“Well, that’s everything.”
Manuel looked around at the piles of crates and furniture spread around the apartment. He would likely injure his back just opening all those boxes.
“Will you stay for dinner? I’d offer you a room, but, well, no bed yet!”
“It’s fine, Dad. We need to be going. We both have work tomorrow,” his daughter, Irene, said.
“Yes, of course. Well, thank you to you both. I couldn’t have managed this on my own.”
“Manuel, it was our pleasure. If there’s anything you need, just call. Otherwise, see you at the birthday party!”
Paco, his son-in-law, offered a hand to shake. Manuel took it, then hugged his daughter.
“Drive safely.”
“We will, Dad. Call me tonight, ok? Make sure the phones are working.”
When they had gone, Manuel made coffee and sat wearily down in the armchair. He didn’t have the energy to start unpacking today. It wasn’t as if there was any great rush. He wished Paco had not reminded him that he would be seventy-five so soon. Seventy-five years, and this was only the third address he had lived at! Young people today move around so much, he reflected, they wouldn’t know what it was like to really connect with a house. He’d lived in the same home with Maria for nearly fifty years. Paco and Irene had already moved, and they’d only been married a decade.
And now he would have to try to make this place home. Drifting off to sleep, he wondered how long he would have left to try.
Manuel was woken by a knock at the door. Looking at his watch, he saw it was six pm. He’d slept for almost two hours. He got up and went to the door. Looking through the peephole, he saw a young woman with freckled cheeks and long brown hair in a ponytail. He opened the door.
“Hello! I’m Ana. I live next door!” She was wearing jeans and a button-down denim shirt, and in her hands, she held a bouquet of flowers.
“Welcome to the building!”
Looking at her face, Manuel was struck by the thought that she seemed somehow familiar. Her eyes, he now noticed, were a striking blue, and they were set off by her denim jacket. She was really quite pretty.
“I hope you’ll accept these to welcome you, and please do knock if I can ever help with anything.”
“Thank you! That’s ever so kind. I’m Manuel.”
“Well, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to introduce myself.”
“Yes…I’m sorry, and please don’t mistake my intentions here. But…have we met before? Your face is…”
Ana laughed.
“I get that all the time. You’ve probably seen me on television. I’m an actress. I used to be in…”
“That soap…Salon de Urgencias!”
“That’s right! Dr. Alba Garcia. And I’ve been in films too. I’m working on one now, in fact.”
“Good heavens. A famous actress for a neighbour, I never would have imagined!”
“Well, B-list rather than famous. But, yes, I do get recognised!”
A few minutes later, thanking Ana for the flowers, Manuel withdrew.
But that night, Manuel was sitting up in bed reading when he heard a knock against the wall. Then another. And another, until a rhythm was established. It couldn’t be?
Then, he heard a female voice from the next apartment saying,
“Yes! Yes! More! More!!”
Manuel was amused at first. The knocking continued, then a male voice gave a loud groan. Then the woman said,
“Aye, dios mio!”
Manuel had not touched himself, but he felt his penis swell.
“Aye, cabron!” The woman cried. Manuel reached into his pyjamas and began to jerk, thinking of Ana, trying to picture her naked, trying to picture her having sex. He heard the bump - bump - bump of the bed, pictured her on her back…no, she was a doggy-styler, he was sure of it.
“Faster?” said the male.
“Si! Si!”
Manuel pictured Ana, her brown hair falling about her face, her ass in the tight grip of a butch guy, her body rocking back and forth, and her breasts swinging. She was taking that cock like a pro. Oh God, he was going to…
Manuel orgasmed, and was barely able to stifle his gasp. He had not come so quickly in years. Panting, he mopped the sweat off his brow, then turned his attention back to eavesdropping on next door. The bed was still knocking.
“Oh fuck! I’m there! I’m there!” cried the woman.
“Me too!” the man’s voice, this time.
There was movement, as if bodies were changing position, the bed stopped bumping, and then the guy gave a long, low gasp.
There was silence for a moment, then some laughter. Manuel cleaned his semen from his stomach and lay back, his head swimming.
In the darkness and stillness of his apartment, hearing the young voices whispering to each other next door and looking over his old, wrinkled body, he suddenly felt a deep sense of loneliness and of longing to share his bed again. He turned over and hoped that sleep would come quickly.
The next day was devoted to unpacking, and by the end of a hard day’s work, he was almost halfway done. That afternoon, the internet guy came around to set up his new connection, and Manuel was able to speak with Irene.
“You’ll never guess what. There’s a famous actress next door. Her name’s Ana.”
“Ana who?”
“Come to think of it, I don’t know. Hang on…”
Manuel typed in “Salon de Urgencias” into Google, and found the credits.
“Ana Barruz.”
“Ana Barruz? Wow! I’ve seen her in things. Is she nice?”
“Yes, very. She bought me flowers.”
Even as he spoke to his daughter, Manuel was reading Ana’s filmography. There were films he’d heard of, but none he’d seen. He made a note to look some of them up.
“Hey,” Irene said, “Invite Ana to the party. It’d be cool to meet her.”
“Ok,” Manuel said, “I will.”
“Roadtrip!”
“Sixty Three Seconds.”
“Killer Rabbits from Hell!”
Ana’s film career was quite varied and extensive for someone so young, although there were no blockbuster films. Manuel read,
“Roadtrip! Is a 2020 black comedy starring Pere Gutierrez and Ana Barruz about a young couple who are trying to elope from their disapproving parents…”
Manuel pulled the film up on a streaming site. “Rated 16 for language and sexual content.”
Yes, it was her! Ana had been maybe four years younger when the film had been made, and her hair was shorter, but it was clearly his neighbour. The film began with Ana cycling through a neighbourhood in Barcelona, then she ran up some stairs to an apartment.
A young man opened a door for her, and she threw herself into his arms, kissing him passionately.
“How long have we got?”
“Mum’ll be home in thirty minutes! Come on!”
The man led Ana by the hand through the apartment to the bedroom. Manuel reached to start rubbing his cock as Ana pulled up her skirt and flopped onto her back across the bed. As she reached for her panties, the male actor dropped his trousers and underwear and, in the second before he fell on Ana, Manuel caught a glimpse of a thick, dark bush between Ana’s legs.
It wasn’t a porno, so there was no sight of the guy’s cock, just his bare ass. He pinned a smiling Ana to the bed, and there was some awkward wriggling and laughter, then Ana reached down and…well, it looked like she was helping his penis inside her between her legs. But was it real? Or simulated? It was impossible to tell. The guy was thrusting hard and quickly, and Ana was wriggling on the bed.
“What a nice welcome home!” Ana said dreamily, smiling and wrapping her arms around his neck, her body rocking back and forth.
Ana pulled her t-shirt up, first baring her navel (which was tiny, barely a dimple) and her chest, her breasts contained by a red bra. The guy was thrusting faster now, bending over and placing a palm on Ana’s squirming belly.
Ana’s hands were now gripping the lad’s bare buttocks as he continued to screw her. It was so strange to think that he had shaken one of those hands just a day ago. Watching it squeeze the guy’s bottom, he rather wished he hadn’t.
“You’re so hard,” she moaned. Could this be the same guy who had screwed her in real life last night? There was clear sexual chemistry between Ana and the actor. It didn’t look like their first time together, in fact. Both were panting with the exertion, and the movement looked natural. If the scene was simulated, Manuel thought, they were both good at their trade. Perhaps it had taken several takes.
“Oh, I’m coming!” Ana gasped, and a second later the man cried, “Oh, me too!”
They kissed passionately, Ana’s hands were on the guy’s shoulders and…the scene faded to black. Shit.
Manuel hit the rewind button. It was on the third viewing that he managed to come. He would definitely be checking out the rest of Ana’s filmography.
Ana’s lover did not visit her that night, and the flat was quiet. Manuel lay in the silence thinking about how long it had been since he had been young and sexy and desirable, and of the far-off days when he’d made love with Maria all night. His wife had been an open-minded and skilful lover, and they had been very compatible in bed.
But when the children had left home, he and Maria had grown bored of each other sexually, and failed to experiment enough, and they had drifted apart until they were sleeping in separate beds, although they kept to the same bedroom. At the time of her death, there had been seven years of celibacy.
He pulled out an old photo album of them in the seventies, when they were newlyweds and twenty-three years old. There they were on holiday in France. Maria pregnant in London. Manuel holding baby Irene on the beach in Barcelona. Memories were the one compensation for the bitterness of aging, he reflected. And at least he had many happy ones.
Manuel closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
He dreamt that he was in a hotel, with the windows open and the sea breeze blowing in. Maria entered the room. She was young again, appearing as she had looked in her thirties. Her hair blonde again, her eyes shining, she was wearing a floral dress.
“Do you still want me?”
“Of course.”
“You don’t want her?”
“Who?”
“Her!”
Ana appeared from the bathroom, quite naked.
“Whoa!” Manuel let the exclamation out without meaning to.
“Choose which one you want,” Maria said, but there was no anger or bitterness in her voice.
“I want you both,” he said, honestly.
“Sorry, honey,” Maria replied, “You can forget me and have Ana or…”
Ana’s head hit the pillow, laughing as she had in the movie. Manuel slipped his penis inside her, and Ana was tighter and wetter than Maria ever had been. He kissed her, and she was not wrinkled with stale breath, like Maria in her later years, but soft and sweet-smelling, and her hands caressed his back.
“Fuck me, Manuel!”
Ana lifted her legs, and he felt her heels on his back. He gently massaged her left breast with one hand and ran his fingers through her silky hair. Ana’s pussy squeezed his cock, which was throbbing and wet with her sweet juices. Manuel thrust firmly, building up a rhythm. Manuel’s eyes drank in her naked body, noting every mole, every scar, and mark on her flesh, which stretched tighter with every thrust he drove into her.
“Yes! Yes! Give it to me! Oh, Dios mio!” Ana whispered.
“You realise I’m seventy-four?!” he whispered into her ear.
“Years? Kilograms? Inches?” Ana said. They both laughed. He continued to thrust, and the bed was bumping against the wall. Ana’s hands gripped his buttocks.
“Oh, I love a nice bottom!” she murmured.
“I know you do!”
Manuel realised that Maria was on the other side of the wall, listening to the bang-bang as he screwed the young actress…
He woke up. His cock was harder than it had been for years. He reached for his penis, wrapped his fist around it, and jerked hard. It took only thirty seconds for him to come.
Jesus. What was happening? He hadn’t thought of a woman like this in decades.
Manuel spent the rest of the night watching Ana in “Killer Rabbits From Hell!”, which was absurd, terribly written, and also kind of fun, he had to admit. There was no sex in it, but Ana wore her shirt tied at the midriff and tight denim shorts. He found himself enumerating which parts of her body he’d seen. Legs? Yes. Bush? Yes. Stomach? Check. Ass? Sort of, when she was taking it in the first movie…
Breasts. He still hadn’t seen her tits. There had to be a movie where she took her bra off, surely? When “Killer Rabbits From Hell!” ended, he started searching through the streaming pages to find another film she was in, but could not find any. He loaded up the porn sites, but a search for “Ana Barruz lookalike” yielded nothing…
Suddenly realising what he was doing, over a woman he had only met once, Manuel sternly said aloud, “Manuel, you need to get out and be busy today!”
So Manuel went over to Irene’s and took his grandchildren to the park. They fed the ducks, swung on the swings, and kicked a ball about, and he didn’t think of Ana the whole of the day.
At least, not until he ran into her outside the flat upon arriving home. She was wearing Lycra jogging shorts and a cycling top.
“Hi!”
“Hello!”
“Are you settling in ok?”
“Yes, thank you. The flowers really brighten up the place!”
Ana smiled sweetly.
“Hey! You’ll never guess what the last film I watched was?”
He briefly thought of saying “Roadtrip,” but didn’t want her to feel awkward around him or embarrassed about him watching her having sex on screen, so he said, “Killer Rabbits From Hell!”.
Ana laughed.
“That was so fun to make! I know it’s terrible, but we had an absolute blast filming it!”
“Well, it’s not exactly Pan’s Labyrinth, but I did enjoy it.”
“Thanks!”
Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. He asked,
“Hey…what’s your best movie? Speaking as a film critic?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I was nominated for an award for one. It’s called ‘Princess’. I basically play this princess who hates her life and is constantly escaping the palace in disguise. Anyway, she gets so good at sneaking around and disguising herself that she begins to use it for crime. I nearly got best actress three years ago.”
“Mind if I look it up?”
“No! Just…if you want to avoid awkward conversations with your neighbour, you might want to avert your eyes at about sixty minutes. Not much is left to the imagination!”
“Haha! I will. Right, I’ll let you get on. G’night.”
“Night!”
He’d read the title “Princess” in her filmography, but not noticed it was rated as an 18+. Manuel had just assumed it was a teen romcom.
Ana had made it sound interesting, and she had surely meant to hint that she got her clothes off. It didn’t take long to obtain it through a rental store, and that night Manuel settled down to watch it.
“Rated 18 for nudity, sexual scenes, violence, and bad language,” the rating system said. He thought of fast-forwarding directly to the adult content, but decided it would be more enjoyable if he followed the story. The first scene had Ana sitting at a public event, looking bored.
“You know those little girls who dream of being princesses? Well, they have no idea how fucking dull it is most of the time. It’s the most boring job ever conceived. Smile, wave, shake hands, repeat…”
But the film had barely begun when he heard voices from Ana’s apartment.
Manuel paused the film and reached for a nearby glass to amplify the sound, pressing it to the wall. He heard Ana’s voice.
“Tongue up a bit…yes, there! Oh. Oh.”
“You taste so good, I could eat your pussy all night,” said the man’s voice.
He was going down on her! Manuel scrunched his eyes up, picturing Ana in the throes of pleasure, trying to imagine her face as her pussy was eaten. In his mind’s eye, he ran a tracking shot from the pillow downwards. A sweet smile wrinkled her freckled cheeks. Her eyes were closed, and her hair was splayed across the bed. Once past her face, her hands played with her breasts, and then she was squirming on her bottom as her pussy was tickled, licked, and stretched.
“Oh…fuck yeah! You’re so good at that,” Manuel heard Ana say, “Just a few more minutes, my love, I just need a little…more…time.”
“Take all the time you need, Princess.”
Ana was gasping aloud now, and Manuel could hear her. He might have been imagining it, but he thought he could just make out very faint slurping sounds, as her man’s saliva mixed with her pussy juices.
“Oh, God! Oh my fucking God! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Ana cried shrilly as she came next door, and Manuel grew hard at the sound. He reached for his cock. Meeting her had certainly given his old penis a new lease of life!
There was some chatter and giggling that was too faint to hear, and then the room went silent. Manuel had hoped he might overhear her giving a blowjob, or them having full sex, but there was not another peep out of them.
Manuel was erect, stroking his cock, but there was no more stimulation now, and he was in danger of losing the hard-on. Fuck it. He picked up his laptop and went to the scene selection of “Princess”…there. About an hour into the movie, there was a scene in the bedroom. Stroking his cock gently, he began to watch.
Ana and her on-screen boyfriend burst through the door, kissing frantically. The guy spun around and pinned Ana against the door. Ana raised her arms, and her lover pulled her top over her head, then fumbled frantically with her bra, which was discarded. Oh boy. Manuel paused the movie, staring at Ana’s breasts. They were smaller than they had been in his dream, but they looked firm, as if they would be a joy to squeeze….he pressed play again. The guy kissed her again, then Ana took his shirt and pulled it open, ripped it open, in fact, spreading buttons across the floor. She stooped a little and began to kiss his bare chest and stomach. Lucky guy, Manuel thought.
Ana unbuckled his trousers, and they fell to the floor. The camera panned up to show only the guy’s head as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, then he exhaled deeply. Manuel knew that look…it was the look of a man being pleasured. Ana was sucking his cock, or at least pretending to. Miguel squeezed his head and jerked up and down the shaft, trying to imagine that Ana was doing that to him.
On screen, Ana stood, and there was a cut in the scene. The next shot showed Ana naked, the guy beneath her…she was riding his cock! Her hands were on his chest, and she was rocking back and forth.
She was absolutely without a stitch on her, it was clear. He paused again and stared at his neighbour’s body, tracing his eyes from her pert breasts down to her bare thighs. Her calves were tight and muscular, and she had a tattoo on her right thigh. His eyes fell at last on the perfect curve of her bare ass.
“Use that cock, Ana, use that cock, my love. Try and come,” Manuel whispered, jerking his penis. Ana threw her head back and may have squealed, but the director had chosen not to include the audio of the scene. It was all happening to music.
Manuel suddenly had a terrible thought…what if she could hear his computer through the wall? What if his neighbour recognised the music from the film, and realised that he was perving on her? Well…she’d recommended the movie…oh, God. She was on her knees now, being taken vigorously from behind. The guy was pulling her hair. Ana’s breasts swung wildly. She was sweating; they both were. Glistening, their bodies rocked…wait.
An idea popped into Manuel’s head, even as he watched Ana get fucked on screen. She’d told him about “Princess”. She’d laughed as she’d advised him to skip the sex scene.
“If you want to avoid awkward conversations with your neighbour, you might want to avert your eyes at about sixty minutes.”
But she’d laughed. In fact, there had been something almost…flirtatious in that laugh. Had she been encouraging him? Did she want him to watch her doing it? It was at least possible. She was an actress, after all. She got off on being watched…
The sex scene had finished on screen. The camera had cut to Ana, bare-breasted and lying with her head on her boyfriend’s chest. Manuel’s chain of thought had broken his concentration. His cock had withered in his hand.
Suddenly embarrassed, he flipped the laptop closed again, lay down, and closed his eyes.
Naked. He’d seen her naked. He’d built up slowly. Movie by movie, body part by body part, she had been revealed to him until he had seen it all. Every single muscle, mole, and sinew. And, Great God, what a sight she was. A living Venus, moulded by the Gods to master the arts of love. A model of such beauty that it would be a crime against nature to keep it behind closed doors.
Could he ever see her do it in real life? Only if she wanted him to. It was at least possible she’d encouraged him to watch that scene. At least possible…he thought, as he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Ana came to his door. She was wearing a very pretty flowery dress, and her hair had been washed so recently that it was still wet, and the scent of shampoo hung around her.
“Hi Manuel!”
“Morning!”
She asked how he was and how he was settled in, but he barely heard a word of the pleasantries. He was picturing those hands, now folded daintily against her stomach, grasping that guy’s ass in “Roadtrip!” and those bare knees sinking into the bed in “Princess” as she…
“I actually had something to ask you. Are you ok with animals?”
“Sure,” he said, snapping back to reality.
“Would you mind popping in to feed my cat for a few days? The movie I’m filming is being shot in Portugal for a week. My boyfriend normally does it, but he’s away too.”
“Of course, no problem. I like cats.”
“She’s really sweet. Just one bowl a day, and make sure she’s got water.”
“Absolutely. Just leave the keys with me. What’s her name?”
“Macy.”
“Ana, consider it done.”
“Thank you so much!”
“By the way,” Manuel added, “it’s my birthday in a couple of weeks. We’re having a sort of party. You’d be very welcome! And your partner, of course. My family would be glad to meet you.”
“Thank you! We’ll try and come!”
He knew she was out. He knew she had asked him to enter her home, but Manuel still felt a frisson of guilt and fear the first time he stepped through Ana’s front door, as if he were trespassing. When the door closed behind him, he surveyed the apartment. There were framed photos of her, her immediate family, and her boyfriend on the mantelpiece and a nice three-piece suite facing a big TV.
The cat eyed him suspiciously from the sofa. Manuel located Macy’s bowl and refilled it quickly. Turning, he saw that Ana’s bedroom door was open. There was a double bed, impeccably made with a blue duvet, and the headboard was, indeed, right against the wall of his own place. No wonder he could hear them doing it.
Oh, if only he could see them! He stared at the bed, picturing Ana on her back, her legs high up in the air, and a man’s rear end, his bottom thrusting energetically, and the words he’d heard her cry out as she came played in his head:
“Yes! Yes! More! More! More!”
Opening the bedside drawer, he found a half-empty pack of condoms and a book of sexual positions. Manuel climbed hesitantly onto the bed and sniffed the pillows, and a lovely scent like the sweetest flower seeped into his nostrils. So that was what she smelt like. He buried his face on the pillowcase and breathed deeply.
“Ana. Ana. Come to me, my love,” he whispered into the pillow.
Suddenly, he snapped back to himself.
“Jesus Christ, Manuel. Go home. Look at what you are doing,” he said aloud. Ten minutes later, the duvet smoothed over and the door locked again, Manuel sat back down in his own armchair and settled down to watch something - anything - that had nothing remotely to do with Ana Mallafre Barruz.
When he awoke the next morning, Manuel deleted his recent search entries one by one.
“Ana Barruz sex scene. Ana Barruz lookalike. Ana Barruz bikini. Ana Barruz boyfriend. Ana Barruz ex. Ana Barruz kissing.”
He needed to go cold turkey from this woman, urgently. He could see that she was becoming an obsession. He felt even more ashamed when he recalled that they had only actually spoken about three times. He was starting to wish he had not invited her to his birthday party.
But, even as he walked around the shops that day, she lurked in the back of his mind. Ana. Ana. Where was she now? What was she doing? Oh, he couldn’t wait for her to get back. If he could only just speak to her…
After he’d been to the stationery store, he went to the electronics store.
“How does this camera work, please?” he asked the clerk. But in his head, a very different conversation was taking place…
(‘She has willingly disrobed for the cameras more than once, Manuel. She’s happy for the public to see her naked. This is no different.
Yes, it is. She was playing a role in the movies. For all you know, the sex scenes might have been simulated.
Ana strongly implied she stripped and had sex in “Princess”. Her own words. She wanted you to see it. She wants you to watch her have sex.
She wanted to avoid awkward moments…
No. She clearly encouraged you to watch her have sex. She loves being watched. She’ll love to imagine you getting off on her being fucked by her boyfriend.
It’s not legal.
She encouraged you, Manuel!)
As soon as he got home, he picked up the book of sexual positions from her drawer and his new notebook and pen. Skipping past the list of perfumes, gels and lotions he’d found in her closet (he was working on replicating her scent), Manuel began to write.
“Ana walked confidently over to where Manuel stood awaiting her. She paused to admire his large, erect cock, which still glistened with the saliva she had coated it with.
“Ready?” she asked Manuel. He nodded.
With one, infinitely graceful movement, she kicked up her right leg. Swinging it tightly around Manuel’s firm, muscular buttocks, Ana flung her arm around his neck. Skilfully, Manuel slipped his mighty shaft inside her and grasped her buttocks for support.
Ana felt Manuel’s cock drive deep inside her. She closed her eyes and pressed her head to his neck, breathing in his masculine scent.
“Fuck me,” she whispered to him. He drove his cock firmly upwards. Her chest was pressed to his, and his strong arms cradled her weight, taking the pressure off the one leg she was standing on.
“With pleasure, my little ballet dancer,” teased Manuel, quoting the name of the position. Manuel thrust higher into Ana. No man had ever been this deep inside her before. Her left leg started to tremble as her orgasm stirred within her.
“I love you, Manuel,” she whispered into his ear.
“I love you more,” he replied.
“Oh, my God! You’re so hard! You’re so strong! You make me so wet!”
Manuel said nothing in reply, but he reached downwards and put his other hand on her buttocks and picked her up bodily from the ground. Ana felt the cool marble of the kitchen counter on her bottom as he set her gently on it, and then he began to thrust again.
“Oh! Oh! I’m coming!”
“I bet you haven’t been fucked like this since filming ‘Roadtrip’,” Manuel said
“I’ve…I’ve never been fucked like this!” she gasped, lifting her leg still higher.
Manuel ravaged Ana on the counter until she said,
“I’ve come. I want you to pull out and come in my mouth.”
Ana felt his cock withdraw, then she jumped off the counter and crouched before him. She took his shaft in her right fist and guided it into her mouth. But Manuel did not stop thrusting. She felt his cock fill her right cheek; he was moving so fast she barely had time to suck down on it. She twisted her neck slightly and opened her throat. When she pursed her mouth around it, she could feel the bulging veins on her soft lips.
“Oh, yes, baby! Just a little more!”
Ana saw Manuel’s knees were trembling. She grasped the base of his shaft with her hand, then sucked it hard five times…
She felt a jet of semen burst onto the roof of her mouth and heard Manuel cry out, gasping. His cum coated her palate, dripping down onto her tongue and his shrivelling cock as she sucked every last drop out of him.
When he was calmer and his cock flaccid, she stood up and embraced him. He breathed in her delicious scent and felt her naked body pressed to his…
Manuel closed the notebook and slipped it into the pocket of his dressing gown, and got up to feed Ana’s cat.
Moments later, Manuel entered her apartment again. He refilled the cat’s bowl and petted her for a while, then he went into Ana’s room.
He saw where to put the camera at once. Just above the headboard was a double light, one bulb pointed at each side of the bed. Standing on the mattress, it was easy to fit the little thing onto the lamp in such a way that it was concealed.
Fishing out his mobile and notebook, he was able to download the software and establish the live feed. Ana’s bedroom appeared on his phone screen, and then disappeared. It was activated by movement, Manuel realised. How incredibly clever, he thought.
A week passed. Ana did not come home at all, and Manuel went to her flat daily. He never went in there without thinking that he should remove the camera, that it was wrong, that it was illegal, and risked him being convicted as a pervert. But he let it stay there, and then it was too late.
She came home.
His mobile flickered into life the moment she opened the door. To his delight, her boyfriend was with her. She was wearing the same shirt she had been wearing when she’d first come to his door, he realised.
Ana unbuttoned her shirt and took it off, then undid her bra. Standing by the bed, she pulled down her jeans and underwear. The guy dropped his boxer shorts. He was no porn star, but he was not small either. Average. Both Ana and Manuel watched him tug at his cock, working his erection up. Ana knelt before him and began to suck it. The guy put his hands gently on the top of her head and closed his eyes.
Manuel watched Ana’s right cheek bulge with each slow thrust, wondering what it tasted like for her. As he watched, he recalled his wife sucking his cock. He recalled her first, virginal, inexpert attempt just after their engagement. It had been pretty sloppy, but he’d still come. A year later, and Maria had mastered the art. Just thinking about his wife’s blonde hair bobbing up and down and the delicious feel of suction on his head…
But the blowjob he was perving on did not last for long. Ana got up and went over to her bag. Reaching in, she produced a bottle which, as Manuel correctly surmised, was lubricant.
Ana got onto the bed on her hands and knees. Her partner squeezed some lube onto his fingers and reached between Ana’s buttocks. Parting them gently, he rotated his finger, rubbing the gel around her hole.
Manuel began to jerk off as the guy stepped up to the edge of the bed. Ana bent over, clasping two pillows to her chest and presenting her ass to him. Handling his cock, the boyfriend pressed it up to Ana’s bottom and, with the aid of his thumb and forefinger, penetrated her sphincter.
“What are you doing?” Manuel muttered, “You’d better be gentle!”
The boyfriend gave a terrific thrust and Ana rocked forward, throwing her head back. The boyfriend grabbed her ponytail and held it, then he thrust again. This time, Manuel heard Ana through the wall,
“Agh! Yes! Fuck me!”
“Do you like that?”
“Oh, yes! Keep going!”
The guy pressed his cock into Ana’s ass one, two, three times. Her body lurched towards the wall. Ana’s facial expressions altered with each thrust. Now, she was grimacing, then there was a smile, then she closed her eyes and appeared to gasp aloud.
Manuel felt his cock grow hard, but there was another feeling creeping into the back of his mind. A sort of proprietary, protective feeling towards Ana. Even though he could hear her asking for it, a vague feeling of unease that she was having anal sex. Ana wasn’t his daughter, but, well, perhaps he had started to feel fatherly feelings for the young actress? His daughter making sweet love was one thing. Her being fucked roughly in the ass was another. He didn’t approve of what was going on next door, and he turned off the live feed, tutting slightly at the decline in sexual morality of young people today.
The day of his birthday party arrived a week later. Guests began arriving at seven. His daughter and son-in-law were the first guests, then his sister and her husband, then some friends. At about eight, he opened the door to Ana and her partner. He offered his hand, but, strangely, it was refused.
“Happy birthday,” Ana said quietly, stepping past him. Her partner followed with a curt nod. Manuel’s first thought was that they had had a row and were not speaking to each other.
The guests mingled. There was small talk amongst strangers and gossip amongst the people who were familiar. Just before nine, Irene tapped her glass for attention.
“It’s time we presented my dad with his presents. He’s made it to seventy-five and, speaking for myself, I couldn’t have had a better father.”
There was a smattering of applause. Manuel noticed that Ana and her partner did not join in. When it died, Irene gave him her gift; a beautiful, antique clock. Thanking her and her husband profusely, he set it admiringly on the mantlepiece.
There was a slightly awkward silence as guests wondered who would speak next. To Manuel’s surprise, Ana’s partner stepped forward.
“I have something to say today,” he said, “Something that I think everyone should hear.”
No-one spoke or moved. Manuel suddenly felt nervous. And then, to his horror, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out Manuel’s notebook, the one he had purchased a week earlier.
“Manuel offered to feed our cat, a kind act. But this was left behind in our apartment.”
Manuel’s heartbeat increased rapidly. The man opened the book and began to read.
“Ana’s bare breasts swung as she sucked Manuel’s cock. She was clearly a practiced cocksucker,”
Here, for an awful moment, the boyfriend paused and looked straight at Manuel. Their eyes met, and Manuel hung his head. The lover then continued to read,
“as he knew from the many nights he had listened in to her making love through the wall…”
Manuel looked up. The boyfriend was looking down, reading from the page. Ana was looking downwards, an expression of barely repressed fury on her face. His daughter was looking at him, and her face radiated…pity. No, he thought, not pity. Hate me. Despise me. But don’t pity me.
“Ana spread her legs and encouraged Manuel to enter her, enter her as the actors had not, much as she had wished they would. It was all fake in Roadtrip and Killer Rabbits From Hell. But in each sex scene she’d filmed, she’d burned with desire for those actors to fuck her. And now, finally, Manuel was willing to break the fourth wall and actually screw her…”
The man slammed the book shut and stalked over to Manuel. For a second, Manuel thought he would punch him. The boyfriend stopped, went right up into his face, and growled, “Dirty old man!”
Whereupon, he left the flat. Just behind him, her head held high and her expression cold, Ana followed him out.
“I think the party is over,” he heard someone whisper. Gradually, the guests filed out until only his daughter and son-in-law remained.
“I’m sorry, Irene,” he mumbled. “I was just lonely.”
Her husband was straining not to laugh. Irene, however, did not look amused at all.
“I don’t know what to say, Dad. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. Look, we’re going now. We’ll call you.”
“Ok, love.”
When he was alone, Manuel sank wearily into his chair. What a disaster! And what a silly mistake, to give himself away like that. He’d have some flowers sent to Ana to apologise. And it could have been worse. They could have found…
Pouring himself a glass of wine, Manuel opened his laptop to see what was going on in the bedroom of the girl in “Killer Rabbits From Hell!”.
