by E. C. Towers
Her husband liked it two ways, doggy style and missionary; always in bed, always at night and always under the covers. She’d nearly hyperventilated once over his ridiculous under-the-covers rule, distraught at being so confined. Every time he had sex, she was too busy looking for pockets of air to breathe.
Linda never wanted to go back to who she used to be or the life she was living back then; not allowing herself to fall in love was a guarantee that she never would.
Hardie noticed that Linda was staring at him, but he couldn’t read her face. Either she was hungering for him or disgusted by him. It could go either way because her face remained neutral and cool. Hardie wished he had taken the time to take a peek at her face when he brought her to orgasm. He tried to imagine the moans of pleasure he had heard coming out of that beautiful yet indifferent face and he couldn't do it. He sat up and decided not to rush getting dressed. Hardie loved her attention, indifferent or not, she was looking at him, and that was enough to feel the delightful tingle between his legs.
“That was nice,” he said, immediately feeling like an idiot after he spoke. That was NICE? Really? It was amazing. Calling it nice was like calling Angelina Jolie attractive. But Hardie felt like he had to say something, anything to somehow cut through this weird tension. Why should he be nervous now? He was a member. His member was a member. He chuckled to himself because he was also an idiot who laughed at his own jokes, completely forgetting how crazy he must have looked to Linda, giggling out of nowhere.
Predictably, Linda looked at him strangely with amusement. Hardie stopped laughing.
“Sorry.” He bent down to pick up his pants. This party was over. He wasn’t going to ask about what to do next or how he was supposed to know when the next party was scheduled to happen. Hardie only hoped that it would happen soon and that he was invited.
“Come back,” Linda blurted out matter-of-factly.
“What?” Hardie thought she meant to go back to the bed, so he dutifully sat down.
“Give me your phone.”
Hardie was confused yet again but didn't question her. He dug into his back pocket and found his cell.
“I didn't videotape or take pictures of anything, if that's what you're concerned about.”
Linda didn't respond and simply took his phone. Hardie watched as she tapped and swiped it a few times.
A couple of minutes later, she handed him his phone back. She was so dry and business-like, especially after what they had just been doing, that he began to question if what had just happened between them was some kind of delusional episode in his head.
“You’re in. I downloaded an app on your phone. Go ahead and take a look at it.”
Hardie looked at his phone and noticed a new app on his home page, a simple red box. Hardie tapped it, but nothing happened.
“What is this?”
“When you see that app turn green, that means there's a party. You have a half hour to get here. And when you do, just tap that box, and it will bring the ramp down on my boat so you can come in,” Linda explained.
Hardie found it kind of endearing that someone as sophisticated and classy as Linda would have such a simple app that a ten-year-old could make.
“If it’s a flashing green light, then I only want you to come. The private invite is only open for fifteen minutes. If I don’t see you, then I’ll assume you’re busy. No hard feelings,” she explained.
There would be something hard all right, and it wouldn't be his feelings. There was no way he would miss that 15-minute window.
If she ever invited him.
6
Becoming Fearless
Linda watched him put on his clothes and noticed that he hadn't let go of his cell phone, even though he almost dropped it when he put on his pants. He was so cute; manly, and yet still awkward in his muscular body, as if he wasn’t entirely confident that he was good enough to have his shirt off. But Hardie was mesmerizing. Shoulders so broad, she just knew he could pick her up with one swoop and probably bench press her a couple of times. Arms that were solid and thick, connected to strong hands that would probably put her to heaven if he ever gave her a massage.
Hardie gave her a quick nod and looked down on the floor as he walked out of her room. It would be tough not to green light him tonight. She wanted him to come back, take off those pants, that shirt and have those big calloused hands rub all over her body. This is why he was a dangerous addition to her life right now. She felt like if she couldn’t control this stream of inappropriate thoughts about Hardie without eventually giving in to him.
Linda hadn’t always this open about sex. In fact, she was downright conservative in her past relationships, only because she didn’t know any better. Her first time was with her first boyfriend, Ben – who was a football player (even then she had a preference for athletic builds). Ben was a little taller and slimmer than Hardie, but they shared the broad shoulders and strong hands. The first time she did it with Ben, she was so intent on not getting pregnant that her preparations sucked all the sexiness out of it for her. She had gone to Planned Parenthood alone and got birth control pills, bags of condoms, and pamphlets about spermicide. Her first time utilized all three items, ready to gun down any sperm that passed any of the barriers.
Unfortunately, as soon as she began to enjoy it, Ben had come and gone; she barely had time to take down her panties before she was pulling them up again. Ben was sweet, but there’s no way to explore sexual fantasies and kinks when the show only lasts for five minutes. She broke up with Ben before leaving to study in Mexico in her junior year of college. There, Linda got into a toxic relationship with a guy named Derek, and it was an experience that taught her everything about who she really was, though it took forever for her to understand what she really learned.
The first change of character surfaced one afternoon when she opened her bedroom door and found her roommate’s boyfriend, John, was sitting in at the computer desk looking at her Facebook page, which she had unfortunately forgotten to log off from. He was pleasuring himself to a picture of her in a yellow bikini that she’d posted from a birthday trip to Maui.
He jumped back when he finally noticed her standing by the door and stopped. John stared at her intently, penis still standing at attention and asked her to close the door and lock it.
Before she knew it, Linda did the unthinkable. She stayed in the room, closed the door and locked it behind her. John continued to stare at her, rubbing his cock slowly. Linda froze, staring at the sexiest spectacle she had ever seen. This was wrong. This was her roommate’s boyfriend! What the hell are you doing?
She screamed at herself on the inside but continued to watch him, completely riveted and beginning to get damp in between her legs.
“Wait. Where’s Jolene..?” she whispered.
“She’s at her mom’s for the weekend. I came in to borrow her history book, and I saw... well, you know what I saw. I always thought you were so amazing.”
He was still pulling at his cock as he talked to her, sounding breathless and urgent. John let her watch him as his strokes became faster and faster. It seemed as if he was going to go on forever until his muscles tensed because he neared climax.
John slowed down and asked her to spread her legs. She was wearing a skirt at the time, and later she had found that one of John’s biggest fetishes was seeing under girl’s skirts. Just a peek of white or pink cotton, silk or lace under a skirt nearly sent him over the edge. He got on his knees to peek between her legs, stroking himself harder and faster until he finally came unashamedly on the rug beneath him. That was the beginning of Linda’s love of voyeurism. After that incident, John had somehow convinced her roommate that it would be hot if Linda watched them have sex.
While John plowed her roommate’s ass with his greedy cock, he watched Linda intently as she played with herself. Watching him, watching other couples, watching guys masturbate, watching girls play with themselves, nothing turned her on more than watching other people get
turned on. She and John were never a couple, but they shared this similar interest, and they often went out in search for their fix at different parties and gatherings. But after she graduated college, and John and her went their separate ways, her voyeuristic fun came to an end. Linda got her marketing degree, scored a six-figure position at a well-known marketing firm and began to hob knob with the rich and famous. That’s when she met her husband, David, at a company function in Aspen. He was accompanying his girlfriend on a family ski trip, and she was a friend of someone that Linda worked with at the time. They were invited to one of their parties, and like the prince she had been waiting for, there was David. He looked dapper in his tailored suit, looking professional, friendly and working the room like no one’s business. His confidence and charm were intoxicating, and their chemistry was nearly palpable when David was introduced to her. There was immediate electricity between them, and later that evening, they ended up making a passionate display in the bathroom.
But, in retrospect, that was the last exciting sexual encounter they had before their first-night affair progressed into a relationship, and then marriage, a very public and very politically correct marriage. Linda was capable of supporting a traditional relationship for the eye of the public, and the sake of David’s success. However, when she briefly mentioned her voyeuristic fantasies to him after having a few too many glasses of wine one night, she was no prepared to witness how clearly uncomfortable with the idea he was. If she had ever understood this obvious trait of his before that night, Linda probably would have never married him.
After his death, she truly came to understand that she was a voyeur, understand it in a way that her girl’s mind was incapable of realizing. The act of watching others was what turned her on, and her sexual needs were not a sickness. It’s what she enjoyed most, and now that she was single and free, she made no hesitation to indulge her fantasy as much as she liked. There was no way she would fall in love with a guy and give up this lifestyle she had always dreamed of living.
Still, despite all the reasons she told herself, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the thought of not having sex with Hardie.
7
An Idea
The clock on his microwave read 3:17 a.m. as he stuck a late night Hot Pocket in it.
What a weird fucking night. His dick twitched a little as he recalled his first Penthouse Forum moment. He had just fucked two girls and shot his load on the town mayor’s widow. That was the start of a fantastic porno, except he wasn’t watching it on his computer; he was actually on stage, performing a live show. He ate his Hot Pocket and stared at the application on his phone. He couldn’t believe he was a member. His goal of getting on the boat and meeting Linda was accomplished surprisingly quick, but he had a feeling that getting her into bed was going to take a lot longer. But he fully expected to reach his goal of getting in between those long, toned legs.
Hardie had a sudden attack of anxiety. What if he fell asleep and she wanted him? What if he forgot to take his phone with him when he went to work? What if he took it to work and the flashing green light came on while he busy? Although, Hardie reminded himself that it was highly unlikely that he would ever get a flashing green light, there was still a small ray of hope that it was just a matter of time before Linda would flash the green light just for him. He thought he saw the hunger in her eyes that matched the hunger he possessed for her. Eventually, it would be too much for both of them. Something was bound to happen. It was just a matter of when and how.
He imagined what her body would feel like against him. How her breasts would feel up against his chest. Hardie thought about cupping her firm ass in his palm and licking her smooth, porcelain neck while he ground himself against her hip. Hardie was sporting yet another massive hard-on, maddened at the thought of more sex with Linda.
Suddenly, he had an idea.
He went to the bathroom, took his shorts down and freed his stiff cock. Hardie looked at himself standing at attention in the mirror and made sure the lighting was just right. He then took his phone, clicked on the video function and pressed record. Hardie propped it up in front of him with a soap dish and a cup before he started to jerk off slowly to the camera. Hardie switched hands, going even faster and moaning, imagining Linda sitting on top of him. He grunted and convulsed as he climaxed, staring into the camera the entire time his juice released, before eventually turning it off and collapsing into bed.
8
A Command Performance
Linda sat down at her usual table in Edges located in the corner, next to the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the town and the Pacific Ocean. It was the perfect seat for her. Isolated, private and afforded the perfect vantage of her village. Word was sent to the kitchen that she had arrived and that it was time to step it up a notch. The food had to be prepared just to her liking, the water had to be just the right temperature, and the waiters had to provide top-notch service while simultaneously remaining invisible. Linda had never demanded it to be this way, but with the amount of influence and money that she had, others felt it went without being said.
She sat there and tried not to think of Hardie working in the back, washing dishes in a too-small white shirt that was probably damp and clinging to his wide, solid chest.
“I’m sure you can’t help but agree, isn’t that correct Mrs. St. John?”
“I’m sorry...?” she blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to erase the enticing visual of a wet Hardie. She caught up with the conversations of the guests at her table and engaged in the usual small talk of weather, politics and business. Always with the business. No matter if the conversation was about insects in Africa or the number of stars, somehow, some way, in two sentences the discussion would be brought back to the business of making more money. Linda wondered if any of these greedy old fucks that her husband used to work with had any of their wrinkly dicks sucked off in the past year. She was pretty sure their young, 20-some-year-old trophy wives were at home right now, bouncing on the pool boy’s cock like it was a trampoline.
She did get a little kick at how easy they all were. They proudly boasted of being able to wheel and deal; however, all Linda had to do was show a little cleavage and give them a suggestive stare to get them to agree to whatever she wanted. These miserable idiots were hard up and pathetic in Linda’s eyes; absolutely nothing like Hardie.
Damn it. She just couldn’t get him out of her mind. And just as she was getting ready to excuse herself to the restroom, she saw him standing in front of her. At first glance, he looked like just another waiter delivering her a fresh glass of water, but upon closer inspection, she saw that he wasn’t wearing a white button-up like the other waiters; he just had on a regular white shirt. Hardie placed the glass of water in front of her, and then stared at her with those penetrating eyes for what seemed forever. She then watched him finally walk back to the back of the restaurant, and obsessive thoughts about how tight and tense his ass must look as he thrust his massive stick into her filled her mind. Linda shook her head to snap herself out of it. Her thoughts about him were bordering on vulgar.
After Hardie was out of view, she looked at the fresh napkin he dropped under her water glass and saw an email address and a password scrawled at the very edge. It became clear that this was an email just for her. She could barely remain in her seat long enough before she cut off their waiter with a curt, “No, thank you,” to being asked if she was interested in hearing about dessert. Linda cut the meeting off short with her business partners, paid the bill and had her driver take her back to her boat.
When she finally got home, Linda threw her purse on the floor and ran to a laptop that she had conveniently left near her bed. She logged on and found an unread email in her inbox with the subject title: For You.
Linda felt lightheaded as her heart beat furiously in her chest. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this excited. When she opened the email, there was a short note that simply stated. “Please watch the video
attached. If you want to see more, click here.”
A video? She had a feeling that she already knew what this video was of, and when she opened it, her suspicions were confirmed. It was Hardie performing for her.
She watched intensely as he played with himself. Every time he looked at the camera, his eyes were so focused that he bored a hole right through her. Linda knew he was thinking of her as he came greedily. Linda had to watch the video again, but this time, she pleasured herself to the image, closing her eyes as he moaned, imagining him on top of her.
After she had composed herself, Linda looked at the email again.
“If you want to see more, click here.”
Intrigued, Linda clicked on the link and thought it was another video. Upon closer inspection, she corrected herself. It wasn’t a video at all; it was a camera looking into a bedroom. She knew instantly that this was a live stream into Hardie’s room. She recognized the shirt he was wearing from the night before draped over a chair in the corner. Hardie had given her access to his room so that she could have front row seat… the only seat… to his private show. Her jaw dropped. Hardie wanted her to watch him live. Was he still auditioning? Didn't Hardie know that he was in? Then Linda suddenly realized that, yes, he was still auditioning, but he was now auditioning to see the flashing green light she’s warned him of, and it seemed like he knew exactly how to get it. Linda tried to clear her head of the filthy thoughts that had suddenly filled her mind about Hardie for the umpteenth time that day. She laid down on the bed and wondered how she was going to be able to resist him.
She clicked the link again as she got into bed and accessed the live stream. It must have taken half an hour for the show to start, and the minutes she waited only served to tighten the muscles in her shoulders. But when Hardie finally walked into the room, he looked directly into the camera. She didn’t think he knew if she was watching or not.