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ChapterOne
Eco Perris
She’s in the elevator again. Logically, I know use of the elevator is a normal function when a person lives in one of the condos here. But tell that to my balls that twitch and ache from the cum overload from watching her sexy-as-fuck body sashay through the communal spaces of the building.
Is security for the building my job? No. No, it is not. In fact, if my SEAL brothers, who co-own Cyber Patrol with me, knew how much time I spend on surveillance of our own headquarters with its attached condos on the upper floors, I’d never live it down.
Again, tell it to my balls. They’re so hard up to catch glimpses of her I’ve got her entire floor wired. And the elevators. And the atrium where the mailroom is. And the laundry facility and attached underground parking garage. Not that she ever ventures into those final two areas.
When my brothers in arms and I retired from the Navy and followed Edison back to his hometown of Mariposa, we went in together on real estate and a business providing contract security to government agencies. In the beginning, we each had a condo in the building, so we could live close to where we work.
Huxley, who we call Hux, was the last one to get here and the first one to move out. When he married Edison’s baby sister, he wanted to give her a home that felt like a tranquil place to escape the pressures of being a prosecuting attorney for the city. He sold his condo to a video game company run by girls, and it’s been a cycle of programmers and game nerds living there while they develop new games.
That’s been pretty fucking cool, even if I keep my videogaming a secret. Or as much of one as a guy can have with brothers like mine. And their wives. Seriously, my call sign is Radar because I have a knack for finding things. People, patterns, property… Name it, and I’ll locate it. But I’ve got nothing on the wives when they get together and go looking for info.
Our medic, Benedict, or Benzo as we call him, found his doll of a wife next. Talk about a FUBAR gone right. Dude meets the girl of his dreams at Hux’s wedding, the bride’s best friend no less, has one night with her where he manages to knock her up, and then unexpectedly deploys for months for a contract. When he gets back weeks later, he finds his soulmate pregnant with his baby but in a coma. Daytime television’s got nothing on that drama.
So, of course, when July woke up and Benzo convinced her to marry him, they sold his condo to build a house suited for a growing family.
Hux went for a tattoo over atVice and Vow Ink, and it was perfect timing to meet the newest artist there. Turns out the owner’s brother-in-law was looking to move out on his own. I can’t help but notice how often the much older business partner of the guy’s brother is around. I’m guessing the happily-ever-after energy the wives swear the building possesses is in play again.
Whizzer sold his condo when he finally tracked down his gamer girl in person and convinced her to let him be her real-life hero.
Which leaves only Edison’s condo and mine. I’ll be here ‘til the end of time. No happily-ever-after mojo lurks out there for me. Because…reasons.
Therein enters my obsession. I don’t know how she found out about Whizzer’s old place, or what made a single woman who lives alone decide she needed a three-bedroom, two-bathroom unit. I’m just thankful as fuck she’s here now. I know it won’t take long for the building’s penchant for pairing up strangers to matchmake her with some asshole who isn’t me.
Which is why I never miss an opportunity to watch her now. It’s all I’m ever gonna get, so I figure I ought to store up the memory of her delectable curves while I can. The woman’s stacked in a way nudie magazine centerfolds rely on editing software to create. Even in the dead of winter, she retrieves her mail from the atrium wearing the skimpiest shorts I’ve seen in my entire thirty-four years.
Some days, the frayed edges ride so high on her bottom cheeks I can see the crease of her ass. Those days are the ones I love and hate equally. It’s a guarantee I’ll wind up in bed with my dick sore and raw from my rough abuse after watching her bend low to empty the locked cabinet where her mail is delivered. One of these days, I swear I’ll catch sight of a plump little pussy lip popping out of the side just for me.
Most days, she’s as fresh faced as a baby when she ventures out. Her high cheeks and button nose give her a mixed look of both adorably cute and staggeringly sexy. Even bare of lipstick or gloss, her lips are naturally puffy and pouty. It makes it impossible to look at her and not imagine them swollen from being stretched around my meaty cock.
I’ve got her name, Greer Olivia Saddler. Her birthday was in November and she just turned twenty-three. She’s not in college or employed anywhere I can find without doing a deeper inquiry that feels morally unjustified, considering she doesn’t know I exist and she’s not a target. Still, there’s something so familiar about her bombshell looks I can’t get over.
I’ll have to, though. A woman giving out boners as freely as she does simply by existing? Just because I’ve yet to see her entertain a man in the six months since she’s moved in, it doesn’t mean she won’t soon. My conservative estimate is she probably gets hit on a dozen times every time she leaves the building. The only thing keeping me sane is knowing she only leaves a couple times a week.
The need to figure out where she goes on those infrequent trips is enough to have my fingers twitching over the keys of the computer as she ambles out the front doors and into a rideshare. They don’t call me Radar for nothing. Finding her in a city the size of Mariposa will be child’s play. I give the painful length curving along the inside of my right leg a rough thump to get things under control.
I know spying on Greer is wrong, but again, tell it to my balls. I think I’ve finally gone jizz-crazy, because my fingers fly into motion, hacking into traffic cameras and following the path of that Uber.
ChapterTwo
Greer Saddler
Client booked private cam for 11:30 pm, duration thirty minutes. Requests you dress as dinosaur and roar at him while stomping around the room. Partial payment plus equipment allotment will be deposited in advance. - Fet-astic Schedule Bot
Well, there’s a request I don’t get very often. Ninety percent of the time, private requesters want weird shit like asking me to lie down nude and cover myself in cheese slices or having me flick the bean while I tell them their tiny penis would never be worthy of touching me. This new request is strange even by those standards.
Green is green, though, so like every time other I get an oddball request, I toggle the accept button and grab my purse to make a quick trip to the nearest costume warehouse. Luckily, the mega website that owns practically the entire universe has a quick drop pickup location nearby. If I order now, I should be able to pick up the dinosaur outfit on my way home from the grocery store.
Most of the time I get everything delivered, so I don’t need to leave home, but this well-funded request came out of left field. I might as well save myself the extra delivery fees and pick up my own cereal and energy drinks while I’m out.
I sorta wish I had friends or someone to message and share the oddness of the requests I get. In the year I’ve been camming, I’ve learned to keep very, very private about the job. People act as though there’s shame in sex work, but for a girl like me, who barely made it through high school and doesn’t have family to rely on in hard times, being a cam girl keeps me safe and solvent.
I stripped for a while when I first turned eighteen and my dad gave me the boot from my childhood home. He didn’t like that I’m unwilling to be a perfect little pet for him to pose and parade around for his business associates. Seeing as I don’t like being pimped out for someone else’s profit, it really was best for me to go. Working the pole wasn’t for me, though.
My vision’s not the best without my glasses. Contacts in the artificially smoky club are a recipe for teary eyes and a red, runny nose. That’s not exactly a sex kitten vibe. Plus, when you’re stripping, there are house fees you have to pay, jostling with other dancers for the good shifts and the decent regulars, and fending off customers who get grabby.
