Black & White Movies: Ten Twisted Tales of Voyeurism

1988.

Knock Knock!

Matthew had just come off the phone to his wife when the fat woman knocked at his hotel room door. He knew her vaguely by sight, of course, and from her head shot in the conference programme. She was something in corporate, he thought. An attractive woman of a certain age, as magazines were wont to describe older Hollywood actresses when they didn’t want to come right out and just call them middle-aged. But he was used to her in her Calvin Klein suits and heels, so she looked somewhat incongruous standing in his doorway wearing only a hotel robe in snowy white terry-towelling.

Hello, she said, it’s Matthew, isn’t it? North-East area branch, sales and marketing. Am I right? I am? Oh good, I like to know all our people. Well, Matthew, it’s alright if I call you Matthew, isn’t it? It is? Oh good. Well, Matthew, I was wondering if you could do me a little favour?

Er, of course, he said, flustered. He’d heard all about knocks at hotel room doors in the middle of the night. In fact, his own wife had, jokingly, warned him about them when she’d kissed him goodbye just two days before, but he’d just laughed the whole concept off and said that it was the stuff of late night cable movies and urban legend. And yet here, on his very doorstep, was a woman who was almost certainly naked under her dressing gown, asking him for a favour.

What can I do for you? he stammered, sure that his face was crimson.

Well, Matthew, the woman said, edging through the door and gliding into his room like a cat, all curious eyes and tail up in the friendship position. Would you say that you were a man of honour?

Matthew shut the door hastily, lest anyone see them together. He was twenty seven, married two years and only just making his mark in the company. He’d already learned to be careful, and he measured his words cautiously as he replied.

Yes, he said guardedly, I think it would be safe to say that. Why?

Because I need a man of honour for what I’m about to ask, she answered bluntly, someone who will take good care of a lady’s reputation and keep his lips tightly sealed about what goes on behind the closed doors of a hotel suite many miles away from home.

Oh, I don’t think that I can... he started to say, embarrassed, but she shushed him.

It’s alright, it’s alright, she reassured him like a nanny soothing her charge. I’ve read your file. I know all about the little woman back home and the mortgage and the extra rooms for when the babies come. Relax, I’m not going to ask you to break your holy wedded vows. I’m married myself, and I don’t cheat either.

Then why are you here, like this? he asked pointedly, indicating her garb with a tightly reined flick of his hand.

The woman smiled. "Because I’m a long way from home and I want a little fun with a man of honour. No wait, here me out. You’ve been here two nights already, are you going to tell me you haven’t had just a little peek at all those naughty TV channels that this fine establishment has to offer? Of course you have, and that’s all I’m asking of you."

He looked at her bemusedly and she smiled.

I’m inviting you to watch porn with me, idiot, she laughed. I’m horny and I want some relief, but I always feel so sordid and desperate doing it all alone with just the TV for company. So, what do you say? Will you be my porno-buddy for tonight? I promise not to touch you or violate the sanctity of your marriage in any way if you’ll promise me the same in return. So, come on, don’t make me beg. What do you say?

He was blushing openly and couldn’t look at her and she smiled again.

OK, I’ll make this easy for you, she grinned. If you’re hard already you want to do it. So, Matthew, are you up or down? Do I stay or do I go?

I’ll turn on the television, he said, still not meeting her eye.

***

She took the remote and settled on his bed, quickly flicking through the on-demand channels with a practiced eye while he perched uncomfortably at the edge of the big divan. He had changed out of his suit when he came in and hung it to air outside the wardrobe, and his clean white shirt and matching charcoal tie were draped over the mirror, waiting for the morning.

Sit on the bed, would you, she scolded, I promise not to bite you.

Matthew smiled uncomfortably but moved a little closer. He was wearing a white tee shirt and grey sweat pants and was painfully aware that his erection was quite visible through the soft fabric of the trousers, and that she could see.

Nice, she winked, reading his mind and raking him with her gaze. Now, did you have anything in particular that you wanted to watch or is it to be ladies’ choice? Ladies’ choice? My what a gentleman you are. Well then, I think we’ll start off with a nice cockfest. How does that sound?

She pressed a button on the remote without waiting for his reply and an image immediately flashed up on the big television screen, showing a small skinny girl wearing only a tiny pair of blue panties with a cute cat logo at the crotch. She was kneeling on the floor and surrounded by six men, all naked and very stiff, their cocks straining towards her upturned face, curving upward with arousal, foreskins straining to cover their huge red and purple heads.

The fat woman made a little appreciative noise. Oh, I do so love British reality porn, she murmured, all that white skin and uncut cock. It’s so sexy!

Matthew flushed but nodded, glad that his own hood was still intact. And, he had to admit, sitting here with this woman and watching the girl on screen playing with all those huge dicks had him more aroused than he’d been in a very long time.

And she’s such a little thing, the woman was saying, jerking her head at the television, how’s she ever going to get those things in her mouth, let alone up her tight little fanny?

I’m sure she’ll manage, Matthew said quietly, still embarrassed, but feeling his breathing becoming laboured as he visualised it.

The woman laughed. But I hope she takes her time. I’m having a grand old time watching her touching and licking. God, those are nice cocks. Do you like looking at them too or does your macho prevent you from answering that question?

Matthew blushed again as long-buried images of forgotten nights with his college room-mates flooded into his head, lurid imaginings of heady evenings of desperate circle-jerking and tipsy late-night experiments, of big stiff youthful cocks jammed full of testosterone being coaxed to orgasm after orgasm, their bodies wet with still-warm semen as they desperately explored themselves and each other.

And here, in this room, on this night, with this woman, his cock was stiffer than it had ever been in his entire life, and he so wanted, no, needed, the experience to be played out to the full. So, yes, he nodded, throwing caution to the winds, I like looking at cock. I, the respectable and calculating Matthew, like looking at big stiff ready-to-come-at-any-moment cock.

Oh good, the boy’s going to play, she grinned. Cat like. I like a man who’s brave enough to put convention to one side and talk dirty with me. So tell me, Matthew, are you going to go all the way and look at other men’s cocks and tell me which ones really turn you on and get you stiff?

His sales trainers had taught him to never make rash promises and always weigh up the facts before speaking, and he looked at the screen for a long moment, slowly taking in each of the large stiff organs in turn and letting the other men’s arousal seep through him and flow through his body to his own huge erection. Then he answered her in precise measured tones, keeping the pulsating excitement out of his voice. How turned on will it make you if I tell you?

Ah, a salesman’s pitch, answering a query with a query. Well... she said slowly, grinding her large ass into the bedding, I’ll play you at your own game. If there were ten women up there, how turned on would it make you if I looked at each of their cunts in turn and told you how wet they each made me?

Matthew smiled and nodded, coming to a decision and feeling like his cock was going to burst. The one at the end, he said in hoarse whisper. The older guy with all the thick dark pubic hair, I like him best.

"Oh, excellent choice. Yes, he is nice, isn’t he. Tall and fit and hairy, and a cock that’s sticking out in front of him like a yard arm. Tell me, is it the body in general that turns you on, or do you just like that big thick cock."

Matthew swallowed, hesitating for a second, and then, driven by the ache in his own groin, threw further caution to the winds and plunged in. "I like his body, but putting that aside he just has the best cock of all of them. I like how stiff it is, the way it’s standing up all hard and curved like that, and it’s so thick and gnarled, like an old tree, and the colours are fantastic. All dark reds and purples and browns, not all pink and white like some of the younger ones. And I like