Voyeur

Just a fun short story while I work on other things. Enjoy.

******

"See you tomorrow!" Rachel cheerfully called to her co-workers. She worked with a small team of four, managing a small stationary supplies store. It was a surprisingly lucrative business that involved little client contact beyond email and the odd phone call.

This suited Rachel perfectly. Abysmally shy, she had endured her fair share of confronting customer service moments in retail as a teen. Now in her mid 20's, she couldn't imagine having a more fulfilling job.

Rachel's bashfulness came with an unfortunate setback - she struggled to engage with men. It was hardly unusual for her to attract attention. Though Rachel's long, wavy auburn hair and pretty face turned heads on the street, she was unapproachable. If anyone tried to chat her up, she panicked and retreated quickly enough to convince any potential boyfriend that she was training to become a nun.

This is where everyone was misled. Rachel had an unusually high sex-drive, which she slightly appeased with frequent masturbation. Her fantasies were as wild as her imagination, but none would tell from her demure smile and downcast eyes.

Stepping onto the street and breathing fresh air, Rachel smiled at the darkening sky. It was Wednesday, and she always worked a little later on Wednesdays. It was the one night that safely catered to her sexual fantasies.

The discovery was made by accident, after lingering too long in a closing shopping centre. There was a food court and gym that remained open well into the night, catering mostly for workaholics who needed a quick dinner or struggled to find time to work out in a busy week.

On the first night, she'd ducked into a fire-escape to avoid running into one of her mother's friends who talked too much and was impossible to shake off. Biding her time until it was safe to re-emerge, Rachel wandered the area, which was dusty and unused. It was then that she inadvertently discovered a sexual gold-mine and never looked back.

As was her habit these last few months, Rachel casually strolled through the quiet centre, peering through dim glass windows to see what was on offer at various closed stores. She had a bite to eat in the food court, whilst listening to a podcast about nutrition. Checking her watch, she noted the time and made her way toward the gym.

Just before reaching the gym, she turned the opposite direction, and entered the fire escape. Quietly stepping up two floors, she cautiously peeped out as she opened the door. The area was as she always found it: stale and completely deserted.

Approaching a darkened window, the kind management used to discreetly survey working staff, she let her eyes adjust to the dim light before hitching herself up onto a table. About 15 minutes passed before a particular man sauntered into view. The one she waited for. His brown hair adhered to his forehead with sweat, his cheeks flushed, and he wore a black tank top clearly soaked from his workout. Taking a long gulp of water, he tossed the bottle into his bag, and stripped down.

Rachel's breath caught in her throat. From her angle, she could see everything. He was physically delectable - tall, broad-chested and very toned, with enough muscle to show great strength, but not too bulky. Luckily for Rachel, the man always favoured the same corner shower stall. Any other, and her view would be mostly obstructed.

The open-plan changerooms were designed to be more trendy than practical, surrounded by glass with high-gap skylight ceilings. Rachel sadly reflected that inevitably someone would sight the blind-spot and her fun would be over. But for now, no one seemed concerned about the dark, unoccupied offices directly above.

By instinct and routine, Rachel's hand found its way down her skirt. Fingers stroking over her panties, she watched the man wash himself clean. Rachel's cheeks heated with excitement, and she worked harder on herself whilst intently watching him.

"Oh... yes," she breathed, wondering what his name was. She often pondered if he had a girlfriend, with the bitter knowledge that if he approached her, she'd run for the hills.

Rachel jumped as her phone went off, the light dimly illuminating her.

"Fuck!" she swore uncharacteristically, blindly fumbling to cancel the call. Why did her mother have to ring at that moment?

With dread she looked up and in her fearfully paranoid mind almost expected a SWAT team to smash through the windows. But she only saw the man serenely washing. Even so, her nerves were on end and all prospects of a good orgasm were ruined.

Rachel grumpily pulled her skirt down and hopped off the table. It wasn't fair, she didn't ask for much. Though she knew spying was wrong, it wasn't like she was taking photos to sell online. It was a secret she'd take to the grave - She would never tell her friends, or anyone. She was almost as ashamed and humiliated by her actions as the man might be if he knew. But he didn't know.

The following Wednesday, Rachel was comfortably watching the man from her hideout while her fingers rapidly moved beneath her panties. She loved how exerted he was after every session. The water streamed down his body, hypnotically tracing every muscle.

After accomplishing an intense climax and pausing to catch her breath, Rachel briefly glanced down to readjust her position so she could slip off the table without falling. Then she looked up to see the man staring up in her direction.

It was only for a surreal heartbeat. Rachel shut her eyes, opened them, and saw him calmly washing.

Shaking, Rachel squeezed her eyes shut again. Maybe he was just stretching his neck. How could he know she was there? If he had really spotted her, he'd be outraged and would probably report it and then the police would check surveillance.

They'd come knocking at her work and she'd be arrested in front of her colleagues and marched out in handcuffs, publicly exposed as a sex pest. The man would be waiting at the station to angrily identify her. Her parents, shocked and ashamed, would visit her in jail.

With a sick feeling in her stomach, Rachel cursed her vivid imagination and frantically adjusted her clothing. Grabbing her bag, she risked a last nervous glance at the man casually rummaging through his belongings, and briskly left the area.

Rachel skipped two Wednesdays, but that was all she could do. Even after the last scare, she wasn't ready to say 'goodbye' to the King of her Spank-bank, especially when she'd obviously imagined he'd seen her.

On this particular night, it seemed he was a no-show. Rachel frowned at her watch, and decided to wait another ten minutes before retreating.

Finally accepting he'd taken a night off, she was ready to walk out the door when he emerged. It was quite late, the area now completely empty. After a moment standing under the warm spray with closed eyes, he reached down his body. Rachel's jaw dropped and she almost slipped off the table.

The man placed one hand on the wall, and the other began to work between his legs. If Rachel admired him as well-endowed when he was soft, now she sat straight and leaned forward for a better look at what she considered nothing less than the best cock she'd laid eyes on.

Having never witnessed anything so erotic in her life, Rachel immediately took off her panties and began touching herself, approaching a quicker climax than she'd anticipated. She wondered what it would be like to feel his body close against her, his mouth on hers while she jerked his cock. Or, heaven forbid, take his cock in her mouth. Would it even fit?

The mental image of her lush mouth spread wide on the stranger's cock sent a delicious shiver up her spine and her climax drew closer. The man shuddered, jerking several impressive streams of cum onto the wall in front of him, and Rachel moaned and thrust against her hand at the same time, her fingers saturated.

It was a wonderful climax, a euphoric rise of events that took her hobby to a whole new level of decadence. Feeling giddy, Rachel pulled herself together and went home, wondering if she had an addiction problem.

Two weeks later, Rachel was again viewing her object of desire. Tiring of the panty barrier, she routinely discarded them, which was easily done in the blue velvet dress she wore. She'd caught on that dresses were easier to navigate her hand around when she wanted to touch herself, to a point where her colleagues began to joke that Wednesday was 'dressy day'.

Eagerly stroking herself, Rachel paused, noticing her subject seemed distracted. Roughly pulling his clothes on, he left her view. The shower was still running, and his possessions remained, which indicated he'd be back quickly.

"Where'd you go?" she wondered aloud. Figuring it was a bathroom break, she waited, pouting heavily as the seconds slowly ticked by.

An uneasy feeling grew inside her that something might be wrong, and Rachel experienced that same tingle of dread as the time she imagined he'd sighted her. Maybe he was complaining to management about a facility fault, but once again her orgasm was spoiled by nervousness.

Much too late, Rachel heard a noise that could only be the door opening behind her, and felt a new presence. Raw male energy.

Rachel bolted, not bothering to grab her bag. Before she could reach the other exit, two arms wrapped around her in a strong embrace, forcing Rachel back against a large, hard body. A clean shower scent filled her nostrils, the body pressed against her was slightly damp. A warm mouth tickled her ear.

"Gotcha."

The voice was deeply male, and very sinister. Rachel squealed with fright and writhed in his hold.

"You've been spying on me for weeks," he whispered accusingly, spinning her to face him. She stumbled back and he followed, walking forward until the wall was behind her and there was nowhere to run.

Weeks... Rachel's blood went cold. He knew.

The man smugly reached in his pocket and switched on his phone light. "Now, it's my turn to look."

"No!" Rachel begged, more frightened of exposure than violence. But they were illuminated, and she was forced to look her assailant in the face.

It as an entirely different situation, admiring him from a safe distance, with him unaware of her observation. Now, she had his full, confronting attention. He stared down at her with smouldering, intense brown eyes.

It wasn't as though he'd stalked her before pouncing. She'd been humiliatingly caught in the act, and her face burned so red she felt her long lashes might singe.

"Wow. Yum," he grinned widely, and stepped back to pull his shirt off, and drop his pants.

Rachel was unable to stop her eyes moving down his chest to the hard cock between his legs. She was right, he was endowed. Her attention was unpleasantly brought back to reality when he laughed.

"Still ogling me? You really are shameless," he purred, closing the distance between them.

"No, please!" Rachel implored, feeling as though her worst nightmare was manifesting. "I...I was lost...And...I'm-I'm so late for...I have to go-!"

"Bullshit. You're not going anywhere," he cut her off with a wicked grin.

Ben watched the girl shrink back, her eyes wide with terror, but not fear of him. After a quick assessment he realised she was ashamed for being caught doing something naughty. The idea thrilled him far, far more than if he'd walked in on an inviting slut.

"P-Please," Rachel stuttered breathlessly. "Please, it's not what you think. I wasn't... I didn't...!"

"You're a little pervert. Admit it."

Scandalized, Rachel's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red and she awkwardly tried to push him away. The heat of his bare, damp skin against her palms made her shiver. Aware he was staring, she risked an upward glance and saw his eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, no! Really!" she protested, straining against the wall behind her. "It's just...I-I can explain...!"

"Almost every Wednesday night you hide in this room and watch me shower. Why?"

"I...I...Well...I..."

"That's what I thought," he murmured, his hand snaked up the nape of her neck to tangle through her hair. His fingers tightened and forced her face up, then he kissed her.

After a while he pulled back and looked down, noting the dazed, sultry look on her face.

"That's what I thought," he repeated thickly, his breathing unsteady. "And I think you're a little over-dressed."

Ben reached down and seized the hem of her navy dress to lift it over her head. Too afraid to resist, she stood frozen and let him. Clearly liking what he saw, his eyes lingered on her red lace-bra, straight down to her little black ankle-boots. She looked like a high class escort, at her very first gig. The idea made him chuckle, until his gaze travelled back up her toned thighs. Ben momentarily forgot to breathe and his eyes widened.

"You hussy! Where the fuck are your panties?" he hoarsely exclaimed, sounding indignant.

Rapidly losing control of himself with every new discovery, it was as though she was doing everything possible to drive him crazy. Weeks ago, he'd thought nothing of the brief glimpse of light he'd noticed from his shower.

But curiosity got the better of him, and after finishing up he'd prowled the higher-level offices and discovered the window giving a direct view of his shower cubicle, the carefully cleaned table and even caught the mild scent of lingering perfume.

Purposely jerking off to shock his voyeur a couple weeks back, tonight he'd cracked and decided to playfully frighten whoever blatantly invaded his privacy week after week, and ultimately put an end to their unsavoury habit.

But this girl wasn't what he expected at all. He thought he'd surprise some weird peeper, maybe an older woman, or a cleaner. What he'd discovered was an alluring contradiction - a very attractive young woman, who looked like a virtuous librarian.

In fact, she looked a lot like what he'd fantasied about while jerking off. The idea that his fantasy-girl used the sight of him as material to pleasure herself was more obscenely tantalising than he thought possible.

After expecting a plethora of unpleasant alternatives, he could barely keep his hands off her. With a genuinely sweet voice to match her cute appearance, he wanted to hear a lot more of it. Ben was an assertive man, he had been that way since a child - and he was fucking glad he'd decided to deal with this matter personally instead of reporting it.

The urge to strip down surged through him the moment he enclosed his arms around her delicious body to stop her escaping. Now, he wanted her to see him, but this time he deserved to see how he affected her.

And then Ben's eyes adjusted enough to register the wet sheen on her inner thighs, and her glistening fingers. His playful intention immediately took a sharp detour.

"Oh, fuck!" he groaned, not believing his eyes or caring about the dusty floor as he dropped to his knees and seized her hips.

Before she could wriggle free, he jerked her forward to taste her. Kissing and licking, his tongue stroked up her pussy, and she moaned.

"Pl- Please... I-I'm... I might-" she breathed in an awkward warning, and Ben immediately backed off.

"The fuck you will!" he ground out, and stood tall.

Without warning, he lifted her up against the wall so her legs wrapped around his waist. He held her suspended with ease, though his chest trembled from something else. Slowly, he manoeuvred her so the tip of his cock gently pressed against her pussy, slowly parting her lips without penetrating her.

Rachel's mouth opened eagerly and she wriggled, trying to discreetly impale herself as though she could pass it off as an accident.

"You think spying on vulnerably naked men should be rewarded?" Ben teased, holding her steady. "I think you have some begging to do. Go on."

"But..." she panted, her pussy aching with demand. "I don't even know your name."

"I don't care."

"Please?"

"Please, what?"

Rachel looked pained, and Ben laughed. "Fuck, this is so much more fun than I anticipated."

He only just stopped himself asking 'where have you been all my life?' and instead his hands shifted up her thighs to squeeze her bare ass. God, she felt good.

"What's your name?"

"R-Rachel," she said stupidly, immediately regretting the disclosure. Why the hell did she tell him her real name?!

"Do you want me to fuck you, Rachel?"

Shaking with lust, she timidly nodded without meeting his eyes, and he chuckled.

"We'll work on this another time. My cock can't wait."

Another time. He intended to see her again. Already imagining fleeing the country and starting a new life under a false identity, Rachel was certain she could never face him again.

Ben gently lowered her to the ground, then his hand firmly settled on her shoulder, directing Rachel to her knees.

"Show me what you can do," he demanded.

"But...I don't know..." she said feebly, shamefacedly staring at the floor.

"Don't lie, you little minx. Put it in your mouth, and suck it the way you no doubt fantasise while playing with yourself," he said, incredibly excited by the truth of his words. Waiting, he cheerfully rubbed his cock on her face.

Wishing he didn't watch her so intently, Rachel's cheeks burned as she obediently opened her mouth and let him guide his cock into it.

"Yeah, oh, yeah. Oh, fuck, you're good..." he huskily encouraged, watching her sweet lips open wide to take him.

With her mouth plugged with cock, Rachel was shockingly aroused, more than she thought physically possible. The feeling was incredible. She wanted to suck him all night long, and her pussy ached and throbbed, practically dripping with desperate need. But she was much too embarrassed to touch herself in front of him.

"Yeah," Ben said breathlessly, running a hand through her hair.

Ben loved long hair, especially the rare auburn colour he could see shining between his fingers in the shadowed room. It was as though God had sent him his fantasy woman; dropped his dream girl right into his lap. This was destiny.

Pulling his cock from her warm, wet mouth, he yanked her to her feet and reached down to stroke her pussy. Looking into Rachel's face, Ben's talented fingers slipped over the soft, wet area, then pressed inside her and she gasped and moaned. Her innocent eyes widened and Ben couldn't tell whether they were blue or hazel.

"You gonna cum on my fingers, Rachel?" he murmured, finger-fucking her. She gripped his arms urgently, panting heavily, but managed a light nod.

Ben withdrew his hand and she whimpered.

"You'll see me again."

Rachel stared up at him, wondering that the statement meant. Was he leaving? Realising he watched her expectantly, she looked indecisive and opened her mouth to tentatively answer in the negative, but Ben cut her off.

"It wasn't a question. You'll see me again. Say it." He sucked his fingers, soaked with her delectable juices, then resumed fingering her. "Say you'll see me again, Rachel."

"I...I..." she moaned, her eyelids heavy with exhausting arousal. "Please...I'm not good at..."

"You're tasty. You're everything I want. I need to know more," he whispered against her lips.

In an unexpected movement, he lifted her up around his waist again. After his workout, his muscles slightly ached from the effort. But it was a good ache, a delicious ache and the kind of endurance that gave more pleasure than pain.

"Tell me you'll see me again."

Ben's thick cock gently parted her pussy lips and slid in half an inch.

"Oh! Yes," Rachel breathed, ready to say anything he wanted. "I'll...I'll see you again..."