.

  “How about you watch a little show instead?” he asked me with a dark chuckle.

  He sent my blood pumping through my veins.

  I thought of Arden, her implied warning that I should sort my life out.

  I thought of going out, having mindless sex with a faceless stranger once again.

  I thought of Miles.

  “What kind of show?” I asked him, feeling my pussy clench under the silk of my robe.

  “A peep show, of course,” he laughed, sending chills through my body.

  Philophobia, noun

  The fear of falling or being in love.

  I had something special planned for my sweet little toy.

  I’d promised her a show, and by the time 10 p.m. rolled around, I was ready to give her one.

  The blinds opened slowly, showing me her illuminated silhouette in her own window, waiting, ready for me. She was wearing a sexy little nightie that sent my pulse racing, complete with black lacy stockings and a killer pair of heels. I’d told her to dress up. Maybe if she was dressed to fuck, I could imagine it was her cunt hugging my dick.

  I didn’t acknowledge her, not giving her so much as a wave. I barely glanced at her, and the next second, the doorbell rang.

  I felt Bebe’s eyes on me as I walked to the door, opening it wide and regarding the couple before me.

  The girl was nervous, her hands twisted in front of her. She wore a little black dress that left nothing to the imagination and sexy heels that matched her daring outfit. Her lips were painted a dark shade of red and her long blonde hair was styled perfectly. She wore thick false lashes, fluttering open for me and revealing her pretty brown eyes.

  It was really a shame because all her efforts were in fucking vain. She was going to be a perfect little mess in no time.

  Her man stood to the side, regarding me with something between ha
tred and admiration.

  He wasn’t as tall as me. His hair was light brown and cropped close to his head, his eyes a murky shade of blue. He didn’t like me, I could tell.

  But why would he? I was about to fuck his little girlfriend into pieces, and he was going to watch.

  No man in his right mind would like that. Not until they saw me in action. Not until I handed them their woman back, fucked so well she’d worship their cock for the rest of their time together.

  I wanted to tell him he should be grateful, but I knew I shouldn’t.

  Instead, I just smiled wide and moved aside to let them in.

  As soon as they stepped inside, my brow furrowed with worry.

  “Shoes off, please,” I said roughly, and they gave me incredulous looks, but slipped their footwear off.

  The girl was much shorter now, and I towered over her. Her discarded Louboutins were the last remnants of her confidence. Now, she was shaking and scared, holding on to her boyfriend’s hand for support.

  What a sweet little whore. I loved them scared.

  “It’s okay, babe,” he told her in a strained voice.

  Of course, it wasn’t okay. It was never going to be okay again. It was going to be so much better they’d beg me to come back and make me fuck her again. But of course, I would say no.

  I knew my rules, and I never broke them.

  I never wanted to, either.

  Not until Bebe.

  “It is okay,” I repeated after him, giving them both glowing smiles. “Let’s get you both something to drink. Relax your nerves, okay?”

  The girl nodded timidly and her man stared me down as I led them into the living room where the bar was.

  “What’s your drink?” I asked him first, trying to make him more comfortable with the whole arrangement.

  “I’ll take a whisky,” he said, looking at my collection of bottles.

  “On the rocks?” I asked easily, and he shook his head.

  He walked around my living room, his filthy hands touching every surface they passed. My fingers tightened around the glass as I poured his drink. I wanted to fucking kill him. I’d have to clean the whole place after they left.

  The girl stood in the middle of the room, frozen to the spot. She looked like she was on the verge of tears and it turned me on so much I had to readjust my jeans.

  I handed the guy his drink and sat down on my pristine white sofa, making myself comfortable.

  “Don’t you want to know our names?” the girl asked softly, and I gave her a curious look.

  “No, not particularly,” I said in a low voice, my eyes drinking in her sexy little body.

  She had big tits, barely covered by the dress she wore. But where the decolletage was daring, the dress reached her knees in a modest length that suggested she wasn’t as comfortable with the whole scenario as she wanted me to believe. I wondered whether her legs were in tights or stockings. It didn’t really make a difference to me. I liked tearing things apart, be it fabric or people.

  She shivered at my words and her boyfriend walked up behind her. I was curious as to what his next move might be.

  He locked eyes with me and I saw it, the emotion I’d come to know so well.

  Desperation.

  It was what drove them to my apartment, I was fucking sure of it.

  She was more beautiful than him, but he was confident where she was shy. She could probably have any man she wanted with the dose of self-confidence I was going to give her. A small, sentimental part of me hoped she wouldn’t leave her guy. He seemed to genuinely care about her. I could tell from the way his hand holding the whisky shook with nerves.

  He pushed her forward slightly, and she stumbled towards me. I opened my legs and stared right into her eyes.

  “Go on,” her boyfriend urged her, and I saw goosebumps erupt all over her skin in anticipation.

  “Do you want a drink?” I asked her, and she shook her head, her gaze glued to mine.

  She needed direction. She needed encouragement.

  But because I was a sick fucking bastard, I wasn’t going to help her, I was only going to make things worse for her.

  “Walk to the window,” I told her simply, and she nearly tripped over her own feet in her effort to obey. “See if you can see my friend on the other side of the street.”

  “I-I see her,” she stuttered, and my blood pumped all the way down into my cock.

  “Why don’t you give her a little wave,” I growled, watching the blonde wave timidly at Bebe silhouetted in the window.

  I smiled to myself, motioning to her boyfriend to sit down, and getting up myself. I walked to the record player in the corner of the room and put on some music, watching their nerves loosen ever so slightly.

  I winked at the guy as I walked over to the window, gently placing a palm against the spotless glass. The girl flinched when I approached her, but I didn’t give it a second thought. My eyes were on Bebe as I leaned closer to the blonde, my voice a caress against her skin.

  “Undress,” I whispered, my fingers finding the zipper on her back, gently tugging it down until it revealed her toned, sexy body.

  She shivered under my touch, and the tension in the room grew until it was almost palpable.

  She reached up, peeling her dress off her body and exposing herself to my watchful eyes. The dress pooled around her feet.

  I glanced at her before looking at Bebe.

  I’d never thought of how ridiculously close our apartments were. I could see every little movement she made.

  I lowered my head against the girl’s skin, my lips brushing against her shoulder ever so slightly. She flinched at the touch.

  “Shh,” I told her softly. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  She relaxed, her shoulders sagging submissively and her whole body leaning against mine. I reached up, my fingers tangling in her light mane of hair until I had them wrapped around her silky strands. It was so light compared to Bebe’s. Barely a shade above white.

  I pulled, hard, and her head snapped back, her lips parting in a surprised O and her eyes fearfully finding mine.

  “Open your mouth wide,” I said, just as gently as earlier, and she did. “Good little girl.”

  My thumb hooked in the corner of her mouth and I opened her up, looking at her pearly white teeth and her little tongue, her mouth gathering spit as she looked up at me with a mix of fear and adoration.

  “What a pretty little mouth,” I muttered. “It’s going to look so good once it’s full.”

  I pushed her down to her knees unceremoniously, and she tumbled down the rabbit hole.

  Her boyfriend was long forgotten, and I didn’t give a shit what he thought of me manhandling her. He might as well learn something from me—if he didn’t storm out in a fit of rage, that is.

  “What hole is your favorite, darling?” I asked the girl, holding her chin gently between my fingers. “What’s your favorite hole to have filled to the brim?”

  “P-Pussy,” she muttered.

  “Pussy?” I repeated, my voice sweet like I was talking to a child.

  She nodded.

  “You want that tight, hot little cunt full of my cum?” I asked her, rougher now. “You want a stranger to fuck you full of his steaming hot jizz while your boyfriend watches? What a nasty little slut you are.”

  She blanched at the realization of what she’d said, assuming I was going to fuck her raw.

  I always fucked with a condom on.

  I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t used one.

  “Would you like to have your wish come true?” I asked her softly, even though my heart was pounding with panic at the mere thought of it.

  “Y-yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please, sir,” she moaned.

  I was fine with ‘sir’. Or Daddy. Or my name. Anything to get them wet for me. There was nothing like the feeling of a tight, hot pussy dripping with need for me as I pushed m
yself inside it.

  “Beg,” I told her sweetly, and she looked away, tightly shutting her eyes. “Aww, are you shy, little girl?”

  She nodded.

  “Don’t be shy,” I said, my voice gentle again. “Don’t be shy now. Because in an hour you’re going to be begging for much worse things than having your pretty pussy filled.”

  “Please,” she whispered. “Please fuck my pussy, sir. Please fuck it full.”

  “Go on,” I urged her, my eyes going up and locking on Bebe as I unbuckled my belt.

  I fucking loved the metallic sound of the buckle as I undid it, pushing my jeans off but keeping hold of the leather belt just to scare the little slut in front of me.

  Bebe was staring. She looked angry. Actually, she looked fucking pissed as hell, and I loved it. I loved getting a rise out of her. What I was doing with her felt like insanely long, drawn-out foreplay that could result in the best sex I’d ever had.

  That is if I was ever brave enough to let her get close.

  “Please, sir, please fuck me, please make me come, let me get you off, I’ll do anything,” the girl said desperately.

  Her eyes kept going to her boyfriend, and it made me chuckle. So self-conscious. She didn’t need to be. She’d have us both, and soon.

  “I asked you to come here so my friend across the street could watch,” I said simply. “I want her fucking marinating in her lust until she’s ready to pop like an overblown balloon. Wouldn’t that be fun, little girl?”

  She nodded, desperate eyes wanting to do desperate things to have my dick inside her.

  I palmed my balls through the fabric of my boxers, right in front of her needy face, and she mewled like the helpless little whore she was.

  “Why don’t we put on a little show for her, then?” I asked, and she nodded again, her eyes glazed over with lust. “What a good girl you are. Now come here.”

  She crawled closer on her knees and I wrapped my black leather belt around her neck, but not before snapping it threateningly in front of her eyes. Her face was ghostly pale as I wrapped the belt around her slender neck, twisting it in the front and bringing her lips closer to my crotch.