rear window free erotica

The Rear Window – An Audio Erotic Story


Ken sat in a wheelchair with his right leg encased in an unfriendly cast. The plaster stretched from his hip to his foot. Only his toes were visible. On the cast was written the immortal words: Here lie the broken bones of Ken.

In this hindered state, he was stuck in his apartment, staring either at the television or out of the rear window.

“I’m sick of Netflix and Hulu and talk shows and … and I’ve always hated the news,” he told Gerald, his friend who was visiting.

“Ever read?”

“Finished three books already. But I can only handle so much. All I want to do is jog or take a walk. To go down there.” He turned his wheelchair toward the wide window. Through the pane he could see a square community garden. It was hidden from the public by the several stories of apartment buildings.

“I am so bored that I’m going crazy.” Ken rolled his defeated eyes. He was too drained, too uninterested in the world.

“Then you could use this.” Gerald pulled a heavy camera from his backpack.

“This thing is ancient. Old enough that it needs film!” He handed it back.

Gerald would not take the camera though. Instead, he gave Ken a telephoto lens and a tripod. “And these go with it.”

Ken grumbled. “I’d like to say ‘thanks’ but I can’t form the words because the gift is so idiotic.”

“Trust me.” He clapped Ken’s shoulder to make his point. “I broke my leg once and this saved me. People are strange. Watch them.”

“You know you are the real strange one. Staring at people?” He set the camera on his lampstand next to his pill bottle. “You’re a photographer. No wonder it saved you. But me, I’m a ball player. I can’t just sit.” Ken pointed his eyes at the ceiling, felt disappointed, maddened.

“You will never, ever be able to give up that camera after you get a chance to watch people.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Ken waved his hand. “I want to be watched, not to snoop on other people. I don’t want to be cramped up here. I need to wear off my energy.”

Gerald reassured him once more before leaving. He knew that a seemingly ancient camera could, and would, change a life today. “Trust me. You’ll love it.”

But Ken was content with being upset at his circumstances, at hating his wheelchair, at being frustrated by his broken leg.

Over the next week, Ken’s pain pills, the television, and sheer boredom flipped his sleep cycle. He slept most of the day and was wide awake into the wee hours of the morning.

Ken stared out of that rear window much of the time. He soon learned too much about all of his neighbors. One floor above was an apartment with a large window. The place had bright colored lights spinning and twirling inside. It went on for hours. On the cool nights, the windows were open. He heard jazz recordings coming from the apartment. However, the curtains were always closed.

In an apartment on his same floor lived an old woman who loved her cat. She kept fresh milk for it and put left-over food on the window sill. She would stroke the cat’s back as it paced back and forth on the brick sill. The cat would arch high, pointing its tail straight up. The old woman woke up well before sunrise, but she turned off the lights and closed the curtains just after sunset.

Then, across the garden, there was a nimble woman who lived a floor higher than his apartment. Her curtains were not open often. When they were open, Ken witnessed her flexibility. He could not decide whether she was a gymnast or a ballet dancer or maybe a yoga instructor. Whichever, she could raise one leg and place it against the wall vertically. She could also do other amazing things with her body. Those brief moments were breath-taking. He began to think Gerald might be correct. He wouldn’t admit it, but he kept his camera on his lap.

There was another lovely woman. She lived directly across the garden from him and two floors down. That angle gave him a unique view of her place. She kept her curtains and blinds open. She liked to cook and she was one who lived by a set schedule. At 5:00 in the evening, she would begin cooking. By 6:00, she sat at the dinner table. She would take a small bit of the food for herself and leave the rest. Later in the evening, she would scrape the leftovers into the trash.

She would retire to a living room to relax in front of the television or with a book. Often, she drank red wine in stemmed glasses. Late at night she would move to her bedroom. A few times stumbling. One time, through the camera lens, he saw her shoot back a couple of hard drinks. Soon she was plastered. She ended up sleeping, splayed out on her bed. She didn’t get under the blankets, never tried to move a pillow toward her. Her head was inches from that mound of comfortable pillows. She didn’t change from her dark skirt or yellow blouse. She never even tried to take off her pumps. Ken watched one shoe dangle from her left foot. It was almost an hour before the shoe slipped off.

The next morning, Ken’s girlfriend visited.

“How’s your leg?” Lisa Carol asked, after waking him with a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Hurts a little.”

“And your stomach?”

“Empty as a football.”

“Let me get you something.” She went to the kitchen. He heard her pull out a drawer and peel open the refrigerator. When he heard two bottles clank, he remembered his sleeping neighbor. He wheeled over to the camera. After focusing the lens, he saw that she was still on the bed, not moving.

Lisa Carol walked in.

“Have you become a voyeur?”

“I have interesting neighbors,” he said, still staring through the lens.

“How interesting?”

“A gymnast, a jazz lover, and an ailurophile.”

“A cat lover, eh? Who are you looking at now?”

“This lady who got drunk last night. Was laid out on the bed.”

“Is she still there?” Lisa Carol asked.

“She’s on the bed, yes.”

Lisa Carol took the camera out of Ken’s hands.

“She’s two floors down, directly across.” He pointed.

She quickly found the lady. “Bad night.”

“Yeah, I don’t understand her. She makes a full meal every night, eats a little bit and then dumps out the rest. Strange.”

Lisa Carol put down the camera. “Maybe she’s hoping someone will come for dinner.”

“If so, he’s been a no-show for nearly three weeks now. I’ve never seen him.”

“Or she could be waiting for a she …”

Ken looked at her. “Yes, or a her. Whoever, the lady’s been waiting a while. And she is dedicated, hopeful even. Too hopeful.”

“You feel bad for her,” Lisa Carol teased. “Mr. Coldhearted is unfreezing.”

“You have softened me.” He reached toward his girlfriend.

“Aw.” She leaned forward, staring deeply into his dark eyes. She moved her lips close to his mouth. He felt her warm, peppermint breath. Holding him hostage near her lips, she said, “I have always loved your sarcasm. It warms my heart.”

She then pulled back, without giving him a kiss. She just rustled his hair. “I’ll get your breakfast ready.”

However, their attention was drawn to the curtains that were just pulled open. It was the young woman who lived one floor up and across the garden. She basked for a moment in the morning sunlight, running her fingers through her blond hair.

Lisa Carol took the camera and looked through the rear window. “She’s pretty.” The woman’s body was taut and lean. “Do you like looking at her?”

“Doesn’t have her curtains open often. I can’t tell if she’s a gymnast, a ballerina or a yoga instructor.”

“You’ve seen her?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “She is very flexible. Very, very flexible.”

Lisa Carol looked again, longer.

“I meant, does Ms. Flexibility have any visitors. Have you seen her with anyone else?”

“I haven’t seen anyone. But, like I said, she doesn’t keep her curtains open.”

“No howls or screams. Maybe a couple of deep moans?”

“Lisa Carol.” Ken said her name farcically but tried to restrain any sign of humor.

“What?” She put down the camera.

Her smile cracked his weeks-long grumpy attitude that had become as hard as the cast on his leg. He didn’t want to but couldn’t resist. He smiled at her. “You are one crazy woman. You surprise me.”

“Good. I’ve heard how terrible this is for you, being locked in here, stuck in a wheelchair, with a cast on your leg. I want to brighten your day.”

“No sarcasm?” Ken asked.


“Then you need to stay here with me a little more. We could make it fun.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve got work, you know. Remember the nine-to-five? In Real Estate, I don’t get paychecks for doing nothing. I don’t sell, I don’t eat.”

Lisa Carol disappeared into the kitchen. Ken soon heard eggs frying and bacon sizzling on the stove. He heard her whistling a light melody as she readied breakfast. When done she brought the warm food on a TV tray so he could eat easily in the wheelchair.

“Still watching Ms. Flexibility?” she asked.

“Yeah. And thanks for breakfast. It’s a highlight of my day.”

“What is your highlight: My breakfast or Ms. Flexibility?”

Ken was silent.

“That means a lot not coming from you.” Lisa gleamed.

While he ate, she spied through the camera at the limber woman.

Lisa Carol eeked in transferred pain. “She’s doing a plié and, yep, and there’s a pirouette. Looks like a ballet dancer. Wow! She really is flexible.” Hearing Lisa Carol’s commentary, Ken almost dropped his fork. “She’s got a little tight body. Not a bit of fat on her thighs. Pure, toned muscle. Arms tight, a thin neck. I really like her hair style and the color. A silvery blond. Very popular.” Lisa Carol inhaled quickly, unexpectedly. “Oh, now she’s getting into yoga positions. There’s downward dog. Mama Mia! Moving into the half-moon. The crow pose. She is good. Maybe she actually is a yoga teacher instead. Yikes! Ouch! I can almost feel a pain in my thighs just watching her stretch.” Lisa Carol shuttered.

“She can do, basically, a split right up the wall,” Ken said. “I rarely met athletic girls who could contort like her. Plenty could open up wide but weren’t so bendable.”

“Not even me?” Lisa Carol asked with a tinge of teasing.

“You’ve got your own skills. Trust me, you open up on time and in the right places.”

She swatted his shoulder. “I work hard to do that too.”

“You’re the one who may need some more training,” he bantered back.

She put her hands on her hips. “Who can I train with? You’re in a wheelchair.”

“I can still do a few things.”

They laughed. She leaned close to him, allowing a top button of her blouse open. “You better show me.”

He arched up in his wheelchair to meet her lips, but she pulled away, still teasing him.

Ken scouted Ms. Flexibility through the lens. “Any final conclusions on a ballerina or yoga teacher?”

“I have not made a decision yet. And what about Ms. Lonelyheart? She still asleep?”

“On the bed, yep, seems so.”

“I wonder what knocked her out last night,” Lisa Carol said.

“A couple of straight shots. She’s not a large lady and not too much will knock out someone like her, fast.”

“I didn’t mean what knocked her out. But what was it that caused her to get all-out smashed? Something must have torn her up and pushed her to her brink.”

Lisa Carol’s smartwatch buzzed. “Look at the time. I’ve got a meeting downtown in an hour. I will be back this evening. I’ll clean up and have a little dinner for you. Keep me updated on the neighbors. Tonight we’ll try to figure out what pushed Ms. Lonelyheart so far.”

She pecked Ken on the cheek and left. Soon Ken drifted off to sleep after a long night awake and a filling breakfast. When he awoke, it was four in the afternoon.

Ms. Lonelyheart’s apartment was dark. The blinds were pulled shut and curtains closed. A few floors above, Ms. Flexibility had closed her curtains too. But the old woman was stroking her pussycat as it strode back and forth on the window sill. Jazz was blaring from the window of the other apartment. Jazz and a sunny afternoon just didn’t seem to fit together, so he closed his window to deafen the sound of the odd mix.

He wondered if Ms. Flexibility had guys over to her place, or if she went to a man’s apartment. He wished she would invite a man over. The thought of hearing her shout out in passion aroused him. Or, in bed, Ms. Flexibility might be a quiet woman, barely a sound. A huge dick might force a squeak or an humph when its thrusts went deep. Or she might invite over another woman. He loved the idea of Ms. Flexibility rubbing her mound against a woman who was just as flexible. Their legs spread wide, tribbing. Swollen clits kissing, their moist labia rubbing against each other, sticking together from the wetness and then pulling apart slowly as the girls moved. Behind the curtain, who knew what was going on. Yet, as much as Ms. Flexibility and Ms. Lonelyheart intrigued him, Lisa Carol caused his pulse to increase. She had brought up the notion of women. The thought had crossed his mind beforehand, but hers? What other imaginings go through her mind? He grinned.

The day dragged on. No curtains or blinds opened. Ken watched television, but he ended up napping to pass the time faster. That evening through, Lisa Carol arrived with some news.

“Ms. Flexibility is a dancer,” she said as she opened the apartment door. “She has been a part of national tours and a well-known dance company. So she’s somebody who knows her steps.”

“How did you figure that out?”

“A Real Estate database, a little Internet search, and some gumption. I stopped by her apartment lobby. Wrote down some names and then began searching.”

“Resourceful and brave,” Ken said.

“I know.” She pridefully buffed her nails on her purple blouse with the gold necklace that was set high on her chest.

“She connected to anyone? Married, tied financially to someone?”

“I didn’t see anything. No co-owned house,” Lisa Carol answered. “And you, any news on the home front?”

“Curtains closed.”

Lisa Carol picked up the camera. “But Ms. Lonelyheart should be making dinner soon, right? It’s about time. I made sure to be here before 5.”

“I hope she starts. Hangovers can really mess with a person’s scheduled life.”

Lisa Carol sat in a recliner with the camera in her lap. “I cannot figure out what might have pushed her to hard drinking. You say no one’s come for dinner. Has anyone visited at all?”

“Not since I’ve been stuck in here. Except … one man did come by. He didn’t come in but she gave him a hug. She seemed excited from what I could tell.”

“He was only there for a few minutes?”

“Not long at all. If it wasn’t for that hug, I would have thought he came to the wrong door.”

“Hmm.” Lisa Carol tapped her lips with her forefinger. “A man.”

“What are you thinking?” Ken asked the thinking woman.

Suddenly her face brightened. “We should give her a secret admirer. It might boost her mood, give her a little bit to live for, other than drinking. I know I loved when I heard from men who admired me.”

Ken started to object.

Lisa Carol overruled his objection before he could say what it was. “I will need a piece of paper, an envelope and a pen. You’ll need to write the letter. It must have a man’s handwriting.”

“Planning to make a paper airplane to fly across the garden?”

Lisa Carol laughed briefly. “I will deliver it to her door.”

“This isn’t right. We’re toying with her emotions.”

“Wrong. We’re making her day. We’ll send letters and gifts. Later we’ll have her and her admirer meet.”

“Her non-existent admirer?”

“You know plenty of single guys. I know some too. One of them would play the part of the admirer, especially when they see how pretty Ms. Lonelyheart is.”

Ken conceded, nodding his head. It could turn out well. Not always do the secret admirer and the admired worked out as a couple. If this one doesn’t, so be it.

Lisa Carol set down the pen and paper. “Write this:

‘Dear Admired,

‘You amaze me. Ever since I saw your humility and kindness when we first met. I have been unable to get you out of my mind. I can’t wait for the day when I have the courage to present myself to you openly, and speak confidently. That time will soon come.’”

After jotting down the last word, Ken said, “You seem to have written these before.”

“I read them when they first began to arrive in my locker in elementary school. The letters improved as the boys grew into teens. The writing deteriorated when admirers became men. And,” she raised her finger, “I also read romance novels.”

“That makes more sense.”

“Oh, add this. ‘Enjoy the gifts that come. Know that I love you and I mean the best.’”


Lisa Carol touched Ken’s nose with the tip of her finger. “That’ll come in time.”

Lisa Carol was the one to first notice Ms. Lonelyheart’s curtains open. The woman set a pan on the stove and pulled some food from the refrigerator. She began slicing and chopping. Soon she slid the food in a pan on the stovetop.

“Looks like a good meal,” Lisa Carol said, still holding the camera.

“Maybe the one she’s cooking for has a special taste.” Ken held the sealed envelope. “So when is this letter going to her place?”

Lisa Carol put down the camera. “I don’t want to wait until later. I am going to deliver it now.”

Ken tried to object again. But she was determined and he had a broken leg. Lisa Carol was gone quickly. She walked across the community garden below and then between the buildings, through the narrow pass to the street. A few minutes later, she appeared in the hallway window of the apartment building. She came to the door of Ms. Lonelyheart’s apartment and gave Ken a thumbs-up. She didn’t slide the letter under the door but left. Was she playing a game? Where did she go? A few minutes later, Ken saw her again in the same hallway. This time, she knocked on the door of the apartment.

“What is that woman doing?” Ken feared that Lisa Carol might just be brash enough to tell her that he and she had been watching and were worried about her.

The two women spoke briefly and then said goodbye. In the hallway, Lisa Carol gave another thumbs-up. Ken saw Ms. Lonelyheart sit at her set table and peel open the envelope. Her eyes gobbled up the words on the letter. She stood and covered her mouth in exuberance. She held the letter to her chest. A moment later, she suddenly scrambled to a boiling pot.

When Lisa Carol returned, Ken told her that Ms. Lonelyheart’s life had quickly turned good.

“Now for step two,” Lisa Carol said. “The gifts.”

“You have something in mind?”

“Don’t I always?” She leaned forward and kissed him. “And I think you’ll like seeing what happens. Whether it helps Ms. Lonelyheart or not, it will help us.”

Ken squinted his eyes as if attempting to peer into his girlfriend’s mind or to decode her veiled meaning.

Lisa Carol cooked dinner and they ate together, looking out of the rear window, as if it overlooked a beautiful landscape of palm trees, white beaches and a blue ocean. Just after sunset, jazz filled the empty garden, echoing between the walls. Lisa Carol and Ken watched Ms. Lonelyheart once again scrape the uneaten food into the trashcan. But she didn’t turn to hard drinking. Instead, she held the letter and read it again.

Lisa Carol turned her attention to Ms. Flexibility when the woman slid open the curtains slowly, unlike this morning when she flung them wide. Ken noticed Lisa Carol. She was grinning. Her grin was one of intrigue and shenanigans.

“She’s coming out,” she said excitedly.

“What?” Ken asked.

“Ms. Flexibility got a gift today. A package came to the wrong apartment but was brought to hers, which had her address written on the package.”

“Lisa Carol,” Ken said, with the tone of a father who had just realized a child’s devious plan, “what did you do?”

“Just watch. Hopefully, it’ll work.”

“What did you drop off? And when did you?”

“Would you like another drink?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“It doesn’t matter when or how. All that matters is whether we get to see.” She winked at him.

They watched Ms. Flexibility slice through the heavy-duty packaging and then extract another box. Ken took away the camera from Lisa Carol. He saw Ms. Flexibility holding a pink box. She took out several thin sheets of packing tissue. Then she pulled out a small double-pronged device. Ken was confused, until Lisa Carol laughed.

“Did you just give her…”

“A toy for her pleasure and ours.”

Ms. Flexibility unbuttoned her shorts and slid them and her panties down. She then flung them off her foot and across the room. Ken first felt his heart beat double in what he might see. Then he felt a hand snaked under his arm, down his stomach. The hand stopped at the waistband of his athletic shorts.

“Keep your eyes on her,” Lisa Carol whispered. “Imagine what she’s thinking.”

He saw Ms. Flexibility hold the small gift, as if attempting to figure out how it worked.

Lisa Carol leaned close to Ken’s ear. “She’s too aroused, too wet, to read the instructions.”

He saw Ms. Flexibility eye the toy for a moment and then set it between her legs. A moment later, her back was arched and her face was blasted with a shock of pleasure.

“She wasn’t expecting it.” Lisa Carol nibbled on Ken’s ear lobe. “I wasn’t ready the first time either. It took me out of this world.”

“Been to the moon lately?”

“Not since my rocket broke. How about you?”

“Nope.” Ken patted his cast. “Broken rocket.”

Lisa Carol slid her hand into his shorts. She found his cock. She gently, teasingly, touched it. She moved her fingernails along the stem, up to its head.  She made it come alive. It engorged.

She spoke into Ken’s ear. “Ms. Flexibility is figuring out the vibrations. The first is a murmur. When I first used mine, I felt the waves go through my body, like I was sailing. I wanted more, and so does she. Everything else in the world just lost all value.”

Lisa Carol moaned softly. “The next levels are vivid. They made my ass tighten and ease over and over. I remember my tongue pushing against my teeth to temper the pleasure.”

She got a better grip around his cock, then tightened and eased her fingers in pulsations.

“Ms. Flexibility is wet for her orgasm. Her little pussy is slippery. It’s begging, and she’s going to satisfy it. She’s not giving up until she gets what she wants. Open curtain or closed, she doesn’t care anymore. I always play with my windows open and curtains wide. I want the neighbors to know, so they’ll look. I want the men and their wives to see me with my legs open, me, squeezing my tits, tugging my nipples.”

Her hand moved up and down Ken’s dick, steadily. She let her thumb rub against its head.

“Imagine what she’s thinking. She may want you watching her, to see her legs spread, her tits jiggling, her, pinching her nipples.”

“Yes,” he whimpered.

“If I was there with her, I would put my tongue in her pussy and lick.”

She touched her long tongue to his ear. He jumped, and his dick tensed.

“Did you know I have kissed pussy before? Eaten out girls, sucked titties, been eaten out by a woman? Did you know that? Would you have liked to know before now?”

Ken was too intense to answer properly. He was even unable to nod.

“I like when the girl’s pussy has a little stubble. The roughness feels good on my cheek and around my mouth as I press into her.”

She kissed his cheek. It was covered in that same coarseness.

She pulled out his dick from his shorts, so she could see what she was about to accomplish and so he could see what she would soon do.

“Do you see Ms. Flexibility through the curtains?” She let go of his cock and walked around him. She handed him the camera, which he had set aside. “Watch her. Where is she? Tell me.”

Ken scrambled to align his eye with the viewfinder. His brain had to retract from pure luscious pleasure to do a specific task. Ms. Flexibility was flat on the bed, except for her feet. Her feet were wide apart and then would crunch together. Her hand remained deep between her legs. Ken was about to share the scene, when a warmth, a wetness, slid down his cock. Lisa Carol bobbed up and down, sucking his dick. It had been so long, especially with this cast on.

She gurgled and gagged and choked when she mouthed him. The coconut scent of her hair conditioner wafted up to his nostrils as she raised up high to massage his head with her tongue. Then she dove down hard on him. He jerked and twitched in his wheelchair. He felt a quick pain in his lower leg, near the healing break. He clenched his jaw, the pulse in his temples thudding hard. He was sent over the peak when he heard, among Lisa Carol’s slurping, a wild shriek from Ms. Flexibility. Ken released his pent-up cum into Lisa Carol’s face and onto her thin blouse and dangling necklace.

Lisa Carol raised up and exhaled, satisfied. She pulled in a dollop of cum from her lips with her reddened tongue. She wiped a bit from her forehead and licked it from her finger.

“Enjoying the night?”

Ken couldn’t answer. He was in a numbed state of after-pleasure.

Lisa Carol ceded the night, because of her next day’s business schedule. “I’ll be back tomorrow after I drop off a little gift to Ms. Lonelyheart.”

He was going to ask what she planned to buy her, but he was still in a luscious state. 

Lisa Carol stood in front of the hanging mirror in his apartment. She straightened her hair after her frolic. “Be here and you’ll find out.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

She kissed him quickly and left.




The next evening, his apartment door unlocked and Lisa Carol stepped in. She was followed by a short man in a delivery outfit. She directed the guy to put the food in the kitchen.

She gave Ken a passing peck on the cheek. “Anything fun since last night?”

“Not really. Who’s he?”

“I had to stop by several stores tonight, so I had no time to make anything,” she said busily.

Ken could only watch Lisa Carol work, and that bothered him. She bustled from Ken to the kitchen, grabbing items from the cabinets and dishwasher to set up and arrange their makeshift dining table, or TV trays. She directed the delivery guy on where to place the plates and how much of the lasagna and salad to set on each plate. She popped the cork on the wine bottle. Soon she thanked the delivery guy with a nice tip and sent him on his way. Finally, she settled next to Ken. She exhaled the whirlwind gathering of dinner. They quietly ate their dinner and sipped wine.

Soon Lisa Carol set down her fork and took the camera. She aimed it through the rear window.

“Did you see a package arrive at Ms. Lonelyheart’s apartment?” she asked, still gazing through the lens.

“I didn’t. Maybe I was asleep.” 

“Ah, yes. There’s the package. I see it.”

“What did you do this time?” Ken was unsure what she would answer, knowing the ends she went to before to toy with his neighbors.

Still watching Ms. Lonelyheart, Lisa Carol said, “A woman always loves red roses. A dozen of them or a single one. Red may not even be her favorite, but the thought behind the gift of roses makes all the difference.”

“So you bought her roses?”

“And I had a quick note with it. ‘Loving you, hoping to see you soon, face to face.’”

“But who is going to see her?” Ken prodded.

“Time, Ken, time.” And Lisa Carol kissed him deeply, letting her tongue rouse his tongue, patting it and wrestling with his. She released the kiss with a long exhale. She stood and walked to the kitchen. Over her shoulder she said, “I have some pie for you.”

Ken stared at her and wondered how she could get so physical and stimulating and then, almost, turn it off, to get pie. She would get him going and then leave him hanging, or erect as was the case. With his heart beating faster, the subject that had been roaming through his mind all day returned. He heard her reaching high into the cabinet for plates. He liked watching her reach high. It made her legs flex to show how she worked out.

“Lisa Carol, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Um, did you really, um, go down on another girl?”

The kitchen went silent. She didn’t respond.

Ken decided, by her silence, that it was just dirty talk. Lisa Carol remained aloof. He realized she had only twisted his mind to raise up his cock. To Ken, she had been wonderfully detailed when she mentioned stubble. It made him shiver, and more. Too bad it wasn’t true, he thought. It would have been nice to hear about it. Few stories beat frisky college girls on Spring Break.

Lisa Carol returned with two dessert plates with slices of chocolate cream pie. A larger slice for Ken, and a slim slice for her. She took a small piece of her pie and held the fork next to her lips. Before putting it in her mouth, she asked, “Did you have a question for me?” Then she slid the piece of pie into her mouth. She was smooth, tantalizing. If she had attempted to twist his mind before, she was already doing it once more.

“You piqued my interest last night,” Ken said. He took a large bite of his pie.

“I did?” Her simple, innocent poise had the ability to trigger Ken, to make his pulse increase. “I made you wonder? Was it about Ms. Flexibility or was it about Ms. Lonelyheart?”

“No, not them. It was about you.”

“Me?” she responded in a dramatic fashion. “I have you wondering about me.”

Ken had to hold off on eating the chocolate cream that was set on the end of his fork. Meanwhile, Lisa Carol ate slowly with her eyebrows raised in a teasingly arrogant manner. She knew she had her man on her fork as much as her pie. He wanted to know about her and she had the power over him.

“I am very interested in what you said last night,” Ken said, after Lisa Carol’s agonizing pause.

“About what I said regarding Ms. Flexibility?” Lisa Carol now had deviance in her voice, still in control of Ken. “Or about the toy?”

Ken shook his head. “Is what you said about other women true or just talk?”

“I thought that might trigger something.” She drove her fork through the sweet cream and then the chocolate pie filling and broke the soft pie crust.

“You were right. I haven’t been able to get it from my mind at all today.”

“Do you want it to be true?” She put the piece of pie in between her lovely lips.

Ken set aside his pie. “Yes. And I want to hear you tell how it happened.”

“I’m not sure you could handle it all.” She looked at the cast on his leg.

“Try me.”

Lisa Carol started to speak but something else caught her attention. She set down her plate and took the camera. Ms. Lonelyheart had just arrived home. She picked up the rose and a note at her front door and went inside. She set down the rose to peel open the small note. A moment later, she covered her mouth with her hand.

“She’s thrilled,” Lisa Carol said, as if ignoring Ken who wanted Lisa Carol to try him. “It’s working. She’s not going to be lonely too much longer.”

“But I want to know about you,” Ken said.

“I think you’ll want to know about this first.”

She confused Ken. “What’s happening?”

“Ms. Lonelyheart is skipping supper. She’s all dolled up. Oh, wow, she’s changing clothes.”

“Let me see,” Ken said.

Lisa Carol did not give up the camera. Ken was left with his naked eye. He turned his wheelchair for the view. Ms. Lonelyheart was wearing a light blue business jacket and matching skirt with a pink blouse. In her bedroom, she shed the jacket, leaving it on the bed, shimmied her narrow skirt down her thighs and then let it fall to her ankles. She stood in her bedroom, bare thighs, with a slinky blouse, as she rummaged through her closet. She brought out several outfit options. Ken thought no outfit could be better than only in her blouse.

She started to unbutton her blouse from top to bottom, tantalizingly slow. The shirt opened to reveal a white bra and her matching panties that had been hidden under the blouse.

“She’s got a toned body.” Ken’s thoughts came out of his mouth before he could stop them because of Lisa Carol.

She put down the camera and grinned. “Yes, she does. Nice curves. A great pair of tits. Nothing is as good as heavy breasts.”

Ken almost coughed up his pie when he heard that. He loved to hear a woman use those sexy words. A simple turn-on but it moved him in many ways.

“Want a closer look?” Lisa Carol asked. The request made Ken straighten up. “Watch her. Maybe she’ll take off her bra. Maybe even that tiny pair of panties.”

He reached for the camera, like a baby wanting a bottle.

“You don’t have grab to the camera that fast,” Lisa Carol said, lightheartedly.

Ken saw Ms. Lonelyheart in a lacy bra and the waist-high panties. Her narrow waist and her hips made her look like the actresses from the Golden Age of Hollywood, like Marilyn Monroe. Ms. Lonelyheart slipped the bra straps off her shoulders and unclasped her bra. Ken breathed in, waiting for the reveal. The bra fell off of her chest and she tossed it onto her bed. Her breasts swayed briefly.

Before he could exhale, Lisa Carol yanked away the camera.

“So sexy, yes! Did you see that? Her brown areolas. They are set perfectly on the ends of her tits. They are to die for.”

Ken looked at Lisa Carol after hearing her. She moved to the window and leaned on the window sill. She arched her back and pointed her breasts forward, like a swan.

“She just took off her panties, look!” Lisa Carol said.

Ken put the viewfinder against his right eye. He was amazed at the tuft of hair that had been hidden under the soft fabric. Ms. Lonelyheart disappeared into her closet, nude. “Wow,” Ken said muffled.


“You know,” he said, still looking through the camera. He was not going to miss her reappearance.

“Tell me what you like.”

Immediately returning to his mind was stubble. Lisa Carol had mention her like for it. Another pulse of pleasure shot through his already-tense body.

He was ready to speak when Ms. Lonelyheart stepped out of the closet. With her back turned, Ken noticed the two dimples just above her butt. She leaned forward to slide into a black halter top dress. The hem came above her knees. When she turned around, Ken saw how the top cupped her breasts.

Ms. Lonelyheart quickly slipped into her heels. They were out of view but likely were pumps. She was out of sight for a few minutes. Probably, powdering up in the bathroom. She came out and hurried out of the apartment with a small clutch in hand.

“She’s gone,” Ken said.

“Going out for a night on the town. I wonder if she’s going to meet someone.” Lisa Carol tapped her lips, darting her eyes right and left.

“What have you done?” Ken eyed her, skeptically.

“I am connecting two lonely people.”

“You’re teasing Ms. Lonelyheart. It’s all tricks and guise.”

She sat gently on the arm of Ken’s wheelchair. She stroked his hair. “Sometimes, lonely people need to be pushed out of their homes, out of their self-made cocoons.” She put her hands on each side of Ken’s face and turned it toward her. She looked into his eyes. “And for you I have come to break you out of yours.”

She helped Ken move from his chair to the bed. They worked his one-legged shorts and underwear down his legs. She ran her hands up his calves and thighs while grinning at his exposed dick. She shimmied her skirt up to reveal no panties. “Do you like?”

Ken looked down his chest to his waist. “There’s my answer.”

She maneuvered herself, legs split. Her hips set over him at a slight angle compared to his hips. She slid her fingers into her pussy to wet them and lube the entry. She lifted his engorged dick. Her hips lowered over him. He felt her softness encircle the tip of his cock. She couldn’t go too deep, because of his cast, so she humped tenderly, while balancing herself with one hand on the headboard and the other on his broad chest.

Ken raised up her skirt to see her flesh of her round ass go up and down, tightening and easing in rhythm. He gripped her cheeks to give her support. He squeezed his fingers deep into them, leaving red marks on her fine flesh where his fingertips dug in. Her planted hand on his chest marked her palm on him.

Lisa Carol eek sharply in her pleasure. The spasmodic squeak caused a jolt in Ken’s body, from his forehead to the head of his cock sheathed in her pussy. He arched his hip to go deeper into her. The power of desire overcame his pain from a broken leg. Lisa Carol groaned in her pleasure. They both began to huff quickly. Ken’s midsection slapped against her bouncing butt. He winced, gritted his teeth.

Lisa Carol steadied herself, grabbing the headboard. “Cum for me, I need it. All up in me, cum hard!”

A moment later, Ken met her demand. His jism shot deep into her. He pounded the bed, and Lisa Carol stiffened herself, with an orgasm of her own, flushing through her body. She remained steadfast, rigid as her body calmed. Slowly, she unsaddled Ken and his cock and laid next to him with her skirt raised like a tutu around her waist. Her body recovered from the sex. She enjoyed the warm goo leave her pussy and drain into her ass, tickling it. The pair rested, shoulder to shoulder, in the bed, letting their fingers intermingle. Soon, they dozed off.




Ken awoke with Lisa Carol at his side, naked and asleep. His digital clock showed it was just after midnight. He sat up and glanced out of the rear window over Lisa Carol’s soft breasts. None of Ms. Lonelyheart’s night lights were on in her apartment. No gray flickering light from the television. No low-light lamp. He knew she had gone out a few hours earlier, but she had not returned. It was obvious because the stove light was on in the kitchen. He laid back, and his eyes closed again.

He awoke to Lisa Carol’s bare back and the lovely hips and the uppermost of her ass. Her head was propped up on her hand causally, as she looked out of the window.

“Seeing anything?” Ken asked.

Lisa Carol twisted her head slightly toward Ken. “Ms. Lonelyheart is home.”

Ken sat up quickly but winced from the pain in his healing leg. He couldn’t see over Lisa Carol’s shoulder. 

“Did she bring anyone with her?”

“Yes, she did. With a tall man.” Lisa Carol kept staring out of the rear window. Ken noticed she had set the camera on the tripod so she could lay there and look through.

“Is he the one you set her up with?”

Lisa Carol giggled, her body jittering. “Not that I know of. I only gave a rose and a note. Her secret admirer was silent.”

“Your games are …”

Lisa Carol oohed and straightened on her elbow.

“What … what’s happening? I can’t see.” Ken urged her with a pat on her narrow shoulder.

“They are sipping wine on the couch. He just moved closer. And she set down her glass. They’re talking again. I like this.”

“What’s she wearing?” Ken asked.

“Ms. Lonelyheart stood up and is going to the refrigerator. Out comes another bottle of wine! This is getting good. I know she’s got to be excited. But maybe a little anxious. A fluttery heart. I know I would be.” Lisa Carol pushed her hair behind her ear.

“Does she have clothes on?”

“They’re sipping wine. They aren’t on top of each other—yet. She’s wearing her dark skirt and the same blouse she went out with.” Lisa Carol gasped. “Did I just see that?”

“What?” Ken tried to maneuver himself, so he could see and not be in pain or bent abnormally.

“Get this! She just undid a button when she was in the kitchen. Now she’s bringing back the wine and she’s bending over right in front of him. A little peek! Ms. Lonelyheart is hot, she’s burning up.”

“I want to see!” Ken said, like a little toddler.

Lisa Carol rolled over, twisting at her waist. Her breasts wiggled until the pair settled. Her nipples were hard and pointed toward the ceiling. He noticed a hint of intrigue in her eyes. She was seeing something intimate and liked watching.

“Can you see now?” she asked, slyly.

“Kinda.” Ken arched his neck.

“Uh?” Lisa Carol had given him a peek at her without a blouse or bra on, but he stared out of the window. She rolled over, blocking Ken.

Ken worked to leave the bed. Lisa Carol tried to prevent it. She snagged her nails into his butt cheek. Then, she brushed her butt against his semi-erection. That paused him. She paused her play though.

“He took her onto the couch. She’s on top of him. They’re play—No, they’re kissing now. It’s happening!”

Lisa Carol loved watching them. It made her own heart speed up. She touched her nipples at first. Then she cupped her breasts, thoughtlessly massaged them. She watched Ms. Lonelyheart and Mr. Lover dig deeper into each other. Ms. Lonelyheart’s neck straightened, as he placed kisses along it. His face disappeared into the open buttons of the flimsy blouse.

“She’s sitting up on him, unbuttoning her blouse. It’s wide open!” She leaned into the camera. “The blouse is off. She’s opening his shirt now.” She continued her commentary, while trapping Ken next to her on the bed. “Mr. Lover isn’t letting her bra stay on long either. I know when I’m making out and I let my shirt come off—woo, wee—my bra ain’t staying on long after.”

Ken began listening to Lisa Carol and drawing his attention away from the rear window. He remembered her comments the other day before she went down on him.

“He’s sucking on her titties,” Lisa Carol said with a gulp. Her hands were rubbing roughly against her gentle breasts. “Ms. Lonelyheart is loving this. I bet her eyes are closed and she’s loving to soak in the attention. My breasts are so sensitive. A tongue can do so many things to my body and my mind. She has some lovely tits. I wish I could …” She didn’t finish.

Ken did not want her to finish. “Could what?”

She looked over her shoulder. “Could have a larger pair of beauties, just a little larger.”

“Your breasts are perfect.”

“Aw.” Lisa Carol patted Ken’s face. Then she turned back to the window. “These two are going at it. It must have been a while, for her and for Mr. Lover too. She’s kissing his chest and … is she? She’s moving down, lower and lower. Unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants. These two … Wow! I never knew.”

“Knew what?”

“An apartment complex and a camera could be such a turn-on.” She looked through the viewfinder again. A moment later she began to speak quickly, with a throatier tone. “She’s just pulled out his dick. Long and hard. She’s got it in her mouth. Bobbing like crazy now. She knows what she’s doing. Twisting her head, stroking him all at the same time. He’s loving it. Making him sit up, grabbing the couch pillows. ‘Woman skills.’”

She continued to watch and suddenly gave advice. “Don’t let him get off. You need some pleasure. Make him work too.”

Like she was listening, Ms. Lonelyheart and Mr. Lover rose up. They moved into the bedroom, leaving the wine bottle and half-filled glasses.

“The bedroom, this is where it gets best,” Lisa Carol said. “Reminds me of the first time I let a man into my bedroom in my first apartment. He was tall and had this special aura, like he could take me to places I’d never been before. I happened to meet him at a bar. We had a few drinks and he was enamored with me. It was like he wanted to know all about me. I intrigued him. So that night I fed him. And he ate. My god, did he eat! That’s the night I learned when my blouse came off my bra would be off soon. More likely, all my clothing to shed.”

Lisa Carol glanced at Ken who she realized was hanging on each word of her memory. He had become a different sort of voyeur, just like she had become turned on by voyeurism. She watched people, like Ms. Flexibility, Ms. Lonelyheart, and now Mr. Lover. But Ken liked listening to her stories, reliving them as a second-hand voyeur. So she continued.

“I was wearing a pink silk chic oversized shirt. The fabric was so slick I came out of it fast. Not sure if it was the silk or him. Whatever did it, I had a great night. He kissed my lips, down my neck and each collarbone, my shoulders. He knew exactly where to kiss next. And he found the secret path to my love.” She cleared her throat at the thought.

In his ragged voice, Ken asked, “What happened next?”

Lisa Carol ignored his question. “Ms. Lonelyheart is straddling Mr. Lover’s ‘love.’” She giggled innocently at her humor. “She is loving this. Look at her move.”

“You’re loving her as much as she is,” Ken said.

“What we’re doing is dirty,” Lisa Carol said. But she didn’t pull her eyes away.

“Forget them. I want to hear about you,” Ken said, touching her shoulder. “So you let this guy come in your house and he takes off your clothes. And …”

“He had a good meal, yes, he did.” She giggled again but it was not so much innocent as it was raw and authoritarian. “He licked me, and he had a tongue that moved to all the right places. I got off so many times in that one night. Never before or …” She paused abruptly, remembering Ken.

“Keep going.”

Lisa Carol heard his urge forward and knew he really wanted it. She felt him push his hard dick against her ass.

“We left the couch and went to my bedroom, just like Ms. Lonelyheart. I worried whether my bedroom was neat enough for him. I didn’t want to have a man leave because of that.”

“And you learned a man who was being led to a woman’s bedroom would never leave if he sees some messiness,” Ken said.

“He didn’t care one bit. I only had a couple of large stuffed bears on the floor—you’ve seen them. He sucked my tits, like he would never get a chance again. Almost gave me hickies on both of them. His hands went everywhere on me. He frisked me and then he manhandled me. He held off on fucking me until I was almost ready to scream at him. He had power. When I felt his cock bump into my pussy, I grabbed it and aimed it and got it going.”

Lisa Carol’s voice slowed and became deeper. She let her fingers move to her wet pussy.

“We fucked hard and a long time. If not long, he made me cum so quickly that I didn’t care how long it lasted. I was worn out afterward, sexually plastered. Ever since then, I have been excited by the grunt of a man who’s on top, pressing his body on me, gritting his teeth.” Lisa Carol mmm’d. Her hand was playing.

Her enjoyment was interrupted by a cry echoing in the garden.

“Oh, fuck! My god, fuck me!”

The jazz music scratched off and the cat eeked.

“Ms. Lonelyheart?” Lisa Carol asked.

“Just got something she needed,” Ken said.

Lisa Carol stopped playing with herself and smeared her wetness onto the camera lens as she grabbed it.

“They are laid out flat on the bed,” Lisa Carol said. “Two tired lovers.”

“Oh, shit, shit!”

Lisa Carol saw Ken cum all over his chest, and then letting it ooze on his hand.

Lisa Carol rolled over to him. She dipped her wet finger into his cum and smeared it around his nipples. She stared into Ken’s eyes, like a wolf ready to attack. Her mouth spread into a grin. Then she licked his nipples and sucked. She let his hand rub her ass.

Soon, Lisa Carol opened her legs. She spread her sensitive lips open and pushed in her fingers. She stared at Ken and then at Ms. Lonelyheart, knowing what had just happened. It was all because of her.