Line of Sight

I nodded, ingesting the news that he was both a vet, and a disabled one. I made a gesture with my glass. "Are you all healed now?"

He nodded, unaware or not responding to my ill-masked inquiry. You are not going to bed with him, I told myself. For once, myself agreed.

"Tell me about your watching."

It started the same day Michelle left, he said. Or more rightly, that night. Faced with nothing to do and crushingly depressed, he'd pulled up a chair to his bedroom window and stared out at the parking lot. He'd seen me come home from grocery shopping and idly watched me make three trips up and down the stairs to my apartment, realizing only as I'd disappeared inside for the last time, that I was his girlfriend's look-alike. Providentially, both the balcony and bedroom curtains were open that evening (Ken installed the vertical blinds in the bedroom only later, after I'd complained how much I disliked the existing blinds), and Michael had watched with growing interest over the next three hours, sitting upright in the chair as I appeared in the bedroom widow in my brassiere and had closed the drapes. He bought binoculars the next day.

"They weren't very good," he admitted sheepishly. "I grabbed the first ones I saw and rushed them home after work. 7x35," he said, explaining that 7 meant seven-power, and that 35 referred to the size of the lenses, or 35 millimeters. That meant nothing to me until he explained 7 power meant I would appear 7 times closer than I was; and 35 millimeters increased the light-gathering power of the binoculars, in this case, by 5, meaning I was brighter and clearer at the increased magnification. Two days later, he'd purchased a high-powered pair of binoculars from Carl Zeiss, the manufacturer.

"How powerful?" I asked, feeling unexpectedly squeamish.

He grinned sheepishly. "Very powerful. Variable 10 power to 50 zoom, 80 millimeter optics. I won't tell you how much I paid for them."

I felt myself blushing.

"How well could you see me?"

"Like I was standing right outside your bedroom window." He blushed prettily. "Like right there. I spent two days researching before I bought them."

"How much," I demanded.

He continued to blush and look away. "Twenty-two hundred dollars."

I gasped, spilling my drink. "What?" I croaked, wiping Diet Coke into my right thigh. "Why?" I blushed hard at his reproving look, and looked away. "That's an unconscionable amount of money, Michael," I muttered. More than I made in a month.

"Don't you think you're worth it?" he asked softly.

"No," I said immediately.

"Well, I do." He sat his glass of soda on the end table to his right, stood up, walked to the far side of the coffee table from me, and extended his hand.

* * *

I did not cheat on Ken. What I did, and continue to do is unconscionable enough, but I did not, and have not cheated on Ken. During our time in my bedroom before the open window, I asked and was told the rest of the story.

"How can you see me in the dark?" I wanted to know. I was on my back, legs drawn up with hands behind my knees, having my colon fucked. Ken slid the length of the dildo in and out of me, each time making me wince and gasp as the head went pop into my colon.

"That's a recent addition," he said. So far the perfect gentleman, he had touched nothing but the handle or the shaft of the dildo as required, never touching me. I had told him of my three enemas earlier, and his only comment, rather chivalrous under the circumstances, I thought, was that he appreciated that I'd used his kit instead of mine. I hadn't told him yet of my night with Lex and John, or that I had named them.

"Tell me," I said as he pressed the guard right against my anus, letting me enjoy the 24" inside. I didn't dare consider what I might do if he pushed it in farther, though I knew I'd let him. The truth was, I'd let him do anything to me he wanted.

"I work for the state police."

I nodded, already knowing this from earlier.

"They have some amazingly specialized equipment."

I nodded again, wincing as the head snuck out of my colon and then withdrew to my anus, where he held it a moment enticingly. I'd offered to let him experiment on me with the big burly sword, and he'd graciously said no. I liked him more and more.

"It sees in both available light and infra red, meaning I can see you even with the bedroom light out."

I nodded, wincing as the head penetrated again and continued up my colon. "Did Michelle ever do this?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Michelle wasn't into anal." Which meant he'd gotten the idea from watching me.

"Go on."

He went on, though not in the concept I'd meant. When I was fully imbued again, he said: "It's 6^th generation, though I don't expect that means much to you. It images to a monitor I have set up on my desk in the bedroom. I can see you as plain as day in here, though not with the magnification I get with the binoculars. Only 8 power. But the optic is 120 millimeter, meaning the image is crisp enough for me to zoom you on the monitor. I can see everything I want to," he said, laughing wryly.

I thought my face would melt with embarrassment. I wondered if his fancy State Police gizmo could tell when I blushed, and how deeply. I didn't ask.

"So you couldn't see me last night," I guessed.

He shook his head, disappointed. "What did you do?"

I shook my head, choosing to keep that little escapade a secret. I made up for it by inviting him to fuck me with Jacob and Edward and Emmett, and later with Lex and John, which he did with extreme enjoyment and enthusiasm. I even enjoyed the Christmas tree.

This was six months ago. I've since moved, following Ken to his new job in Baltimore with the fire department. Ken first met me when my student duplex burned down in Alexandria in 2009. Against department regulations, he put me up with a friend and then married me 18 months later.

He works fewer nights now, but he's away for longer stretches of time, usually two or three nights in a row. Tonight is the first of a 3-night gig. I look at the bedside clock. 1:08 AM. Any minute now the doorbell will ring and Michael will enter carrying a backpack over his shoulder. Inside will be Lex and John and Emmett and the two very long dildos, plus whatever goody he's picked up for me tonight. I am happily buzzing away with Jacob and Edward inside me, my two fine friends.

Headlights appear. I smile and look out the window and watch the familiar Camaro approach and then back into a space across the lot. I wave, knowing he can't see me but not caring. He knows I wave. He knows I'm waiting in here, smiling happily.

THE END