Erotica Harem

Hi, Jon! I saw your question about your story so I decided to check it out!

Title:

Voyeur - Part 1 - Revised 4/12/08  (XGC) Kevin spends evenings on a highrise balcony gardening; spots a young man across the way. #1401810 by Jon Michaelsen...

Author: Jon Michaelsen...

Plot:
Kevin is a young man and very depressed. He has a good job with a good friend Alice, but his life is still lonely. Then one night, while standing on the balcony outside his apartment he sees a young man in an adjacent building that Kevin finds to be extremely attractive and well-built.

He begins to obsess over the guy, and consequently, his work suffers, because he is intent on seeing more of this man. He even buys a pair of binoculars to get a better look at the guy, even though he realizes that he’s become a peeping tom.

Style & Voice:
The story is in 3rd person from Kevin’s POV.

Referencing:
We’re in present-day Atlanta, so the dialogue and surroundings are appropriate.

Scene/Setting:
No problems noted but there were some interesting word choices. See my line-by-line below.

Characters:
Kevin is the main character in this story, and his friend Alice is secondary. Jon has described Kevin very well, as being sad and lonely, which is why he obsesses over this handsome guy so quickly.
We don’t know much about Alice. She is Kevin’s only friend at the office, but we’re not given any indication that she knows Kevin is gay. We don’t know much about Alice at all. I don’t know if she will become a peripheral character, but if she remains secondary, we should know a little more about her.
The object of Kevin’s obsessions is peripheral only. I’m sure we will find out more about him later!

Grammar: See line-by-line below:

“Cheer up, Kevin. It’s Spring!”

Kevin looked up from the flat screen monitor of his computer. “What now, Alice?” He loved his co-worker, about the only friend he had at the office, but at times, she annoyed him.

She smirked and ignored the friendly jab. “Honestly, Kev. You should get out more. You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”

He forced a smile. “Well, if anyone around here knows how that feels, it would be me.” He rifled through a stack of financial statements scattered across the surface of the desk. “It’s not been a good day. If I can’t get these spreadsheets to balance before the Stutman meeting next week, I’m screwed.”

“Correction,” she said, and moved behind the desk. “We’re screwed.”

He flicked off the screen. “How ‘bout lunch?”

Alice moved with him to the door. “I thought you’d never ask.”
You repeated this word too close to one another. Perhaps ‘…and stepped behind the desk’?
***

The warmer temperatures and longer days of April awakened a dormant nature. Spring permeated the air and Kevin relished every moment of the city coming to life. He couldn’t wait to get home from the office each day before the sun faded. He often spent much of his time on the balcony of his twenty-eighth floor condo in his garden. The cultivation of an array of clay-potted plants amounted to no more than an urban collage of colors, both brilliant and full. He took great pride in his hobby, often well into the night. A pastiche of Carnations and Dandelions filled every inch of soil in the pots. Not one to gloat, he possessed the proverbial “green thumb”.

Kevin is the only person, fiction or non-fiction, that will boast he has a green thumb growing dandelions!?!? I would suggest putting a flower or something other than a weed, Jon! LOL

It was mid-April when he noticed him for the first time, the man of the adjacent high-rise a block away, on the floor of the penthouse. The building was a couple floors shorter than Kevin’s. Poised behind a giant palladium window, he sipped a beverage and stared out across the western horizon. [Is this Kevin or the guy he’s spying on?] Molasses streaks of the sun's rays lamented across his shirtless torso, casting a halo often seen in sultry scenes of a Hollywood movie. [This is where I got confused. Molasses is a very dark liquid, so I can’t see how it can be used to describe the sun’s rays. And lamented usually means rued or regretted. I’m not understanding what you are wanting the reader to see here, Jon. Sorry. ]He raised his free arm and pushed fingers through a mess of dark curls. The ringlets of hair fell about his face as he let his hand travel along the back of his neck and around to his chest. He drained the last of his drink and rested a hand on his stomach, toned and defined by youth.

Fearful the guy would notice, Kevin kneeled and peered over the foliage of his garden. True to form when presented with such a tantalizing image, the beauty of another young man, he began to perspire. Within two minutes his body absorbed soaked his cotton shirt. He wiped his hands on the back of his shorts, careful not to tip backward and risk discovery. Heart palpitating, he remained transfixed, staring over the pageant of colors at nothing short of an Adonis.

His eyes blurred the more he strained to look at the man’s angelic face through the window that reflected the glowing embers of a dying sun. A light breeze caused his eyes to tear up, but he refused to wipe them, afraid to miss even the slightest blink of an eye, or flex of a muscle. The object of his desire stood there, frozen in time, gazing out at the sunset, perhaps daydreaming.

Arms came from behind and wrapped around the man’s torso, pulling him away from the window and out of sight. He was gone. How does Kevin feel about this? Was he angry or sad? Did he become more depressed or was he excited by this vision? Consider adding Kevin’s reaction to someone else grabbing his Adonis and taking him from Kevin’s view.

***

Lather Later in the week, Kevin sat at his desk and stared at a spreadsheet of figures. He calculated and recalculated, with each total different than before. He snapped his fourth pencil and held his face in his hands. He was frustrated and exhausted, with a headache the size of a boulder. Month-end was next week and the more time he spent on this client’s portfolio, the less he had for his other accounts. He’d spent the last few nights tossing about and awakened by nightmares, none that he could recall. Each retching experience left him drenched in sweat and drained. Are these nightmares caused by his stress at work, or are they caused by his Adonis? ] Though forty-five minutes remained of his shift, he logged off the computer, killed the lights and closed the door to his office and exited the building.

He walked a couple blocks to Peachtree Street and headed south, strolling past a menagerie of street vendors who hawked everything from faux designer handbags and watches, to fake collegiate team jerseys and sweatshirts. He entered the Five Points rail station and boarded a crowded commuter train headed west, exited at the Centennial Olympic Park Station and walked the few blocks home. Inside his unit, he rushed to the wet-bar camouflaged behind a beveled mirror door in the kitchen. He poured a tumbler full of scotch and downed half the amber liquid. Though not prone to need a cocktail before dinner, tonight was different. He was bothered, but couldn’t describe what had made him nervous, unable to focus on his work. The guy in the window, maybe? He wasn’t sure. Whatever had caused his stomach to grind the last few nights and responsible for his restless sleeps, now seemed poised to ruin the rest of evening.

He stepped out onto the terrace and moved to the railing and gazed at the horizon. The scene wasn’t as beautiful as the other day. Was it the absence of the guy’s angelic face? The sun’s rays glistening across his bronzed skin? He frowned. The sun set the same time every day during spring. So, why should today be any different?

He chanced a glance toward the window across the way. The glass was empty and dark. The young man was not gazing out. The vertical blinds were drawn. Disappointed, he sipped the alcohol dry and moved back inside.

Later, before going to bed, Kevin opened the mini-blinds in his bedroom. The windows covered the south wall, floor to ceiling and overlooked the city. He gazed up at the night sky that resembled that of a black canvass littered with white dots of various shapes. The view engrossed him. He stood there, longer than he’d intended, when a flash caught the corner of his eye. He glanced down and across to the adjacent tower. A light glowed against the backdrop to reveal a bedroom of the unit across the way, by his calculation, the same floor belonging to the man of the window. He could make out a dresser, reclining chair and bottom portion of a bed.

His heart jumped into his throat, excited with the prospect of seeing the guy again. He would wait to catch a glimpse of the man once more and he’d be content. Afterward, he’d go to bed and forget about the guy in the window for the night.

His plan failed the moment a figure moved within sight. [Do you mean his plan to JUST catch a glimpse and go to bed? Maybe in the previous sentence: He planned to catch just a glimpse…] He found himself trapped, frozen by the hunger for even more. The man he saw days before passed by the window. He moved about the room, perhaps getting ready for bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress to remove his sneakers and socks. He stood and unbuttoned his jeans and dropped them his knees. He sat and slipped free of the denim.

Kevin’s heart pounded in his chest like a jackhammer. His stomach somersaulted and his mouth went dry. What luck! Adrenaline shot through his body. Clad only in white briefs, the man came forward to the window. Kevin panicked. He tried to move away back from the window but stumbled. He regained his balance and eased forward like a child sneaking a peek at Santa Claus in the middle of the night.

The blinds were dark. The guy was gone. Here again, what is Kevin’s reaction?

***

Kevin missed his alarm in the morning. He called in to explain his tardiness. He showered, dressed in a pale blue, linen suit with yellow tie and rushed to work. Upon arrival, Alice was waiting in his office. She handed him a cup of coffee.

“You’re late.”

“I called in.” Kevin pulled on the cord to the lamp on his desk.

“We had an appointment.”

Indent          Her eyes followed him around the room as he opened blinds and turned on the radio. He placed his jacket on the back of his chair and plopped down behind the desk. “You’ve been late before. Give a guy a break, will ya?”

“I’ve never been late a day in my life,” she sassed, brushing aside auburn curls. “Relax, already. I’ve proofed the figures. We won’t be late for the presentation.”

“I did that yesterday.” He was irritated.

“I know, but I found several mistakes.”

Rolling his eyes, he retrieved a pair of reading glasses and placed them on the bridge of his nose. “Where?” He asked.

He figured she’d already marked the errors, like usual. Her character was often to point out the faults in others. He watched her tiny body squirm with irritation.

“Pages three, five and eight.” She pointed to each correction. “What in the hell was on your mind yesterday, Kev?” You know this is an important proposal! If we don’t show the Stutman’s they’re investments are solid, we’ll loose the account. Do you realize? That’s half a million in revenue for this firm.” Combine these last 2 sentences: Do you realize that’s half a million in revenue for this firm?

“I’m sorry, Alice.” He sighed. “I promise, I’ll pay closer attention. Olay Okay, let’s go to the meeting.”

Kevin drifted through the rest of the day. The image of the guy in the adjacent high-rise seemed to be everywhere, haunting him, around every corner, in the lobby, even in the break room. Men who passed him in the corridor took on the features of the mysterious, young man. In the john, a colleague stood beside Kevin at the sink, washing his hands. Turning to exit, he nodded at Kevin, who could only see the full lips of the guy from the window.

On his way home, Kevin passed a photography store. The window display featured binoculars of various sizes. Kevin entered to browse with no intent to purchase. He left with an inexpensive pair of binoculars. Embarrassed and feeling guilty, he concealed the purchase under his blazer and rushed home.

That night, after Desperate Housewives, [Nice reference! ]Kevin glanced out the glass door to the balcony. The blinds across the way were open and the lights were blazing. Seized by the possibilities, he rushed to get the binoculars. He snuck to his bedroom window without turning on the lights to reveal his presence. He pressed the rubber tips of the scopes to his eyes and focused. He’s lifting weights!

The guy was better looking than he’d imaged, with a narrow nose, sharp jaw, dimples and piercing, green eyes. He could easily be a runway model at Bryant Park! [Many of your readers may not know what Bryant Park is. Is there a corresponding Atlanta Fashion place that Kevin might think about? Before or after the tornado? ]The man was shirtless and wore white gym shorts that clung to his body like a second skin. Kevin watched as he bent to retrieve a set of chrome dumbbells. He curled the weight in each arm, twisting his wrist at the top of each pull, his stomach contracting to reveal solid muscle. Kevin counted the lines of the six-pack. The guy’s biceps bulged with reach repetition.

Kevin ignored the stir in his loins and struggled to keep the binoculars steady. Finished, the man moved out of view, perhaps to shower. Kevin remained at the window, awaiting the guy’s return. His hands shook, his chest heaved. What are you doing? Becoming a freaking peeping-Tom! A flash regained his attention. The guy had reappeared, a white towel secured about his waist. Kevin stared through scopes, the heat of his eyes fogging the lenses. [This is also very good!] The man moved toward the window and in a quick one-two motion, stripped from the cloth and closed the blinds.

Kevin stood awestruck, angry the blinds had been drawn, but thrilled to have gotten a glimpse of the beautiful man. He stayed at the window for more than an hour longer, praying the guy would open the blinds. He couldn’t leave. He wanted just one more look before going to bed. Tired, eyes aching from the strain, he fell onto his mattress sometime well after midnight.

Just My Personal Opinion:
I'm liking this story already, but so far there hasn't been much action. I know that you're just getting started, so I'll be patient and read the 2nd part!

Your story is great, Jon! don't mistake me on that.

Scott

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