The Neighbor Experiment – Chapter One, The Window

As her mind wandered down into the streets and the stories there, her eye caught a light in the building directly opposite. The building was as old as Marco and Julie's, but while theirs had been converted into affordable apartments with cheap fixtures, the building opposite was one luxurious loft to a floor, inhabited by those bankers and lawyers on the opposite end of the tax bracket. Now she realized that the fifth-floor penthouse, with its plate-glass windows (and the roof garden above with its subtle lighting), was directly in their line of sight. The cavernous central room was brightly lit tonight, as was the adjacent bedroom that also looked out onto the street. In the main room an elegant couple was sitting at a large wooden table, apparently just having finished what Julie imagined had been a sumptuous dinner. Not omelets, in any case. A slim maid was clearing the dishes from the table as the woman leaned back in her chair and lit a cigarette. The man stood, came around the table, and placed a hand at the back of the woman's neck to gently massage it. At this small show of intimacy, Julie realized that she was staring and was suddenly conscious that if she could see the couple so clearly, then surely they could see her too. She moved to hide herself behind the wall between the apartment's two small windows, then felt doubly foolish for catching herself at being such a voyeur. That's when the slim maid came out again and said something to the couple. "Will that be all, Mr. and Mrs. Something?" Julie murmured under her breath. And no – apparently that would not be all.

"Come over here, Marco," Julie heard herself whisper just a minute later, her eyes wide with surprise. The maid had come out again as Mrs. Something had smoked and Mr. Something had rubbed her neck. She was pretty, the maid, with long black hair and pouty lips that made her look almost sullen. Tall but very thin in her uniform: black shoes, sheer black stockings, a crisp black skirt cut above the knee, and a white cotton shirt buttoned all the way up to her neck. The woman was smoking, her dark, golden hair sweeping down over her back. In profile her features looked sharp and haughty but very beautiful from Julie's distance, and her pearl-colored dress was wrapped tightly around a slim, tanned body that the woman almost seemed to wield, rather than inhabit. Even the way she imperiously smoked her cigarette indicated that this woman was accustomed to getting absolutely anything she wanted. The man Julie assumed to be her husband rubbed her neck as if trying to soothe a wild tiger, as if aware of her danger but supremely confident of his capacity to tame it. He was tall, with a head of wild, dark hair flecked with gray, a blunt Roman nose, and a rich tan. His white shirt was open at the collar under a dark blue suit that accentuated a lithe, athletic body. Julie estimated that they were both about forty, impossibly wealthy, and utter strangers to the sort of worries that consumed her.

For one, they had a stylish maid (was she Latina?)…who had apparently done something wrong…who was now being ferociously upbraided by the man…whose hands had flown up to her mouth to stifle a scream…who was now being dragged over to the table by the man, her face pushed down to the wood by one of his strong hands as his other hand moved slowly up her long thighs to flap up her skirt over a surprisingly shapely ass…who now cried out and clamped shut her eyes as the man drew back and neatly spanked her with one sharp, quick flick of his palm…as the elegant woman sat watching everything while placidly smoking her cigarette.

"Come over here!" Julie whispered this time, as if she might be heard by the distant threesome. Through her thin robe she was distractedly clawing the flesh at her hip, although she did not feel it. Marco must have registered the shift in her voice and rose from the computer to join her at the window. First he impatiently looked down to the street, but when she gave no indication of what he was meant to be seeing, he followed her eyes out to the windows directly across. The woman had dashed out her cigarette in an ashtray and had risen to stand beside her presumed husband, who had snatched the maid's white panties down to her knees and was leaving red patches across her twitching bottom with his palm. The maid did not attempt to resist. Her torso writhed on the dining table, her dark hair wildly spread over the polished wood, her succulent ass thrust out as if conscious of deserving the punishment…or as if she wanted to be hit, Julie thought to herself. She felt a hand grip her wrist. Marco was standing beside her, and she couldn't remember how he had gotten there. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Do you see that?" she breathlessly responded, unwilling to pry her eyes from the scene. The man had leaned over to deeply kiss the woman in the pearl dress as his hand continued roughly fondling the gap between the maid's legs. Then he removed the offending hand and used it to pry their kiss apart, offering his presumably moistened fingers to the woman's mouth. She violently sucked at his index finger, as if inhaling the marrow from its bone, then roughly pushed him away and spanked the maid with a stroke of terrifying force. "Oh my god!" Julie cried in shock. "What should we do?"

Marco gripped her wrist tightly and pulled her away from the window. "What the hell are you doing?" he repeated once they were mostly hidden behind a solid wall. He did not look at her, however. His eyes remained fixed on the scene opposite as he clumsily tried to keep his and Julie's bodies hidden. "I want to see!" she cried, struggling against his grip. Marco didn't appear to have heard her. At least not until he said: "Turn off the lights."

Julie scampered over to the switch and plunged them into darkness. Marco tentatively edged out towards the window again. He was being ridiculous, Julie decided, and so she returned to her spot with the clear view. The man had unzipped his pants as the woman in the pearl dress spanked the maid. Working his hand into his fly, he had pulled out a slab of cock that was hardening and stood straight out. As he watched the woman in the pearl dress efficiently hitting the writhing maid, he fondled himself. Then the woman leaned over and whispered something in the ear of the maid, who turned her head on the table to look at the woman and nodded numbly. The woman then kissed the maid tenderly on the cheek and helped her to stand. She took her in her arms and kissed her deeply, for an instant, before ripping the front of her shirt open with a violence that sent buttons pinging across the room – scattered specks of light from where Julie and Marco stood. The maid wore no bra. Her breasts were small but pert. Julie imagined that her nipples were so hard they ached.

"I guess she likes it," Julie said incredulously. When Marco made no response, she looked over and saw that not only was he transfixed by the scene, but it had made him so hard that his cock was peeking out of his underwear. She noticed this, gulped, and said: "Show me your cock, Marco." She couldn't remember the last time she had been so excited. He glanced at her guiltily, as if she had just caught him looking at porn. Then he frowned and pulled his boxers up over the tip of his flesh.

"Fine," Julie said coolly, unbolting her robe and flicking it from her shoulders so that it fell to the floor and left her naked before the window. She was swimmingly wet. She put a tentative finger to her pussy and felt the wetness there. Marco looked at her disapprovingly and broke off from the window to drag two folding chairs over to where they stood. He did it quickly, as if he didn't want to miss a second of the movie.

The maid had taken the man's cock deep into her mouth. He held her hair in his fist and pulled her even closer. The woman in the pearl dress had stripped to her underwear, in unison with Julie, to reveal an almost boyish body with narrow hips, small breasts (as tan as the rest of her) and long, sharp lines. Still in heels, she had lowered herself to her knees and was now on all fours behind the sucking maid. Like a dog, Julie thought disgustedly. The woman alternated between licking from behind at the joint of the maid's spreading legs and drawing back to slap her crimson ass with what seemed like genuine fury. "It's awful!" Julie cried. "Forcing her by the hair like that? And hitting?" She looked over at Marco for confirmation. Now sitting on the chair beside hers, he had lowered his underwear to his knees and was frantically stroking himself, as if in a trance. She felt a stronger wave of disgust rise up from her gut. This caused her to look down at herself, and she was astonished to discover that her fingers were dipping into her drenched cunt as frantically as Marco rubbed his cock. She was no less disgusted by this, but the feeling of disgust was no longer so important.

After that she didn't give it another thought. Maybe these people shouldn't be acting like this. Maybe she shouldn't be watching the shocking things they were doing. Or maybe none of it mattered. She fondled her pussy with abandon, spreading her lips with one hand while stroking her clitoris with the other. When the woman crawled up next to the maid so that her mouth could share the taste of the man's thrusting member, Julie actually felt her mouth water. The two women licked at it from either side – the maid looking terribly distraught, Julie noticed, but licking with even more abandon than the other woman. Soon she had again pulled up the maid to furiously manipulate her cunt while kissing her deeply. The maid swooned in either direction, as if she was drunk. Then she was forced down on the table again by the woman, her ass in the air. The man watched all of this as if he were a film director coldly observing the performance of a scene he'd written himself. When the sleek woman grabbed him by the cock and led him over to the maid's offered ass, however, he followed without protest and rammed his cock so deeply into the maid's bared gap that the poor girl banged the table with her fists. "Oh fucking fuck me, Marco!" Julie cried, one hand now pinching fiercely at a nipple.

Read the full story here. Republished with permission from The Sex Experiment. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo courtesy of Sex & Submission.