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“You look terrified,” he chuckles. “You need to relax. Try and enjoy yourself, okay?”
Easier said than done.
“So where, uh, are we doing this?” I ask nervously.
“Any requests?” he smirks. “You look like a girl who’d enjoy a good spanking.”
I do my best to glower at him, but his comment has me feeling a rush of excitement. I’m really here to do this. And the farthest thing from my mind is catching my stalker.
“I’m happy to follow your lead. You are the one with experience, after all,” I retort.
“Okay. Let’s start over there by the bar and go from there. If we’re all over each other and then disappear into the voyeurism room he’ll get the idea. We don’t even need to do anything if you’re not comfortable with it. Just tell me to stop and we will, okay?”
I nod, letting him lead me toward the bar. I have every intention of following through once we’re in that room. Conrad orders us a couple of drinks. I finish mine quickly and order another, thankful that I don’t recognize the chick behind the bar. I’m nervous enough as it is without being reminded that I work here.
After my third drink, I feel ready to start. Conrad is all over me, kissing my neck and groping me. People are watching, but not in a creepy way. If anything, their attention is turning me on.
“Shall we go inside?” He nods down the hall, where the voyeurism room is situated. My heart pounds as I nod my head and stand up. He takes my hand in his as we walk down the carpeted hallway.
Two months working here and I’d only stepped foot in the voyeurism room once. It’s a stunning area, complete with plush beds and sofas and a stage in the center of the room. Lights shine down on the stage, spotlighting an older couple who stand there, naked and making out.
There are about twenty people in the room, more men than women, and all ages. I find myself studying each of them closely, looking for any hint that they’re my stalker, but I get nothing. I don’t know whether this makes me feel relief or anxiety. Maybe both.
“Come over here.” Conrad leads me over to one of the beds on the far side of the room. Out of all the spots we could sit, this would be the most private—as private as a large glass room can be. “I’m going to start by lowering your dress.”
I shiver as his fingers release the zipper on the back of my tight purple dress. I’m not wearing a bra, so when the dress gives way my breasts are completely on display.
“Stand up for me,” he whispers.
I obey, positioning myself in front of him.
“Close your eyes and pretend it’s just us.”
I close my eyes and listen to the sound of his voice and my beating heart.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
My body trembles as he lowers my dress over my hips and past my thighs. I feel the material pool at my feet. I’m naked, except for the tiniest white lace thong that is covering my pussy. His fingers trail up my thigh and I gasp.
God, why am I so wet?
‘You smell so good,” he whispers.
I jump as he pushes aside my thong, his fingers running along my entrance. I can’t describe how amazing his touch feels, and I’ve all but forgotten we have an audience. He takes my hand and tugs me forward, onto his fingers. I gasp as they thrust inside of me.
“Everyone is watching us, admiring your body,” he murmurs while exploring my pussy. “They wish they were doing what I am.”
I shiver at his words. The thought of strangers wanting me like that is incredible and terrifying. Is he here? Is he watching, wishing this were him doing these things to me? Why does that excite me? Confused, I block out thoughts of him and focus on the only man I care about right now: the one in front of me.
“Lie down on the bed,” he instructs.
I step forward and position myself on the edge of the bed. I’m facing the other way now, which gives me the perfect view of everyone.
“Flat on the bed. With your knees bent.”
My stomach flips as I realize what he’s about to do. I’m shaking as I lie back on the mattress, my legs bent. I exhale as he nudges my legs apart, his fingers circling the soft skin at the tops of my thighs. I groan as his mouth hits my bare pussy, his warm breath making me jump. He runs his tongue over my opening slowly, as if to make sure I feel every tiny movement. I clutch at the sheets beside me and groan. He thrusts his tongue inside my wetness, causing me to jump again. My hands grip the back of his head as he pushes in and out of me.
“Oh God,” I mumble, my words barely coherent. He is completely in control and I love it. “Faster.”
