Through the Peephole

This story is inspired by one of Submissy’s many fabulous photos. I wanted to take this snapshot and imagine what it would be like to observe the two characters (photographer and subject) from an outside perspective, in this case it’s Albert who sees them in the lobby of a hotel and imagines who they are and what their lives might be like.

Albert was sitting in the hotel lobby sipping on a sub-par cup of coffee when he first noticed the couple as they were checking in. He was instantly drawn to them, but he couldn’t really put his finger on what it was about them that was so interesting. They were just an ordinary couple checking into a hotel. He often found himself daydreaming about the lives of strangers he noticed on his travels.

He traveled often for work, and it could be quite lonely sometimes, bouncing around from city to city, staying in nondescript hotels, and watching bad cable TV. He’d always try to connect with someone via the various dating sites he was on, but it was a rare occurrence to work it out. He knew he wasn’t the best looking man out there, he was a middle aged man with a glowing bald patch on the back of his head and a soft middle section, but he still felt he had something to offer to the ladies. He was funny and creative, he was well-read and he thought he was a good conversationalist, but it was hard to portray that through a meager online profile. So, instead he would imagine an exciting life lead by a stranger, imagine that he would somehow be a part of that life, and that it would change him and make him more exciting to the outside world.

The couple wasn’t old or young, they weren’t overtly glamorous, but they were both good looking. A cascade of silky dark brown hair flowed down the back of her red wool coat. Maybe that’s what drew him in, the bright red coat? It stood out against the bland lobby decor, and it popped against her perfectly white skin, like that of a ghost, it was almost translucent. He imagined tracing his fingers over the blue green veins on her arms, and he dared to envision snaking them up over her shoulders to her chest and tickling her there. Her husband, he assumed they were married, was tall with striking blue eyes that seemed always locked on her.

That was it, he thought. That was why he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. There was a connection between the two of them that was incredibly intense, they seemed to almost lean into each other, like two trees that have fallen slightly and now rely on each other for support. Albert could almost see the electricity bouncing from the man’s hand to the small of her back, where he gently guided her towards the elevators. He easily carried their luggage in his other hand, a rolling suitcase and a duffle back placed on top. He wondered what was in that duffle bag, there were odd shapes protruding from it’s sides, different than if it was filled with soft clothing or a couple of pairs of shoes. His mind raced with ideas, but soon the couple stepped into the elevator and disappeared. Albert quickly turned his thoughts to the other hotel guests, but the couple kept sneaking their way back into his mind.

After a second cup of coffee, Albert made his way up to his room. It was unfortunately located near the elevators, so he could hear the chime of the doors over the television. He was slightly annoyed by this, but he wasn’t the type to complain or ask to change rooms. He showered and settled in for the night, propping the pillows up on the bed so he could lay back and watch TV. He’d picked up a microwaveable dinner to eat in his room since he had an early meeting and wanted to be well rested. It was his usual routine, and he was quite okay with that.

It wasn’t long after he finished his dinner that he heard the elevator ping. Out of curiosity and probably a bit of boredom, he went to the door and peeked through the peephole. He heard voices and laughter, sweet and high, it tinkled like breaking glass. It was a beautiful laugh and he waited at the door to see who it belonged to. A red coat came into view. The couple he’d noticed in the lobby was standing in the doorway of the room across the hall. Albert pressed himself harder against the door to try and get a better view through the tiny hole, his breathing shallow so as not to disturb the scene he was witnessing. Her husband reached around and put the key card in the slot but hesitated before pushing the door open. She turned to face him, slowly looking up into his eyes, a wide smile decorating her face. The man reached up and stroked the base of her neck with his fingers then grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling it down, her face raising to his as he kissed her deeply. Albert’s cock stirred in his boxer shorts, and he reached down and rubbed it over the thin fabric. Then they disappeared into their room, and Albert was left there feeling silly. It was just a kiss, why did it affect him so?

Albert flopped back down on the bed, his mind went back to that duffle bag, and he continued to softly rub his half hard cock through his underwear. He muted the TV so he could really focus on the fantasy that was forming in his mind. The woman bent face down over the bed, the man pulling her hair, harder this time, as he entered her from behind. Albert reached inside his shorts and began to stroke himself leaning back into the pillows. It was then that he thought he heard a sound. What was that? He paused momentarily. Maybe it was the ice machine down the hallway or someone turning off the shower water? He heard it again, and went to the door, pressing his ear up to the crack to get a better listen. It was unmistakable then. It was a slapping sound, rhythmic as a metronome, each stroke followed by a moan, a chirp really, high pitched like the keys on the far right side of a piano. The duffle bag! He reached for his cock, now his imagination going places it had never been. The woman leaned over the bed her head tilted back, mouth open, the man with a whip in his hand, the red pink marks splashed over her perfect white skin. He’d never seen anything like it in real life, never even watched a porno featuring this kind of act. It was only the thoughts in his mind that kept him pressed against the door, fisting his cock wildly.

He was just about to cum all over the inside of his shorts when he heard a different sound. A subtle click. He quickly moved so that he could see through the peephole, holding his breath. There she was, standing there looking forward towards his door, arms braced against the door jamb and a slight look of embarrassment mixed with pure arousal on her face. She was wearing a corset, the kind that dips down in front so that her breasts were fully exposed to his gaze. She was also wearing thigh high stockings, shiny black stilettos, and gloves that came all the way up her arms. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life. He held as still as he could, like she was a butterfly that might alight at any moment and flutter away. He wanted to take in every detail of her, the heaviness of her breathing, the way her hair flowed across one shoulder, her parted lips red and abused from rough kisses. She looked across at his closed door, and he felt like she could see right through it to him, like she was looking at him and judging him for seeing her this way. He wanted to reach through the door and touch her, to run his hands over her small pink nipples jutting out sharply against her thin white skin, he wanted to feel the softness of her bare cunt lips on his fingers, he wanted to be able to give her the kind of pleasure that would arouse those lovely sounds, the squeaks and peeps that sounded like music.

She stood there only for a moment and then stepped back into the room and closed the door. Albert finished right there at the peephole, pitifully jerking his cock against the hardness of the door wishing it was the softness of her. He didn’t get much sleep that night. He stirred with every sound, wondering if it was the mysterious couple across the hall, imagining the spectacularly filthy things they were doing to each other only a few feet away. He didn’t get up and go back to the peephole for the rest of the night, as if looking again would make it as though it wasn’t even real. He awoke the next morning, earlier than usual, and rushed to the door to look through the peephole, but it was only an unremarkable closed door that he saw across the hall.