When she rents an ocean beach house along the Georgia coast, overworked photographer Anastasia Hunter finds the peace and serenity she craves. Until she observes her next-door neighbor performing his morning ritual, that is.
Quickly she grows obsessed with the activities of the handsome stranger, and before long, her camera is back in action, capturing from afar every salacious moment for her personal viewing pleasure.
But what will happen when she meets him face to face? Will he discover her addiction to voyeurism? And if so, will he have her arrested, or will he retaliate in a different and pleasurable way?
His brow momentarily creased in concern. “Let me ask you a question, Ana -- after repeating the same routines day in and day out, did you ever just want to break from the norm and do something completely different, or perhaps just nothing at all?”
“Of course,” she replied, sitting on the sofa across from him. When his gaze briefly touched on her cleavage, she tingled in delight. “And there’s no reason to feel guilty for putting yourself first every once in a while. That’s the very reason I rented this house. My job grew so all-consuming, not leaving me a moment to relax and simply enjoy life. I just had to get away from it all.”
“Then you do understand. Good, good ...” Looking somewhat mollified, he nodded and drew another sip of his lemonade.
“Oh, I understand, all too well.”
She found herself telling him about the stress of being a well-known photographer for a popular magazine, how the constant rushing from one location to another without a break in three years had finally taken its toll on her mental health. She did hold back from adding that because of her hectic lifestyle, she had never been able to forge a lasting relationship with a man, nor could she recall the last time she’d been laid.
“So as you can see, I, too, needed to do something different for a change, Beau. To break away from the norm before I went utterly insane. To concentrate for a time on my needs.”
The wicker chair crackled as Beau rested back and sighed. By now, the lines of worry had completely vanished from his intelligent brow. It pleased Ana that her words had helped assuage his feelings of guilt for playing hooky. It also pleased her that he seemed as relaxed in her presence as she felt in his.
They engaged in cheerful small talk for the next fifteen minutes -- or fifteen years -- Ana couldn’t quite be certain. Beau’s robust good looks and healthy physique completely mesmerized her, while his affable smile and the rich, dulcet tones of his tenor acted as a tranquilizer to her soul. It seemed like forever since last she’d shared the company of such an enchanting man, let alone one this drop-dead gorgeous, and she quickly found herself floating on a cloud of undisturbed bliss.
She came crashing down to Earth, however, when he twisted sideways to place his empty glass on a nearby table, then sat back in his chair. What unsettled her, at least momentarily, was that because of Beau’s movement, she could now see one of his balls peeking out from the leg of his cutoff jeans, as if attempting to escape the material’s overly crammed confinement.
It took all of Ana’s willpower to not stare at the large, furry testicle, when all she had yearned to do for the past three weeks was lovingly taste it, along with its partner. Renewed images of Beau’s morning ritual flashed through her mind, a kaleidoscope of lustful moments captured on film, photographs Ana had studied while masturbating at least once every single day ...