Page 22 of Voyeur
Two days.
That was how long I stayed away from Voyeur after my conversation with Oaklyn on Tuesday.
Maybe she won’t be here, I thought as I entered my identification code at the door. The hope was hollow at best considering a larger part of me hoped she would be there.1I’d come earlier in the week and had missed her, telling myself I was happy about it. Then I’d watched another couple perform and struggled to not picture Oaklyn the whole time.
I was a fucking mess.
When I walked through the doors, I pulled my hat low. I’d gone home to put on jeans, and a baseball cap,2knowing I’d be asking for trouble to show up in the suit I wore to work that day. She’d spot me instantly and I couldn’t even begin to imagine the ramifications of her knowing I was there. Guilt pinched my chest, but desire burned hotter and bigger than anything else I could feel.
I discreetly kept an eye on my surroundings and headed to the bar, sitting in the corner to get a better view. But when the bartender set my beer in front of me and moved away, Oaklyn stood at the other side, laughing with another employee.
I stared; I couldn’t help it. She wore a long, flowing red silk chiffon robe, barely tied at her slim waist and hinting at her curves encased in a strappy red bra.3I wanted to peel it off her. Wanted to see if her panties were just as flimsy as her bra. Wanted to see her take it all off for me.
Quickly, I dropped my chin, letting my hat cover my face when she turned in my direction. I squeezed the bottle, trying to let the cold, hard glass calm me down. Maybe if I slipped it between my legs, it would ease the erection straining against my pants.
I ached to request her. To make her do all the things I fantasized about her doing. And I hated it. That wasn’t the point of Voyeur. It wasn’t to lust after a performer and fall in love with watching them. It was about watching anyone, the person unspecific to the fantasy. I felt like I was breaking the rules, and it had to stop. I chugged the rest of my beer and set it down before heading to an iPad and blindly selecting a woman for a solo performance.
But even with an oblivious selection, fate had set me up with a girl who looked similar to Oaklyn.I was fucked.
I moved back to my spot on the bar and waited to be notified the room was ready. This time I only asked for a water.
It didn’t take long for a woman maybe in her forties to approach me. I wouldn’t be able to guess her age if it wasn’t for the fine lines around her eyes that gave her away. Otherwise, her body was sleek, encased in a tight, black skirt and white blouse that was mostly left unbuttoned.
“Hey, do you need any company?” she asked, trailing her finger down my arm. “I’m Anne by the way.”
“Hey, Anne. I’m Cal, and unfortunately, I’ve just made a selection and will be leaving soon.” I added a smooth, regretful smile. I didn’t want to be rude.
She licked her lips. “Do you need any company in there?” she asked, nodding her head toward the back rooms.
I admired her boldness. Most people came to Voyeur because they knew what they wanted, and they wanted to satisfy that craving for a kink most people didn’t understand. I came because if I was going to be so fucked up, I’d at least have the best kind of porn available. I’d watch what I couldn’t force my body to go through with. But being there didn’t usually mean you came to find someone to take to a private room and do whatever as the performance went on. Sure, conversations went on and people met like at a regular bar, but what happened in the back was usually not on the table without knowing someone.
“I’m okay alone tonight, but thanks for the offer.”
Thankfully, my wristband buzzed, saving me from any further conversation. With a final nod, I left and headed to the back room. It was dark when I entered, and I turned the knob on the light switch just enough so I could see where I was going. A black leather couch and two armchairs filled the middle of the room. Side tables sat between them,4holding lamps on each. A shelf sat along one wall that held towels, an assortment of lotions and lubes, and condoms. Also, a binder with the other selections you could request, including dildos, straps, and about any other apparatus you could think to use in a small room with a couch and two chairs.
I grabbed a bottle of warming lube and a towel before flipping the switch to let them know I was ready and sat on the couch that faced the glass wall. From my side, the glass allowed me the privacy I wanted, but still let me feel like I was in the room. I knew from their side, it was a black wall they couldn’t see through.
I was unzipping my jeans when the girl came in. She moved around the room like she was at home before she sat on the edge of the bed and spread her legs. Her light brown hair fell behind her and she moaned, slipping her fingers beneath her white panties.
My cock grew harder, and I gripped it tightly with lube coating my fingers. I stroked slowly up and down, swirling around the head and flexed my hips. Her bra came off and her large breasts defied gravity with how perky they were for their size. I tugged my jeans down a little further, pulling my balls out and cupping them in my hand, squeezing them with each stroke of my shaft.
Her breathing increased, and her moans became louder.
And I fought to chase an orgasm.
Her panties came off and both hands worked over her wet pussy.
I saw her long red nails and struggled to stay hard.
The performer’s moans were too fake. Her breasts too large. Her makeup too heavy. And her pussy was completely shaved. I knew Oaklyn had a thin landing strip that matched the color of her hair.
All of it was wrong.
While I wanted to close my eyes and picture Oaklyn as I stroked myself to orgasm, I also didn’t want to. I didn’t want to have to admit what she did for me. I didn’t want to admit the control I’d given her. I didn’t want to admit how much I craved her.
“Fuck,” I said on an angry breath.
I gave up, tucking my cock away after wiping myself down. I didn’t want to turn off the light to let her know I was gone just yet. It felt disrespectful to not stay for the full performance and as much as I wanted to get the fuck out of there, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings because I was slowly going insane. Thankfully, it didn’t take long and as soon as she had come down from her over-the-top orgasm, I flipped the switch, letting them know I was gone, and bolted.
