Never Say Never

by Alison Tyler

  •Make a date with your partner to play the voyeur. Plan to catch your mate in the shower (spying through the door or the curtain). Or—if you live in an amenable location—peek through an actual window. (I recommend doing this from the backyard, to avoid being reported as a real Peeping Tom!)

  •Film a sexy video of yourself to show to your partner. Screen the movie together, or use the movie as foreplay to set the mood. (Store the film in a safe place to avoid spying yourself on the Internet.)

  •Visit a sex club and watch. Soak up every sight, sound, and sigh.

  FICTION: VOYEURISM

  WHEREVER I WANDER

  JANINE ASHBLESS

  Hal!”

  My shocked cry brought my husband out of our tiny en suite into our cabin, a towel wrapped about his hips. “What?” he asked.

  “Phone home.” I didn’t look up from our laptop screen. “Phone home now!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Stacia—she’s…”

  He bounced onto the foot of the bed with me, to see what I was seeing. I was aware with some corner of my mind that he’d just emerged from the shower, and that he was still damp and scented with tea-tree body wash. But most of my attention was on the WiFi feed running on my laptop screen.

  “Oh…” he said.

  Stacia was on the sofa—my sofa, strewn with the cushions I’d chosen—with a young man. They were kissing, passionately, and she had her blouse off to reveal a lacy bra and pillowy breasts. His hands were all over her, stroking and caressing, and although the live feed was silent, I had no difficulty hearing her mimed sighs and squeaks of pleasure in my head.

  “I went online to check that everything was all right back home,” I explained, aware that what I was doing might look a little like spying. “Look what she’s doing! Ring her now!”

  “Me?”

  I cast him a hard glance. His own gaze was glued to the screen. “I can never work out your phone,” I complained, but it was an excuse and I knew it.

  “And say what?” he asked.

  “To stop what she’s doing!” Which was, at that moment, pulling the boy’s T-shirt off over his head.

  “On what grounds? That we may have failed to mention the security cameras we installed to keep an eye on the house?”

  “I said No Parties While We’re Away!”

  “That’s not a party, hon. That’s one guy.”

  Stacia rubbed her breasts against the boy’s bare chest and bit his lip, drawing it out.

  “They look like they’re partying to me!”

  “Well…” My husband shrugged. “We’re paying her to be a house sitter—not a nun.”

  Once more I glanced sharply at him, wrinkling my nose. “They’re doing it in our living room!”

  “So you want to bill her for dry-cleaning the cushions, then?”

  That wasn’t actually a million miles from the truth, which embarrassed the hell out of me. Goddamn, it’s not easy being house-proud. I changed tack. “You think she’d get away with that at home?”

  “I don’t see why not. She’s not a kid anymore.”

  “Rhona wouldn’t let her bring boys home.”

  “Which,” he said reasonably, “is why she’s so happy to look after our place for the summer. Come on, Adele. Stop being so uptight; you’re not her mother.”

  On-screen, the two young things tangled tongues and squeezed flesh. My eyes were drawn back to the dance of hands. Stacia had a lush body and the boy’s fingers slid over her curves like they were trying to map her.

  I thought I’d taught her to treat our property with respect. I’d thought she could be trusted.

  “I don’t even know who he is!” I tried, my protests still screechy but diminishing in force. I could tell I wasn’t winning here. Hal had always been fatalistic about these things, even when our own kids were growing up. And he liked Stacia. She’s polite and sunny and reliable. Well, she had been until now. Right at this moment she was wriggling all over her friend, and he was tugging at the belt of her jeans.

  “I guess he’s that cute boyfriend from university she was talking about. The geologist.”

  I focused on the young man’s face, trying to recall if she’d told us his name. He was certainly cute, with rather pouty lips and floppy blond hair that—I told myself cynically—wouldn’t survive past his first real job interview. “It’s my house!” I complained. “They shouldn’t be doing that in someone else’s house!”

  “What…like we shouldn’t have done it in the Alhambra Palace?” he asked. “Or in that hotel roof-garden? Or in the Jacuzzi last night?”

  I was already pink with indignation, but his reminders made me flush deeper. We’d certainly reignited the old spark between us, on this sea cruise. We’d discovered we were still capable not just of full-on passion, but of breaking the social rules. We’d had furtive quickie sex in darkened corners, groped each other under the cover of tablecloths and even made love in public—though up to our shoulders in the waters of the Mediterranean. Set free from familiar surroundings and faces, it had turned out that boring old Adele and Hal were just a little bit naughty.

  People will lose all inhibitions if they think they’re not being watched.

  “That’s different…” I said, with no conviction at all. The reminder of our own transgressions had thrown me off-kilter.

  “You know, darling,” Hal started, but broke off abruptly as something happened on-screen. Stacia slid off her guy’s lap and the open fly of his pants was revealed to the camera. Jutting from it like the Leaning Tower of Pisa was his flushed, fully erect cock.

  That changed everything.

  “Oh my god,” squeaked I. Not in shock—more in awe. It was one of the most impressive erections I’d ever seen, on or off a screen. On that slim body it actually looked out of proportion.

  “That’s…” said Hal.

  But before either of us could react coherently, Stacia dropped facedown in the boy’s lap and took his swollen cockhead between her lips. We both stared, our eyes wide, as she sucked that monster into her mouth. For a long moment there was absolute silence in our cabin, and I don’t think either of us dared to breathe. We’d crossed a line here.

  Suddenly the room seemed too hot, my few clothes too tight. My skin felt as if it were melting.

  “We shouldn’t be watching this!” I said at last, but ruined it by bursting into nervous giggles. I looked to Hal for support, and his gray eyes met mine. “Oh god, what do we do?”

  “Have you got the mouse there?” he asked softly.

  I handed the wireless device over, relieved to surrender responsibility. But Hal surprised me. He clicked. On-screen, the camera zoomed in—right on that stranger’s crotch, and the pillar of his cock, and the hollow of Stacia’s cheeks and the bounce of her dark curls as she bobbed up and down on that beautiful, beautiful length. We’d invested in a fairly expensive security system, with a decent zoom and good definition. I could see his skin glisten with the wetness of her mouth.

  “Hal…”

  “Just checking,” he said, in his softest, darkest, I’m-going-to-fuck-you voice. Even as I tried to catch up with his meaning, his next words made the world spin around me: “I was right—she’s not as good as you.” I jumped slightly, and he added with audible relish, “You’d be able to take something that size all the way. Right down your throat.”

  Now that’s flattery.

  He backed it up by laying his hand on my thigh. I’d been in the middle of getting dressed for dinner and was only wearing panties and a silk slip. His hand felt warm on my bare skin. There was something so deliberate about that hand, that touch. It took our inadvertent transgression, and it made it intentional. And oh, the response of my body was undeniable. I felt a hot plume of excitement surge through me and I licked my lips, unable to avoid picturing exactly what he’d described: that huge cock nudging to the back of my mouth, and my throat opening to take it.

  “It’s just practice,” I said. “She’ll get b
etter at it.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. She’s quite enthusiastic, don’t you think?”

  “Uh-huh.” She certainly was—licking and slurping away there like it was the first ice-cream cone of summer. Then she hefted his scrotum out from his open pants and soon she was playing with his balls too, tickling and rolling them. I couldn’t see her boyfriend’s face, but if he wasn’t in heaven by now he must be dead from the waist down. I have to say that, judging from the girth and solidity of his cock, he seemed to be appreciating everything.

  Hal’s hand slid up my inner thigh and pressed against my mons, making me catch my breath.

  Then suddenly Stacia’s head disappeared out of camera shot, and we were left with the young man’s sprawled torso, his open legs and his erect dick, which he grabbed hastily and squeezed in compensation for those lost lips. It really was magnificent. It made his hand look small and almost girlish. I sucked my lower lip.

  Quickly Hal adjusted the zoom again, pulling out for a wider shot. We saw Stacia push her jeans and panties down to bare a round and ample bottom, then wriggle out of the garment.

  “Hal,” I said, uncertainly. “We really shouldn’t be watching this.”

  “Probably not,” he said, his voice a little hoarse.

  “I mean, it’s…sort of dirty, isn’t it?”

  In answer, he took my hand and laid it on the towel draping his lap. Beneath the thick cotton pile, his own member reared a proud head against the weight of my palm. “Dirty?” he asked, wrapping my fingers around that bulge, as Stacia stood up on the sofa. Her ass was as round as a full moon.

  “Wrong,” I whispered, rubbing my hand over the heave of his erection. I can’t resist that impetuous hardness. My own response is Pavlovian. Trying to cover up for the secret seep of moisture into my silks, I added, “Really, really wrong.”

  Shifting around to face me, Hal pushed his fingers between my thighs and, through the thin material of my lingerie, discovered my secret. “Yes,” he growled, pressing the damp cloth into me, then stroking his thumb over the jut of my clit; “Completely inexcusable.” His breath was hot on my ear. “You’re a very, very naughty girl.”

  On-screen, Stacia pushed her guy’s head back to rest on the sofa-back and straddled him, hooking one knee up on the upholstery over his shoulder.

  “Me?” I protested plaintively.

  He pressed his face to my hair, his lips soft against the whorls of my ear. “What are they doing?” he murmured. “What are you watching now?”

  “She’s…um… She’s sitting on his face. Oh… She’s getting him to lick her.”

  Still stroking me, Hal turned his head a little so that he could cast one eye on the screen and share my view. At the top of the screen: her bare ass, full and round and smooth. At the bottom of the screen: his cock pointing up like a rocket at her full moon, his hand sliding slowly up and down its thick shaft, priming for liftoff. We both watched as Stacia undulated her hips, settling herself deeper over the young man’s mouth, her bumcheeks quivering.

  “She seems to know what she’s doing,” I whispered, pushing aside the flap of towel and taking my husband’s erect cock in my own eager grasp. He was as hard today as he had been on our honeymoon, years ago.

  “Oh…yes.” I’m not sure if Hal was approving Stacia’s actions or mine.

  “And he seems to be pretty good at…that.” I was basing my judgment on the way her bumcheeks were quivering and undulating as his mouth worked at her. We could just make out the bob of his Adam’s apple in the shadow under her open thighs. “That’s good in a young guy, don’t you think?”

  “He’s…doing okay, I’d say.” Hal’s voice was gruff. “I mean, he’s certainly giving it some effort. Licking that pussy.” He pressed his fingers into my yielding flesh as if it were my pussy he was referring to. In fact I could almost imagine that it was the young man’s tongue I could feel down there. We were enjoying their bodies visually, across hundreds of miles of ocean—so why not feel their pleasure remotely too? I squeezed and stroked Hal’s cock in time with the hand working the on-screen member, imagining it was the hot velvet length of that unknown young man that I had hold of.

  “She has a beautiful ass.” My soft, polite words did justice neither to the voluptuous bottom we were ogling, nor the hot and filthy thrills coursing through my most intimate flesh. I felt as if I were melting onto Hal’s hand.

  “Uh-huh,” was all he managed to say, but I didn’t doubt his sincerity.

  “And that’s a lovely big cock.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to keep talking, except that it gave me a sense of distance. As long as I kept analyzing what happened on-screen, it felt like I wasn’t helpless. “Do you think this is their first time?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t either. She’s so confident. A cock like that…first time round…Well, I’d be nervous.”

  “Oh?”

  “That I couldn’t take it.”

  Hal had his fingers inside my panties now, gliding through my silky moisture. “You’re so wet right now, you could take anything,” he growled. “You could take that cock, easily.”

  The thought made me pant. I watched the boy’s hand on one shaft and felt the other shaft in my hand, I welcomed the press of fingers into my yielding hole, and in my head they were all one cock. “Do you think—” I started, then broke off with an “Oh! Don’t stop!”

  Stacia, abruptly, had unhitched herself from her boyfriend’s face and plumped down on his thighs again, hiding his fine equipment from view. All we could see was her back and their arms. They were both reaching off-screen.

  “What are they doing?” I asked, bereft.

  “Condom,” my husband answered.

  “Oh.” I was mollified. “Good girl.”

  “Get up, Adele.” Hal lifted the laptop from me.

  “Huh?”

  “Over there. The armchair.” He guided me across our cabin to the compact, upholstered chair. Arranging me behind it, he put the open laptop computer on the seat cushion then bent me over the back. I braced my hands as Hal pulled down my panties. Looking down, we could both see the screen.

  Stacia and friend had changed position. She was still astride his lap, but now she was facing outward, toward the camera. She wore her bra, though nothing else. Her body still hid most of his, but we could see the dark stripe of her semi-shaven mound, spread wide to engulf the pillar of his cock. As she sank upon it Hal thrust his fingers into my pussy, and I was so wet that my juices ran into his hand as he worked them inside me.

  “Oh!” I cried.

  Inch by inch Stacia impaled herself upon him. I just was beginning to suspect that her boyfriend was a lazy so-and-so—he hadn’t moved from his semi-recumbent slump since I’d first seen him—when he redeemed himself by releasing the bra-catch at Stacia’s back and letting her breasts tumble free. He threw the garment aside and grabbed himself big handfuls, pulling her back against him so that her soft torso was stretched taut.

  “Oh…yes!” said Hal, withdrawing his fingers and, replacing them with his cock, entering me with a single thrust. All the way. His cock stretched me, filling my body with that familiar, delicious ache. And as Stacia bounced up and down on her boyfriend’s lap—her boobs slapping up and down in his cupped hands, her eyes closed in ecstatic concentration—Hal fucked me hard, just the way I like it. Both of us wide-eyed, but just as focused as Stacia. Watching the couple on the screen as they unwittingly gave us our own private sex show.

  It felt like we were fucking them: that giant cock, those beautiful bodies. All that youth and passion. Through those illicit glimpses, we owned them.

  When Stacia reached down to play with her clit, I followed suit. When she started to cum, heaving and shuddering, I came too. And that set Hal off, so that he emptied himself into me with a groan of relief.

  Sweating and gasping, I would have collapsed over the chair-back, except that Hal caught me up and held me tight. “Are you okay, hon?” he whispered.


  “Yes. Yes. Oh god…that was…”

  Hal interrupted, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re such a hot little minx, Adele. That was incredible.”

  On-screen, the two lovers had stopped moving and lay in a daze. I twisted round to take my own lover’s cheek in my hand. I didn’t know whether to giggle or cry.

  “Oh Hal. Are we bad?”

  “Bad? No.” His face was flushed, his hair darkened by sweat. He kissed me. “I’d say that that was really, really good.”

  I stroked his face, exasperated. “You know what I mean.”

  He grinned. “I know we’re going to be late for the dinner sitting unless we hurry.”

  And we’d been invited to the Captain’s Table that night. “Oh hell,” I protested. “I need a shower now.” My filmy lingerie was stuck to my damp skin.

  “Yes…I need to rinse off again. Come in the shower with me.” The twinkle in his eye suggested there was a possibility we were going to miss the meal altogether. I kissed the tip of his nose.

  “You go ahead.”

  As Hal disappeared back into the bathroom, I grabbed the mouse off the bed and turned to close down the camera feed. Stacia’s boyfriend had slipped off his rubber, and was tying a knot in it. It was hard to resent them anymore, but I winced as I saw his hand hover, about to drop it on the coffee table. Then Stacia intercepted; catching a tissue from an open box, she wrapped the used condom securely and stood up to take it away.

  My heart leapt with pride.

  “Good girl,” I said, relieved.

  CHAPTER TWO

  X IS FOR EXPOSURE —

  EXHIBITIONISM

  Part of me is a sexual exhibitionist.

  —KYLIE MINOGUE

  Like salt and pepper, cream and sugar, and Harold and Maude, exhibitionism goes hand and hand with voyeurism. I expose myself constantly—in my work, I mean. (Hell, my collection of short stories is actually called Exposed.) I give myself away, tear off my clothes, pull aside my lingerie with every stroke of my fingers on my keyboard. Exhibitionism is the mirror image of voyeurism, and even if you think you might be hesitant to be the one on display, give the concept a second thought. You—adored—it doesn’t get much better than that.