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Peephole I

Although I have a great boyfriend, I like the freedom of living alone. Jeff (my boyfriend) lives about 30 minutes away, but stays over two or three nights during the week, and almost always on Friday, Saturday and Saturday nights. It was one of those lazy Saturdays in central Oregon; overcast and rainy. Jeff and I stayed in bed late making love in a slow and feel-good way until late morning. When we finally did get up, we lazed around the place and ate breakfast on my covered balcony. As we were finishing up, a big van pulled into our long driveway.

My apartment is in a big old mansion that has been converted into six units. I knew that the apartment behind mine was empty and that there were new tenants moving into it soon, but I didn't know anything about them. So, being the snoop that I am, I made Jeff stay out on the balcony with me while we waited for a glimpse of them. I think we were both interested in what they would be like, but all we could see at first was the top of the big 24-foot van. Then the couple got out of the truck and pulled the rear roll-up door open.

My first impression of them was surprise. The woman was wearing short cutoffs. I mean, "short" cutoffs. She had to have cut the pockets out of them, because you would have been able to see the white material hanging out if there had been any. I thought that that was kind of slutty, and it interested me. I looked over at Jeff and could see she had his interest. Looking back, I had my first sight of the husband. He was interesting too; one of those hard-bodied guys with smooth hairless skin and a light tan that looked like it covered his whole body, if you know what I mean.

They looked like they were in their mid-thirties, and obviously athletic. I began to hope that I might have a couple of new partners to run with me; they both looked like they were runners. I love to run for about 10 miles at dusk every evening, but Jeff keeps giving me the riot act about "women running alone on a deserted road at night". It would be great if I could get my new neighbors to go with me, I thought. It's more fun to run with someone, and even though they were probably 15 years older than me, I didn't think either one of them have any trouble keeping up.

With that thought in the back of my mind, I suggested that we get dressed and help our new neighbors move in.

We threw on our Levi's and just by coincidence, we each grabbed one of Jeff's company's black T-shirts that says "Structural Engineers Keep It Up Longer" and went down to introduce ourselves.

We noisily made our way down the spiral stairs two steps at a time, which is the way we normally descend from my crows-nest apartment. As we hit the bottom of the staircase we almost fell into the lady as she was coming though the door. She looked surprised at first, but after introductions and an offer to help, she quickly recovered pulling us by the arm outside to meet her husband.

"Peter! Look what we have here! Free labor, and they dress alike too!"

We got to know each other pretty well right from the beginning. Both Carmen and Peter are runners, just as I'd thought they might be, and I quickly found myself with companions on my evening jogs. Carmen and I ran every evening, and Peter joined us when he was home.

He works in the forestry industry as an inspector and has to spend at least one night a week out on the road, sometimes two or three nights depending on the time of the year.

Carmen and I quickly became close friends. The age difference made no difference to either of us. She confided in me as if I was her sister, and I found myself doing the same. She wasn't shy about life issues either.

They had moved into the apartment just behind mine. The lady who had lived there prior to them had been as quiet as a church-mouse. But once Carmen and Peter moved in I realized that you could hear every sound they made. Our bedrooms butted up against each other's.

(That lady who used to live next to me must have had some interesting nights listening to Jeff and me going at it. When I realize what she must have heard coming from my bedroom, I can't help but blush).

Carmen didn't have to work, but seemed very interested in my job. Doing research for a marketing company on the Internet is unusual for a full time job I know, but I didn't understand why Carmen was so interested in the details. Then one evening when we'd just finished our run, she finally came to the point.

She said, "I hope this doesn't shock you Kristen, but Peter and I were members of a swingers club based in Portland."

We were doing our stretching/cooling-off exercises outside in the yard when she told me that, and I have to admit she had piqued my interest. I had never met anyone that was into that sort of thing before. Carmen didn't wait for me to say anything, but forged ahead with a nervous quiver in her voice.

"You see, the reason we moved into the hinterlands of Oregon is because Peter was becoming jealous of the relationships I was having with other men. He was doing it with other women, but just couldn't take it when I did the same thing."

There I was - standing is a half crouch in mid-stretch - staring at this attractive woman, and fantasizing about her having sex with half the male population of Portland. I couldn't believe it. My mouth may have been open, I can't remember. But true to form, Carmen didn't let the silence draw out and quickly came to the point.

"The reason I'm telling you my little secret Kristen, is that you said you did Internet work, and well, I don't have a computer, and was wondering if I could use yours to do a little e-mail with old flames, and maybe download a few pictures."

That I understood. When I first started on the Inter-

net, it hadn't taken long before I was trading smut with other smut worshipers. Even though I got over the picture phase, I still dabble in erotic texts, and a newsgroup or two.

"Sure Carmen, any time you want to, my schedule is super flexible and you can use my computer whenever the urge strikes," I smiled knowingly.

She laughed at the smirk on my face and explained, "It's just that after all the sexual activity I'm used to, I need something extra to keep the intensity up.

Peter is a great lover, but I find that I still need a little external stimulation to keep the spice in our sex."

"No problem here, I do a little erotic story writing myself, Jeff and I read sexy stories to each other from time-to-time, and I know exactly what you mean." I felt that I did know what she meant, but as time would show, I was a real innocent compared to Carmen.

She took me up on my offer immediately; dragging me up to my bedroom office and making me log on. Once I log-

ged on to the Internet for her, I told her to be sure to shut everything down and that I'd be in the kitchen cleaning up if she needed anything.

She surprised me again by begging me to stay and meet her on-line friends. "I don't want to get into trouble with Peter, and I figure if you're here with me, it's more like us girls messing around than me surfing the swingers network," she pleaded.

I tried to make an excuse, but Carmen continued to plead with me to stay. Since I was curious anyway, I let her talk me into staying.

In short order, Carmen was book-marking sites I'd never heard of before; Real-time chat-rooms, and newsgroups.

She seemed to be well-known in the chat rooms, and had her own Hotmail account.

I was amazed at the amount of people she contacted in such a short time! And the things she said really opened my eyes! I guess Carmen wasn't exaggerating when she told me that she and Peter had been swingers. She went into one chat room, and at least four guys told her how much they missed her, and praised her attributes to the skies.

Well, after two hours of this I was shimmering. I'd never known anyone in real life who had had sex with so many people. I couldn't help it, I wondered how she stayed looking so good, when she must have abused her body with that kind of life style. Later that evening, I barraged Carmen with lots of questions about the swinging sub-culture. She seemed to enjoy answering even the most intimate questions, apparently both of them kept exact figures on how many people they'd had sex with. Still, Carmen shocked me when she told me that she had been with 312 partners over the past five years, and not all of them had been men.

Our relationship changed after that night. We shared our secret life - keeping what we were doing from both Peter and Jeff. I couldn't tell Jeff because he and Peter were becoming buddies, and I knew that Jeff would let something slip. and I didn't want to get Carmen in trouble with her husband.

Things went on about the same for a month or so. Carmen would come over to my place in the evening when Jeff wasn't there, and we'd submerge ourselves in this per-

verted world of swinging, cheating, sexual contact with other people who were actually doing it. Then about two weeks ago, after a particularly steamy evening of Internet surfing and chat; as Carmen was logging off she turned to me and put her hand on my leg and looked into my eyes searchingly.

I almost jumped out of the chair. I'd just changed into my running gear, and had my running shorts and tank top on. Her hand on my exposed thigh really made me feel funny. I'd been turned-on all night because Carmen had been having some really imaginative cyber-sex with "Prince" one of her favorites, so my nerves were already on end. I needed to run to wear off some of the sexual tension that had been building up in me.

Gently massaging my thigh, Carmen said, "I'd love to see you and Jeff make love to each other."

You could have literally heard a pin drop in the room as I sat there looking back at her pretty smiling eyes.

I was instantly aroused with fear. Up to that point, my sexual excitement had been unfocused. I had been a spectator. But now with this pretty "experienced older woman" rubbing my leg, and staring into my eyes, I knew that something exciting was about to happen, and I was finding it difficult to breathe.

All I could think of to say was, "Jeff wouldn't go for that, and what about Peter?"

"They don't have to know about it. I'm thinking about a little shared voyeurism. You can watch Peter and me as much as you want. You can even invite Jeff to watch if you want to."

I was still stunned, "How... I don't know Carmen, that's maybe a little over the top, don't you think?

I mean if we go down that road, mightn't we mess up a good friendship?"

Carmen looked worried, and quickly said, "Kristen, I would never jeopardize our friendship, honest. I've just been fantasizing about you and Jeff for months now, and after being with you so many evenings cruis0 ing the swingers pages, and, well. . . listening to you guys through the wall, you know, well I just thought that maybe we knew each other well enough for me to suggest something that I know would be fun is all."

The idea was gaining appeal to me. If we could arrange to do this without being caught, it sounded like a maximum rush the more I thought about it. I wasn't ashamed about sex with Jeff, and the thought of this good looking woman watching me enjoy my boyfriend was turning me on like a jolt of electricity, after all, it was just watching.

I smiled at Carmen and asked, "So if we did this crazy thing, how could we watch each other without the guys catching us?"

"Simple sweetheart; a peephole," she said.

"Huh? I thought you were talking about hiding in the wardrobe or something." I was confused now.

"A strategically placed peephole in our adjoining bed-

room wall. That way neither one of us will know when someone else is watching or not. It will heighten the sex act with our men every time." She was smiling radiantly at me now.

I was so wet by this time, I agreed with Carmen just so she would go home because I needed to relieve my sexual tension, and I wasn't ready for anyone to watch me do it. But she knew what I was trying to do, and she smiled and took my hand and pulled me gently over to my bed.

I knew what was happening, I just didn't know how to react. I wanted Carmen to leave, but I was so excited about the unknown. What was she going to do? I could actually feel my heart pounding in my throat, it was almost painful.

As I sat on the bed, Carmen knelt down in front of me and almost in a whisper said, "You'll like this! trust me, Kristen."

I looked down at my lap and noticed that the front of my shorts had a small wet spot on them. I couldn't believe how hot I was; nothing like that had ever happened to me before! Numbly, I watched as Carmen pulled the snap apart on the waistband of my clinging shorts. I continued to sit there as she pulled the zipper down.

As she began to pull at the waistband trying to remove my shorts, I realized that I didn't have any underwear on. I had a momentary flash of embarrassment at the thought of what Carmen would think when she saw I wasn't wearing any. Then the foolishness of that thought hit me full force! Here I was, being undressed by another woman, and I was worried that she would think I was a slut or something! I started to giggle a little hysterically at the incongruity of the situation.

Within seconds of that thought, Carmen had pulled my shorts off with a little help from me, leaving me naked from the waist down, still giggling, or maybe a better word would be sobbing.

I was so frightened that I didn't know if I was coming or going. Carmen gently pushed me backwards onto the bed, and placed my right hand between my legs. She whispered in my ear, "Honey, I want to see you come!

Bring yourself off for Carmen. Please come for me baby!"

Carmen took my hand in hers and began to rub it up and down over my pussy. I knew what was happening but all of a sudden I didn't care! The feelings that were rush-

ing through my body were absolutely wonderful! I began to masturbate myself in front of my pretty girl-friend, and it was good!

She lay beside me with her lovely face only inches away from my very lubricated sex. I willingly kept up rhythm, pushing the palm of my hand over my now swollen clitoris, feeling a gigantic orgasm begin to rise within my body. I heard Carmen moan softly, and I could feel her chin against my hip bone. I began to thrust my fingers as deeply inside myself as I could force them;

I was on fire.

"GOD, OH Goooooooodd!!"

The air rushed out of my lungs as I exploded, shivering and shaking in physical delight. In a detached way, I imagined that I was Carmen watching me come in front of her. I knew that my body was thrashing around under my handwork, and now her hand was there too.

As I came in long sobbing shivers, I felt both of Carmen's hands roaming over my open thighs and between my legs. I felt her lips kissing my inner thigh. The fabulous sensations seemed to go on longer than any orgasm I'd ever had before. As I felt a slowing of the spasms, and was about to relax, Carmen moved between my legs, forcing them wider and began to run her tongue over and around my hard, throbbing clitoris.

I couldn't take it... It was too intense, I started to scream, "NO, Carmen, NO, STOP, PLEASE STOP YOU'RE KILLING ME. . . GOD, YES!"

I had lost control. That had never happened to me be-

fore. Even in my most pleasurable orgasms, I'd always had some vestige of control. This time, Carmen had played me like a musical instrument, and my body was so sexually overloaded, I was close to blacking out.

Finally, either Carmen thought I'd had enough, or she was afraid that someone might investigate because of the noise I was making, and she pulled her mouth away from my crotch. (I can still remember how I felt at that moment. I was crying, my cheeks were wet with tears, and I couldn't stop sobbing.)

Carmen lay next to me on the bed and hugged me saying, "See how good it can be when someone is watching you?"

She was giving me that brilliant smile of hers, and slowly my sobs turned into giggles again, as we cuddled together on the bed.

I don't remember Carmen leaving that night. I fell asleep and didn't wake until eight o'clock the next morning. I was naked in my bed, with the covers pulled up to my chin. I had never felt better in my life.