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213 High Street: Peep Show
ISBN #978-1-906811-57-0
©Copyright Christy Lockhart 2009
Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright March 2009
Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
213 HIGH STREET: PEEP SHOW
Christy Lockhart
Dedication
For Cathy—Hey! You started this! Thanks for the friendship.
Like a fine wine, it keeps getting better with time! Love ya!
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:
Cadbury's: Cadbury Limited
Chapter One
It was a naughty thought wasn’t it? Sophie shouldn’t even consider masturbating in the back room of the shoppe. She should wait until she got home. There, in her small house, she could take a bath, light some candles, and have a nice glass of chardonnay as she pinned up her hair and slipped into her favourite fantasy.
She could. But why would she?
That would just prolong the inevitable.
The postman had brought a new toy. And Sophie was duty-bound to try it out and see if it actually worked. No sense selling something that might disappoint the public. She’d learned that lesson. Returns and dissatisfaction were a nightmare.
Well, that was just the excuse.
To tell the truth, Sophie couldn’t wait to see if The Clit Rocket actually worked. According to the sales literature she’d received from the manufacturer’s rep, the handy little device promised to deliver an orgasm that would propel her to ‘stratospheric levels of pleasure.’ Could it be? Could The Clit Rocket possibly be the holy grail of orgasmic pleasure? Well, for the sake of 213 High Street’s demanding and discerning clientele, she was always willing to find out.
She grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced through the tape sealing the cardboard box. Then she pulled out the packing material and tossed them in the general direction of the rubbish can. Her youngest sister, Gracie, was the neat one. She’d sigh, but she’d clean up the mess. No sense getting a dog only to bark yourself, Sophie always told Gracie and Katie.
That’s why things worked so well at 213. Gracie could organise a party for a thousand people in three point two hours. Sophie, as the middle child was adventurous and had never once coloured inside the lines. Katie, the oldest of the three, was management material through and through, or so her fancy university degree said. Even if it didn’t, Katie would be sure to tell them all, daily. Sophie just figured that Katie liked to boss people around.
After tossing the rest of the paper on the floor, Sophie pulled out a smaller box and opened that, too.
The packaging inside was red hot. Fireworks, in vibrant, shimmering silver exploded all over the exquisitely designed top. She opened the fire engine coloured box to reveal an innocent-enough looking toy. The vibrator part was red and shaped like a bullet. The device was cordless, which would add to the cost significantly, but for the perfect climax, the women of Widby were willing to pay nearly anything.
A remote control was nestled in a satin pouch. The manufacturer, bless them, had thoughtfully provided a battery.
After figuring out the intricacies of taking apart the remote device and inserting the flat, lithium disk, Sophie considered the variety of silicone sleeves that slipped over the bullet. The first surprise, actually protruded a bit, and was shaped like a mushroom. Probably as close to a realistic firework as they could get. It didn’t escape her notice that it also looked more than just a bit like the tip of a man’s cock.
Another sleeve had bubble-like dots. ‘For ignitable pleasure,’ according to the printed insert. The third had ripples, or ‘Blast off Ridges’ as they were called.
The marketing materials were perhaps over the top, but if she could sell the Clit Rocket, so what? Adult sex toys weren’t necessarily known for their sophistication, although the marriage of style and sensuality was definitely one that appealed to her.
She sprayed the bullet with antibacterial cleaner and selected the firework sleeve. She’d start with the explosion of sensation and go from there.
While the spray went to work cleaning the silicone, she looked at the directions. Wow and a nice big bowl of ice cream. The remote could be set to pulse. Over a period of several minutes, the intensity would automatically increase.
If the toy actually worked, she may never need another man.
She rinsed the bullet and sleeve under running water, then took a quick trip through the shop’s front room. Lights were off. The closed sign was flipped the proper direction, the cash register till had been emptied. She grabbed a tube of lube especially designed for use with toys and returned to the back.
Feeling deliciously naughty, Sophie kicked off the high heeled shoes she always favoured and then unzipped her jeans. Wriggling, she shimmied the denim over her hips and down her thighs. And then she kicked aside the jeans.
Wanting some atmosphere, she turned on the radio and found her favourite satellite station. Fun, funky, staccato techno stuff. The music was nothing she’d listen to when the store was open, but the beat was perfect when she was in search of a pulse-pounding orgasm, or, even better, a rocket propelled one.
After pulling down her knickers, she used her toes to launch them towards her jeans.
Getting into the spirit of things, Sophie cranked up the radio’s volume, slid the sleeve into place, checked that everything was in working order—that could never be overstated, as she’d tell her customers—and then uncapped the lube, squeezing a generous amount onto the tips of her fingers.
She bent her knees slightly, then massaged the thick cream onto her clit.
It’d been at least a week since she’d played with herself. From time to time, she’d deprive herself of sexual release. She did that just to make the next time even more sensational. Absence made the…climax more powerful. Or something like that.
She made sure she was good and moist, dipping into her vagina and parting her labia, slipping, sliding.
Already close to orgasm, Sophie forced herself to stop putting pressure against her clit. Waiting was such a sweet torment.
Feeling the techno beat, seduced by the response of her own body, she placed the silicone firework against her clit. She thumbed on the remote and felt the first, light pulse against her clit. It was…nice. The second pulse was just as pleasant. Nice, but not spectacular.
The third felt a little more intense.
The
fourth was close to fabulous.
Well, then.
She’d never had a vibrator that behaved in quite this way. Being the most athletic of the three sisters, she usually did everything at mach speed. She had two speeds, or so her last boyfriend said: fast and asleep. So what? It was hardly her fault if he couldn’t keep up.
Little hammering sensations snaked through her body.
Closing her eyes, she parted her labia further, wanting increased pressure. The vibrator was maddening. She’d take a little more, thank you.
Still, she didn’t switch the control to fast. This was different. Different was good.
She bent her knees a little more and rocked forward onto the balls of her feet, reaching, searching, wanting…
Of its own volition, the vibrator doled out another couple of beats.
Music pounded.
Her blood raced.
Just a little more… Just a little… More. She wanted more.
She gnawed on her lower lip, feeling the tendrils of a climax beginning to unfurl. Oh. Oh. Yes.
That was… Almost…
“What the hell?”
She froze. Her heart skidded to a complete stop, then it leaped into her throat. Her eyes opened instantly. A bright, very bright, light shined in her eyes.
Sophie blinked repeatedly, but she couldn’t see anything at all.
The music was abruptly silenced. An echo seemed to fill the room.
“Sophie?”
She knew that deep, rich, intimidating voice. And that wasn’t a good thing at all. Ryan Kelley. Officer Ryan Kelley. Having the local law enforcement officer catch you half naked couldn’t possibly be good. Hell and damnation.
How was she supposed to deal with this? Half naked, on the verge of a very nice climax, blinking owlishly in the presence of the law. Oh, yes, with her labia spread. “Uhmm…the flashlight. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
Well, that wasn’t one of her more brilliant suggestions. Ryan didn’t turn off the flashlight like she hoped; he simply directed its beam a bit lower. And standing here, in the almost altogether, while the bobby shined a light at your dripping pussy was a bit disconcerting.
Just then the vibrator gave out a powerful pulse. “Oh!” Her knees buckled.
“Ah…? I asked what the hell is going on here.”
He did? “You did?” Think. She needed to think. “I was doing research.” That was it.
“Research?”
He raised his oh-so-sexy, serious, intimidating eyebrows. Her heart was thundering. How much trouble was she in? Was he going to issue a citation? Oh, Lord, she’d hate to have to go to court to explain all this.
She pulled the Rocket away from her body before it ignited a booster and she behaved like an even bigger hussy in front of him.
“What kind of research?”
She’d brazen it out. That’s what she’d do. “Until you showed up, I was about T-minus 30 seconds from an orgasm.” She straightened her knees and stood up tall. Not that it helped. She barely came up to his shoulder.
“This little device,” she said, extending her palm to show him the bullet, “supposedly gives off the most powerful orgasm of your entire life.” She hoped he’d shine the light on her hand, getting a better look at the toy. No such luck. He kept the beam directed at her crotch.
“And does it deliver?”
“Who knows?” She resisted the impulse to cover herself. Not that a fig leaf would be bad right about now. “You interrupted the scientific experiment.”
“A scientific experiment, is it?”
Finally showing mercy, he flicked the flashlight’s beam onto the toy. It had moisture glistening on it. Fabulous. Just fabulous.
“And the experiment was successful?”
“It was.”
He brought the light to her face, and she could see him better, as well. His hair was dark as a moonless midnight sky. His eyes, though, were a piercing, electric blue. He had tiny lines around his eyes from his quick smile. But there was no smile right now. In fact, his mouth was set in a firm line. She couldn’t get a read on him. Trying to change the subject, she asked, “How did you get in here, Officer Kelley?”
“I was on a routine patrol. Music coming from in here at this time of night is a bit unusual.”
“So you used your key?” For safety reasons, the local police and fire department had keys to every business along Widby’s main road. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
“No. Wasn’t any need. The door was unlocked.”
Her shoulders sagged. “I checked…” She had checked to see that the closed sign was flipped in the right direction. She’d made sure the lights were out and the till was standing empty. She’d looked at everything but the lock. Good going, Sophie. Her sisters would never let her live this down. Not that they should, mind you.
“I wasn’t quite sure what I’d find,” the bobby said. “A robber looking for money, maybe. Or some hooligans causing trouble. Maybe a retired woman who was too shy to buy her…” He seemed to search for the right words. “Personal items from you during the day. But I didn’t expect to find the proprietress in a state of dishabille.”
Half naked, in other words. With her legs spread, her clit a tight bud of demand and juices still wet on the inside of her thighs. She wondered if he could smell the sharp scent of her arousal.
“Well, as you’ve seen, everything seems to be in order,” she said. “It’s comforting to know that the local authorities have everything under control. I’ll sleep well tonight.” She smiled, a tight, fake curve of her lips. In fact, she just wanted him out of here. She wanted to get back to her masturbation. The bullet continued to emit little pulses in her hand, and the sight of Ryan, watching her so intently, made her even hornier.
When he made no move towards the front door, she said, “I will make sure to lock up after you.”
“There are decency laws in Widby, Ms. Albin.”
She gasped in outrage. “This is private property.”
“This is a business,” he corrected, “with its door unlocked.”
“After closing time.”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“What are you saying, Office Kelley? Are you threatening to bust me for lewd conduct? Or maybe indecent exposure?”
“More like decent exposure.” He flicked the light’s beam back to her pussy. “There’s always disturbing the peace,” he said.
“With the music?”
“Wasn’t talking about the music.”
“Then…?”
“Disturbing my peace.”
Oh my heavens. Had his voice deepened another octave?
“You’ve got me curious.”
She folded her arms across her chest, painfully aware of her vulnerability. She was naked from the waist down while he was very much an official-looking employee of the Crown.
Despite the dimness, the brim of his official hat reflected light. A dark tie lay against a crisp, white cotton shirt. His trousers were tailored. And this bobby, unlike some in town who had allowed an easy life to go to their waistline, was still trim and athletic.
She wished she hadn’t wanted his body for ten years, ever since he’d moved back to town. He’d gone to the big city for training and he’d returned muscular and strong. This bobby had fuelled more than one late night fantasy.
If this man didn’t inspire dreams of handcuffs and bondage, she didn’t know one who could. “Curious?” she asked, repeating his word. Was that really her voice that sounded so squeaky?
“About your scientific experiment. Were you really less than thirty seconds away from a powerful orgasm?”
“I guess I’ll never know.”
“How does the personal item work?”
Rather than die of embarrassment, which was a distinct possibility at this point in time, she went into teaching mode. Unfolding her arms, she again showed him the bullet. “It’s called The Clit Rocket.”
He didn’t say a word.<
br />
“It’s a pricy little gadget, but if it does what it says it will, we surely won’t be able to keep them in stock. It has a remote control device with several different settings. Pulse is one,” she said.
“That’s the one you were using.”
“Yes. And the device also has a sliding bar that increases the speed and vibration.”
“Where is it?”
She pointed at the box. Directing the flashlight’s beam where she’d indicated, he reached for the control.
“You’d use the different settings with different silicone sleeves. For example, as you pointed out, the pulse with the firecracker shaped attachment.”
He tried the various settings, and she felt the bullet in her palm, pulsing, then giving little shakes, then a powerful and loud vibration.
Then he turned it off entirely.
“Are you still wet, Ms. Albin?”
Her bottom jaw nearly dislocated. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your cunt,” he said. “Is it still wet?”
Chapter Two
“You were less than thirty seconds from a climax earlier,” he reminded her.
“Is that going to be part of your citation?”
“If you cooperate with law enforcement, there won’t be a citation. I’ll take good behaviour into account.” He leaned in a bit closer.
Sophie inhaled his sexiness. His scent was an intoxicating blend of sex and power and spice and man, capped off with the crispness of an autumn evening.
“Now,” he repeated, “is your pussy wet?”
She absolutely couldn’t believe this. Officer Ryan Kelley was standing in her back room, holding The Clit Rocket’s remote control, looking at her nude nether region.
Without waiting for her answer, he stroked his powerful fingers up the inside of her right thigh.
She was losing it, becoming putty. For the first time, she truly understood what sensory overload was.
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