The Audio Voyeur: Mia

For Mia: Wherever in this world you are…

…continued from The Audio Voyeur: An Introduction…

Sitting in her closet with incoherent pleasure smeared all over the palm of my hand like sweat, I slowly began stroking myself. I was leaning back against the wall, my pants unzipped so that I had access to everything between my legs.

Warming myself up and gaining my rhythm, she peeked her head into the closet. She said, he’s coming up, now. You sure you’re going to be okay in here? Just… be quiet. This will be hot…

Looking down from my eyes, she saw that my cock was out, erect and that I was stroking it. Mmmm, her glance said. She bit her lip sweetly and then left. Her steps lightly trailing out of the sun-soaked room.

Inhale. My confession swirled around inside me: This is where my audio voyeurism had lead me – to my next door neighbor’s closet.

*

My trail leading into my neighbor’s closet began in a forest, a few weeks prior, when I first heard her moaning through my walls. At first, I wanted complete anonymity. I wanted to keep her as my secret. That was, until I heard her in the hall.

One afternoon she was coming and going from her door. I heard men greeting her, then saluting her upon their exit. There were three, all total. Coming and going.

I leaned into the wall, to listen. But I couldn’t hear anything save for her ceiling fan on her apartment’s side.

But in those fast moments, when they were standing in her front foyer and at the opened front door, I deduced through the language that I was hearing: that my new neighbor is a call girl.

The blood rocketed through my body, propelled by everything dirty and seamy and forlorn about the human condition. Every dark want, need and lascivious desire swelled inside me. And I felt as though I was omnipresent, in the most guttural of alleys, the trashiest waste containers. I was submersed in the murkiest dins of secret sexuality and whoring and every pejorative word that I could think of.

Fuck. Shit. Whore. Cunt.

In this I knew, I had to do something about the swelling rage. The coming storm.

*

There was only a sheet draped over the door frame to her closet. From my dark hole, I could make-out shapes beyond, in the room. Fortunately the day was bright on this afternoon. It was pouring-in from the windows. I could see warm colors beyond the flowery sheet draped in front of me like a veil. In the light I made-out the shapes of her feminine bed, and of course, her feminine figure.

As soon as her client came into the bedroom, she began her slow seductive strip for him. I could see her sinewy, wavy underwater movements. I imagined her eyes bouncing toward the closet every now and then, knowing that I was stroking my cock just behind the veil.

Apart from the pitter-patter of her slow-dancing feet, I could hear their breath. His was low and long. Hers, short and playful; teasing. Together the symphony was an overture on the dance of sexuality.

Surrounded by her feminine clothes: shirts, skirts, short shorts and yes, panties – lacey things heightened my unintelligible bliss. With my mouth dry, I inhaled everything sexy and naughty and used and soiled and cum-stained and fouled with another’s man’s sex.

I heard her crawl up and onto the bed. The rustling of sheets like the melody’s bridge. With her little black panties, I was afforded a distinct line to find my sight – her hot equator. Beyond that I could make-out the curve in her ass – an arc which was more like the curvature of a planet more than a human’s backside. Gorgeous her ass was – every time I had seen it, it illuminated the notion that we may all very well carry more with us than just human sexuality. Looking at something so perfect emphasized the notion that we carry the sexuality of all cosmic flow: The Big Bang.

*

Mia was her name. It was a distortion of her real name, Ami.

I learned this within the first half an hour that we met.

I heard her exit her apartment that first day when her clients were coming and going. And with every naughty molecule in my body polarized toward her event horizon, I opened my door and, blind to reason, followed her to the elevator. At first I simply nodded at her. Then, when the elevator arrived, we stepped in together. I depressed the button and we were sent downward. As soon as the noise picked-up, I began:

I don’t want to alarm you, I said. But I think I know what you’re doing in your apartment. You’re in 316, right?

She looked at me and smiled, coyly. Without fear. Without pretense.

I said, I like what you’re doing. I just want to say that you should be a little more careful. You’ll get evicted. Quick. Our landlords are Christian.

She laughed. My name is Mia, she said. Or really, Ami. I use Mia with my clients.

I’m going back up to my place. I’ll be there all afternoon. I don’t have any more clients. You should stop by.

I said that I might. I’m going back to work. I smiled. I’ll see you later.

*

Mmm, I like the look of that, Mia cooed at her client. Did you bring that big gorgeous cock just for me?

From the closet I could only make-out the rough outline of her ass in the air. It wriggled in concert with her sweet words.

I pictured her looking down at his now-naked midsection.

Flip over, she said to him, teasingly.

Slowly stroking myself and trying to breathe silently, I saw her raise-up, allowing the client to turn onto his stomach. And for the first time I saw an abstract version of her tits, flower covered as they were through the sheet.

Trying to remain silent, the whole event was like a hand on my throat, elegantly restraining my breath and making my head light with each successive hushed exhalation.

The pronounced sexuality overflowing from this whole event coupled with Mia’s and my secret – heightened not only my senses, but this entire apartment building. Everything felt as though it were filtered through this flowery, sunlit veil.

*

Mia did not have sex with her clients. At most, she stripped for them and then gave them massages. Some came for baths and erotic conversation. Others came simply because they suffered from a side-effect of the human condition: they were as lonely as any human could ever be.

These men didn’t want sex. These men wanted a chance.

*

When I returned home after work that first day Mia and I met, I knocked on her door before I entered mine. Three seconds later and Mia answered.

She let me in and, at first, I didn’t hear any words – I just fixated on the couch. That carnal couch. Where all this began. That place of exquisite fucking.

Mia invited me into the living room and helped me to a seat – on the couch. But with revelation’s blue eyes and striking blonde hair – Mia was something more than just sex on a stick. As I would gather, she was kind, but just as lost and confused about the meaning of her life as any one of us. Yet she was incredibly present. She was paying attention.

The kindness in her gestures, the warmth in her hands, always exploded in a dynamic energy and symphony of light that always broke my heart.

Mia was wearing low-slung jeans with her panties visible over the waistline. Her pants were hanging on her hips in a most tasteful ways – not in that overtly pseudo-sexual manner that young girls do, in an effort to sling their sex into unsuspecting eyes. No, this was not her only attempt at winning her sexuality. No, Mia wore her sex all over her. She wore no over-the-counter perfume because her sex flowed from every pore in her – forever seducing the downwind men and suitors alike.

Typically I pride myself on being coy with my admiration. I never let a girl know when I’m looking. I always pretend that I’m not – if I don’t feel welcome. With Mia however, she promoted it – from second one.

She caught me glancing into her pants. She batted her eyelids at me, quickly tracing up and down my torso with her kind, but piercing look.

She said, do you want to see something? A dog bit me in the leg when I was in Cuba.

And then, she dropped her pants. Without hesitation.

Immediately the blood surged to my midsection as though I was no longer in control. Leaning over and prodding at her wound, she looked up at me, then down – her eyes fixating on the most-obvious bulge in my pants. And my eyes, fixating on her midsection and her panties – the way they cut the top of her thigh and tucked under to her hot, wet slit. Sure, I examined her bruised cut on her thigh along with her, but through her dangling arms I peered in at her gorgeous mound.

She looked up and into my eyes, then back down. Teasing me she was.

It was then and there that I wanted to say it – if I was ever going to say it at all: I heard you getting pounded by a cock and it was one of the hottest things I have ever heard. I heard it through my walls and that’s where this all began. I wanted to tell her that I used her as my sexual handcuffs, and for over a week and a half, I did something I had not done my entire adult life: not cum.

That was, I wanted to say: Until I heard you the next time, getting fucked into brilliant cosmic ecstasy. I wanted to tell her that was, indeed, The Big Bang.

*

Only twenty minutes later and Mia’s client left. Quietly she made her way back and into her room. To the closet. She pinned the flowery fabric up on the doorframe.

Did you have fun, naughty boy? She asked me as she looked down at my still-throbbing cock. Her eyes were consummate sexual energy, filling me full of everything lascivious.

She said, I want to watch you stroke your cock. Come out here, on the bed.

And so into the yellow room I went, my pants barely on. I crawled onto the bed, kicking-off my shoes. I rolled onto my back and reached down for my cock as Mia made her way to my side.

Here was the great unknown: here I had flown by the Oort Cloud and I was exiting our solar system. Anything, absolutely anything could happen now. This could be my Big Bang.

Mia gently pulled my pants down further below my knees while I continued to stroke myself with my still-incoherent pleasure as my lubricant.

That’s a good boy, stroke that cock, she purred. I want to see what we did to you…

Sitting next to me, she coached me into a climax.

She said, I want you to know that this was by-far the hottest session I’ve had in a long time. It’s very rare that a session turns me on. But after you leave today, I’m going to fuck myself on the couch and cum hard. I’m going to play with this idea for some time to come. There was something entirely delicious about all this.

I’m glad we did this, she said. I’m glad you were brave enough to bring it up.

That’s a good boy. You are so cute… Cum for me…

In all of this I didn’t want Mia to mount me or even touch me. No, this was altogether more gentle than that. In the pillowy light she urged me by purring and looking as sweetly at me as I have ever seen a girl. Pure and filled with light…

*

Mia and I spent many afternoons together in her sunny apartment, smoking cigarettes and telling each other about our convoluted histories. Sure she teased me with her sex – because she knew that I liked it, and maybe even more – I needed it. In return, with all my inaudible confirmations and physical melodies, I sang to her in a way that she was missing, and even more – needing.

I never told Mia about what I heard through the walls. And for the next several months I heard her time and time again, reaching beyond her beautiful agony and into that place where sexuality is something larger than fucking and words like naughty and cum and slut.

Mia used her sexuality as a tool: to pay her bills and sustain her walk through this life. But Mia also used her sexuality for other things that I never understood – but deeply wanted to.

I came to find tremendous joy in the time that I spent with Mia. However I was never sure if I wanted her, or how I wanted her. We never pressed our naked sex together. We did, however, hug every time one or the other came or went. We touched hands, when passing glasses of water to the other.

We looked at each other kindly. And smiled. We looked one another in the eyes, sometimes sheepishly as though we both had a secret.

Mia filled me in a way that I was in desirous rapture for.

Mostly we spent time in her apartment. Only twice did she come into my living quarters. Once, however, we did get outside.

One afternoon we walked to the coffee shop, arm-in-arm. I told her that I thought I may have a crush on her and she said, I know – I think I may believe the same about you. We ordered coffee and sat on a park bench and smoked cigarettes and laughed through our shared grief in the failing sunlight of a summer day.

Then, as quickly and secretively as Mia had moved-in – she moved-away. I never heard from her again. To this day, I miss those afternoons with her and above all else, I wonder about her welfare and which sunny rooms she inhabits.

I have always felt that, given more time, I could have fallen in love with Mia.

And at the end of things, in some cosmic way I have always been trying to catch up to the light that filled Mia and exuded from her every pore.

~ by The Provocateur on April 23, 2007.

15 Responses to “The Audio Voyeur: Mia”

  1. This story was erotic, but mainly beautiful….
    it was soul touching.
    I wish you had time to write more often.
    Your words take me places that photos cannot.

    Vous me stupéfiez _____________.
    xo.

  2. Inveterately sweet and nothing anodyne about the hotness.

  3. …i love you, z…

  4. you are a sexy writer…to be sure…thank you

  5. poignant words seeped with your unique sensually erotic passion… beautifully mesmerizing.

  6. Beautifully written, sad, and fascinating. And, because I adore watching a man stroke himself, extremely arousing…

  7. You have such a beautiful way with words. This tale was erotic, touching and wonderful.

  8. What I love, is that reading you, envelopes me….I become entangled in the scenario. I can imagine what you are writing about, taking place, that is what an amazing writer you are.

    xo

  9. One of the best written pieces I have read in a long time. The artful way you alternated between the present moment and the past ones leading up to it, the simple but powerful language, the imagery…..truly a mesmerizing post, equally sexy, sweet and dirty.

  10. The textures and pattern is really good. Erotic and sweet yet a tad bit sad. I didn’t think i could finish both parts in one sitting, but it flowed so well I couldn’t stop reading. Good work!

  11. You continue to amaze me. Don’t stop…

  12. You continue to amaze me. Don’t stop…

  13. To my favorite fellow exhibitionist: you’ve been dared to post your outtakes. See my latest post for details.

  14. hauntingly wonderful…thank you for sharing

  15. Lovely and moving. Thank you.

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