Behind Closed Doors (Bisexual Menage Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Romance Suspense): All Four Books Bundled Value Priced!

by Mia Moore

  I lift a cracked blue teapot from the box and hold it in my hand for a few moments before putting it on the table. This was hers and her mother’s before her. ‘Remember Tara, a woman’s like a teabag. The hotter the water, the stronger the tea.’ Well Mom, sometimes the water is just too damned hot and the teapot cracks. All her encouragement, pushing me into modeling had paid off for a short time—until the water got too hot.

  What’s got into me, that I’m so maudlin? At least I’m alive and have enough sense to do something else. My first book is starting to catch on with sales and I’ve even got a few fan emails. The next one will be better.

  I’ve had enough un-packing for one day. The rest can wait until tomorrow, the supposed day of rest. I kick two moving boxes aside to free a path out and into the living room. It’s bright and airy but suddenly it’s like ants are skittering up my spine. The window curtains are pulled back and there’s no one out there watching me, but still…I run my hands over my arms as I move to close them.

  I know I’m being paranoid. The man who carved my face is in prison and the only people who know where I live are Antonio and my lawyer Greg. Even so, when I reach the bedroom, I look out the window, checking up and down the iron slats of the fire escape. See? Nothing.

  I slip out of the jeans and sweater and reach for my housecoat hanging on the back of the door. No. This is my place and I can walk around naked if I choose--my place. I’ll damned well do anything I please, thank you very much. If I hear people fucking and it makes me horny, it’s my business. Hell! I may never put clothes on again.

  My head is high when I walk to the bathroom, almost like when I was modeling. I start the water running into the bath tub and pour scented oil into the mix. When I stand up, the movement reflects in the mirror and I look. Tears form in my eyes and my chin quivers as I stare at myself.

  God damn that asshole, fucking my life up! I grab the wooden bath brush and beat the mirror, again and again. Glass shards fall onto the vanity and the floor and what’s left is a blank, white backdrop. One, deep breath in. One, deep breath out. Two, deep breath in. Fuck it. I push the glass away with the bathmat, being careful not to cut my foot.

  I’ll get the Super to put shelves up to replace the mirror. Wonder if he has any mirrors in his place…this might start a trend. I step into the hot sudsy water and sink down. The water covers my face, so hot it takes my breath away. ‘The hotter the water, the stronger the tea.’

  Chapter 10

  Outside, the rain pours down, streaking rivers of water on my window as I sip my second cup of coffee. Given that it’s Monday, the traditional day of resolutions, I had intended to go grocery shopping and explore the neighborhood. I’m torn. There’s the plus side of rain, carrying an umbrella, walking head down and hunched to avoid the wet and the stares of people on the sidewalk, but there’s also this warm comfy bed. Decisions, decisions.

  I sip the sweet coffee, heavily laced with cream and sugar now that I no longer have to worry about my figure and sigh. A noise above me makes me pause- a woman’s voice and the slamming of a door? I thought the Super said a professional couple lived upstairs. Shouldn’t they be at work right now?

  I wander into the bathroom wearing my new attire—naked and free, a fashion line from Mother Nature—and squat on the toilet. Aha! The voice upstairs is louder now. Oh my…sounds like she’s having a good time. When I finish, I stand on the edge of the tub, holding the rod of the shower curtain and cock my ear to the ceiling.

  “Yeah, fuck me with your hand. Oh God, you’re good at this. Your mouth sucking me.” Holy shit, she’s getting eaten out in the bathroom? A hot thrill of pleasure shoots straight to my clit as I listen to her moans. I hold my breath and the decision is made. No supermarket for a while at least. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.

  Her moan is now a guttural scream. Whoever is licking her pussy must know what he or she’s doing. My hand moves between my legs, finger sliding through the furrow to my slippery opening, and back to my clit--soft wet strokes, like a tongue rolling over the sensitive nub. Oh yes…I spread my legs wider and back to my opening, fingers pushing into my cunt.

  There’s a tap on the floor above me, her voice, the word bedroom and footsteps that fade. I step down from my perch and follow the sound, like a horny bloodhound, and end up in my bedroom.

  There’s movement for a minute or two above me and then, “My oh my. It’s bigger than I would have thought. And believe me, I’ve thought about it. Tell me what you want me to do. Talk dirty. I like it when guys treat me like a slut.”

  I climb onto the bed and lay down. So, she’s getting nailed by a guy and it sure isn’t her husband. I spread my legs and start the game. Okay, I cheated a bit in the bathroom, fingering myself, but now I’m serious…and horny as hell.

  “Suck it.”

  I exhale slowly, silent except for the blood racing in my veins. Who IS that guy? The voice is familiar. Jesus, this is a fantasy happening right over my head.

  “Suck my cock, you little cunt.” That was louder and more commanding. I reach into the drawer of my night table for Red, place my mouth on the thick shaft and suck it. My eyes are closed waiting for my next order, imagining him watching me.

  “Oh Baby, that’s good. Yeah…now lick them.” He’s pleased with me from the sound of his voice. I wish Red had balls but he’s got limitations.

  “Get on the bed. I’m gonna fuck you doggy style.” Oh sweet Jesus, his words are the dream I’ve wanted like…forever! I roll over and position Red at my pussy, resisting the urge to rub him over my clit.

  “Wait. Over here, so I can watch us in the mirror.” That was her again. Yeah, she’s probably a knock out and a little vain.

  I know he’s fucking her from the moans and slapping of flesh against flesh. My hand holds the base of Red firmly against the bed and I lift my ass, arching my pussy upward to take him in. Oh God, his thickness fills me, my cunt sliding down onto him again and again.

  “Play with your pussy. I want to see you come again.”

  I don’t need to be told twice. In a flash, my index finger is pressing my clit, sliding over the hot tip as my ass rises and falls on the cock inside me. Oh God, this is good--his voice above me, commanding me, fucking her, me…

  “I’m gonna finger fuck your ass till you scream. Spread your cheeks, bitch.”

  Reluctantly I pull my hand from my clit and place it between my ass cheeks, pressing a finger on each side, rubbing my asshole with the other two. Oh my God, the sensation is decadent. I press the fingers inside… The burning sensation above a cunt filled with cock…oh yeah.

  “Yeah Mike…fuck all of me.”

  You said it Baby! Fuck all of me. I press deeper into my ass.

  “Do you have a vibrator?” His voice is deep and husky.

  “Oh God, yeah. Hang on.” She’s eager for more than his fingers fucking her ass, and Jesus, so am I!

  “Fuck me, Mike.”

  Oh yeah, I roll up and down on my dildo, while straining to push all of my fingers in my ass. “Yeah fuck me, Mike.”

  It’s hot and I’m aching to come but I need more. I shift my ass to anchor the dildo in my cunt, one hand is now free to rub my clit. Oh God, the burning fullness in my ass, the fullness of my cunt and now the sweet thrill in my clit. Oh yeah… it’s so good, Mike.

  “FUCK…I’M COOOMMMINGGGGG!” Mike’s voice, a cry of lust.

  Fuck this is good…need to make it last. My movements slow, teasing myself, riding the edge of lust, prolonging the arousal. How long can I hold off?

  “Claire. Fuck, that was good.” His voice again. It could be my name he says. Okay, it’s not. My neighbor’s name is Claire. Mmmm, I squeeze my muscles onto the dildo amping the pleasure and back off again.

  “Oh God, yes.” Her voice again, lucky bitch. Then her mumble, too low to decipher the words. No matter. I flick my finger over my clit, again dancing on the edge of orgasm.

  “I don’t know…I’d rather keep it on. Maybe somed
ay” Mike’s voice.

  “At least take your pants off.” What? He fucked her with his pants around his knees? Oh God, I press down on the dildo picturing a guy standing with a huge fucking hard-on entering my cunt.

  “You’re beautiful, Claire.”

  I didn’t need to hear him say that but it’s cooled me down some, to make this last.

  I wish she’d speak up-- I can’t make out her reply.

  “Yeah. But let’s not talk about it, okay? Laying here with the first woman I’ve had in years, war and injustice is the last thing I want to discuss.”

  He’s a war vet? Oooo, all manly and muscled…I tighten on his cock and fuck my ass with my fingers. He likes that.

  “It’s okay. I understand. We don’t need to kiss, but I have to say, your mouth felt just fine earlier, in the bathroom.”

  You said it Claire. I heard you scream and his mouth got me started too. Oh God, to have my clit licked by a big muscle-man soldier. My fingers tease my clit, almost sending me over the edge.

  “I liked it too. I’ll fix your plumbing anytime you want.” His voice again.

  Everything stops, my hand, pelvis, everything. Holy God, it’s the SUPER up there with Claire? He’s fucking my neighbor, getting me all hot and bothered and from the sounds she was making, he’s a pretty good fuck.

  No wonder he wouldn’t kiss her being so scarred. Just like me. Well, he makes up for it with his body. She said he was huge. And he’s a bit kinky with the ass thing. Why have I never done that before today? I press my fingers deeper into my ass, flexing my kegels and sending a jolt of pleasure to my clit once more.

  Oh God, it’s Mike’s cock in me, his fingers fucking my asshole. I roll onto him, longing to please him, to be fucked harder.

  “We can do this again but next time, maybe my husband can join us?”

  “What?” It was his voice in my ears and mine in my throat.

  I stop once more and lift my head, straining to hear their conversation.

  “Well…Gerald and I are pretty liberal in our sex lives…We like to have sex with other people.”

  “I’d give my right hand for another time like this…here with you… But…well, I’m not comfortable with anyone else being here.”

  “Hmmm….that’s the thing. I usually never fuck anyone unless Gerald’s in the room. I love him and I’ll tell him all about this morning. He might be miffed but it’ll get him hot as well.”

  “Sure thing.” His voice followed by a couple of footsteps on the floor.

  “Too bad you feel the way you do. You’re a nice guy and a threesome would be really hot. If you ever change your mind, you know where we are.”

  “And if YOUR tap ever needs fixing, you know where I am. Actually, I’ll put a new washer on the faucet later today when you’re gone.”

  Footsteps above fading away before, her voice, “Thanks. See you later, Mike.”

  Oh my God! She’s a swinger and trying to get the Super to join them? This is unbelievable. I’m SO glad I didn’t go grocery shopping. What kind of building is this? A Super who’s hung like a horse, fucking tenants who are swingers, not to mention anything about the one downstairs—the screamer! I’ve hit the jackpot! Not only lots of action, which always makes me hot, but fodder for my book!

  Maybe I’ll get the super to install some shelves in the bathroom. We’d end up right here and it would be his cock for real and Red may find a new home—in my ass. I lower my head and close my eyes, picturing a guy’s (Mike’s?) bare thighs, the hollow in the side of his ass when he drives his cock into me.

  The dildo slips out and the hand finger-fucking my ass shoots around and under to hold it still. I bear down on it…him…his big juicy cock….Oh God, yes!

  I hump myself onto him. He allows me to let go…”Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…big fucking cock in my cunt, fuck my the ass” I scream into the bedspread as sweet, incredible bliss flies from my cunt to my fingertips in waves of lust.

  My heart almost jumps from my chest, and my cunt aches from the assault. I smile as I lay there, relishing the burn in my asshole, a new experience, but not my last one.

  Breathe, now under control, I go into the bathroom and wash my hands. When I return to the bedroom I grab my laptop from the night table. I should be writing but there’s a little item that I need to add to my drawer, company for Red, or maybe a replacement.

  I type in the search bar and wait. There’s a whole world of on-line sex shopping for me. The hard part is what color? I know the size to fill both my hot spots. Maybe blue this time.

  Chapter 11

  I manage to immerse myself in the new novel and hours fly by like seconds. Five thousand words written, inspired no doubt by the delightful morning. I need some fresh air and food. The rain has stopped and it’s almost dark. I can’t put this off any longer.

  I rifle through my dresser for some jean and a sweater and slip them on. It doesn’t matter what I pick, no one will ever see them under the trench coat. The scarf and coat is my disguise, a staple in my wardrobe. I’ve come a long way from the clothes horse, I once was.

  I slip out the door and take a deep breath as I lock it after me. If I’m lucky, everyone coming home from work will already be in their apartments; it’s late enough for that. I glance at the door of the apartment across from me before heading to the stairs. What did he say her name was? Some foreign name and she works from home. Maybe she’s a writer like me.

  My footsteps are silent, padding down the stairs in sneakers, glancing up as I round each corner to see if anyone is there. The Super…I guess I should start referring to him as Mike, especially after this morning…My face becomes hot and now I wish I’d taken the elevator. He told me he always takes the stairs. What if I run into him?

  One, deep breath in. One, deep breath out. Okay Dr. Anderson I’m following orders.

  He’s probably in his apartment having dinner right now. No need to worry about running into him.

  Two, deep breath in. I open the door and step into the lobby. “Thank God.” No one’s around. Two, deep breath out. I step onto the sidewalk. The air is heavy with humidity and cold on my forehead walking up the street. Maybe I should have searched online for a store nearby that delivers. Yeah, yeah, I know Dr. Anderson said I need to get out more often, come to terms with my new reality. But it’s hard.

  At the sound of footsteps approaching I glance up--an elderly couple walking their dog. It’s a conditioned reflex, adjusting the scarf to cover the lower part of my face, holding the ends tight on my shoulder. I hurry by them, hearing him murmur and her musical laugh at whatever he said. If they were teenagers, I’d be angry, but older people don’t usually make fun of other people.

  At the end of the street, I stop, scanning both ways in search of a supermarket or even a bodega. Red and yellow lights flash above a glass wall adorned with fruit and vegetable posters. The lights are a beacon of rescue only halfway down the block on the left-- just the ticket and not even that far.

  A hand reaches toward me, dirty fingernails scraping across my forearm. I jump away and look up into a whiskered, lined, face, a panhandler in a tattered green jacket, standing with a hat between his feet. I pull my purse up and open it, taking out the first bill that my fingers touch, a five and bend to toss it in the hat.

  “Thank you Ma’am. Bless you, Ma’am.” He nods repeatedly looking down at my chest.

  “You’re welcome.” I call over my shoulder.

  ‘There but for the grace of God, go I.’ It’s Dad’s voice in my head and I’m a young girl holding his hand going out for milk one summer evening long ago. I hold my head higher, seeing the lights of apartments and office building around me for the first time tonight.

  When I enter the store, a cashier, a teenage girl smiles and says hi. There’s no sharp intake of breath, or quick look away, just friendliness. I smile and pick up a basket, meeting her eyes. The store is not as big as the ones where I used to shop, more a Mom and Pop type operation, but the cleanliness i
s second to none.

  The teenager chats and laughs with a customer, a guy in some sort of dark uniform as I head down the aisle. I never thought I’d end up in a working class neighborhood when I first came to the Big Apple. Back then, the future was looking so bright I had to wear shades, to quote the old song. But it feels good, like being home. Maybe the doc was right. I need to get out more often.

  I fill the basket and stride to the checkout at the same time as a woman with a high, tight pony tail, hair hanging almost to the waist of her black leather jacket. Our arms bump and she steps in front of me. When she turns her head, dark heavily made up eyes dismiss me and scan the store behind her. Her jaw muscle and lips are tight as breath hisses from white nostrils stretched outward. She must have sensed me watching her because now she looks at me and it’s an examination. One side of her lips curl up, and she turns to the woman beside her, placing her hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder and fingers the blond curls that rest there.

  Okay, it’s the local lesbo couple doing their shopping. What was with the look? She needn’t worry that I’m competition for the blond. I’ll probably never see them again and I’m straight…sort of. You can’t really count Elaine. That had only lasted for a month when I was modeling. Back then, all kinds of people hit on me. It was natural that a small town girl would be curious and exploring sex. Shit! I’m still exploring, even if it’s from the confines of my apartment.

  The cashier finishes ringing them through and flashes a smile, already reaching for the carton of milk to pull it through the scan. I hesitate, waiting for the taller of the women ahead to bag their items. She shushes the blond aside, taking charge with a grim look. The blonde must be used to it from the smile and flip of her hair, shrugging it off.

  I turn to the teenager, noting the splash of freckles across her nose and the smile in her eyes. She’s a pretty girl, probably the owner’s kid. “Would you mind calling a cab for me? 578 Charles. I know it’s only a couple of blocks but there’re too many bags to carry.”