The 46th Floor by J. D.

The 46th Floor
by J. D.

Price: $1.99
BIN: 05841-01873
Word Count: 4K
Page Count: 13
Genres: Erotic Short Story, Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, Ménage, Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary)

Release Date: July 27, 2012
Editor: Katriena Knights
Copy Editor: Pat Sager
Line Editor: Lacey Savage
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland

Jerry finds just what he's looking for -- spying on his neighbors from the 46th floor.

Jerry has been watching his neighbors through a telescope from his apartment on the 46th floor, and he likes what he sees. Apparently, they do, too.

 

Available From:

 

Razor’s Edge Press
A Changeling Press LLC Imprint
The 46th Floor
J. D.
All rights reserved.
Copyright (c)2012 J. D.

 

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Razor's Edge Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

 

Adult Excerpt:

I like to watch people, and from the 46th floor, the city is a smorgasbord of life. Below, the streets writhe with activity: people walking, some running, bumping into each other, jamming the sidewalks with humanity in all its shapes and sizes, the differences making life interesting. Police cars scream by, sirens blaring, competing with mad taxi drivers honking their horns, squeezing into gaps, trying to get there faster, trying to make more money.

Then, raising my gaze, I look up at all the windows in the office buildings and the people in them, working on important projects -- important to them, anyway -- some busy, some daydreaming, some arguing. I think of it as a giant movie screen full of characters I might never know, and who will never know me. It's a big mystery, and I can watch it anytime I want from the 46th floor.

I'm from Orange County, California, currently residing in a Chicago high rise because of a recent promotion. It came with corporate stock options and a raise in salary. If you look between the other high-rise condos surrounding my building, you get a partial view of Lake Michigan. All of us high-rise dwellers have floor to ceiling windows in every room, and the curtains are rarely closed. Some of the windows have telescopes perched near the glass, a good alternative to the never-ending television, I guess. I've seen a lot of my neighbors in private moments, framed in their easy access windows, and nobody seems to mind. But when I saw her dressing in her bedroom last week, I went down and bought my own telescope.

I found out later that her name is Estelle, and I think I need to mention that at the beginning as I describe the first time I saw her through the scope.

That Friday I rushed home from work all excited to set up the new telescope and try it out. It unpacked easily, and I had it up and running in less than thirty minutes. Adjusting the tripod was the trickiest part, but once I figured it out, I was able to look directly into her place while sitting on a barstool in my living room. The magnification was so powerful I could read the titles of the books stacked on her bookshelves.

I sat waiting for her to return while I sipped the first Scotch and soda of the day. As I waited, I thought of what I had seen so far without the telescope. She was tall, at least six feet in her stockings, and she liked to wear her flowing, shoulder-length, black hair free and easy. She was trim and lean like a volleyball player. She wasn't afraid to walk around in full view of the open windows dressed only in her underwear. The Scotch burned my throat, as I thought about what she might look like underneath the white bra and panties she wore the first time I saw her. Darkness fell, and still I waited for her.

After the fourth Scotch, I gave up and decided she must have gone away for the weekend. Now I had to make a choice. Did I want to call it a night, or watch a movie? I opted for the movie. Stripping down to my boxers and then donning my pajama top, I pulled on my terrycloth robe and fixed just one more Scotch. Now, as I sat in front of the TV reviewing the X-rated, pay per view movies, I had another choice to make. Should I watch College Girls Wild and Wet, or Busty Babes in Heat? Easy choice for me. The first busty babe was on the screen when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Estelle's lights come on.

She was in the living room with what appeared to be an older guy. I quickly hopped on the barstool and focused the scope in on them. The man was in his mid-fifties, with a stocky build and short, salt-and-pepper hair. They were dressed casual -- must have been out for a late dinner.

I focused on her beautiful face as the man left the room. Her face was long, like her body, with a prominent, finely shaped nose that pointed the way to her luscious, full lips. She walked to the windows, staring out into the city with deep brown eyes that seemed to know something secret. Shaking her head slightly, she let her shiny black hair fall freely to her shoulders, and then she slowly began to unbutton her sleeveless blouse...

 

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