My voyeur story began some months ago if I recall it rightly. I remember I almost fall through the door, desperate to escape the past few hours, my mind is awash with the intensity from which I have just run. The closing of the door, the clicking of the latch allowing me to take a deep breath, to exhale him from my thoughts, even if only for a few brief moments.
Turning to take in my surroundings, the muffled sound of the party seeping through the door, the distant sounds of laughter and occasional shrieks still fill me. I have to get farther away, needing my solitude. I need the calm, the quiet.
I need to think.
My eyes searching the room; the leather sofas, the subtle lighting bathing the room in soft shadows. The soft, shaded lamps, the rich, coloured walls. Walking towards the lightly lit booth at the back of the room, sitting on the soft, dark leather club chair, its cushions pulling me down into them, inviting me to calm myself. Pouring more wine into my glass, slumping down slightly, I am taking a deep swallow of the rich red liquid, holding it in my mouth, allowing its flavours to reach every part of me, rolling it around my tongue, its scent filling my nostrils. Leaning my head back, closing my eyes, the richness of the wine warming my stomach. Taking a deep breath, sighing, feeling the tension starting to ebb from me, my body no longer taut.
I linger for a moment, clearing my mind, emptying my thoughts. The wine, the quiet, the solitude are all taking me away from here, taking me away from now.
Suddenly, my peace is shattered by the sounds of a doorway as it is carelessly flung open, ripping me back from my solitude. Watching, my eyes are immediately open and alert, searching for the cause, my senses suddenly alive. The door is instantly closed, the room once more returned to me, except that something is different, something has changed.
Straining my eyes through the half light, I see the couple fucking by the doorway. My body stiffening, freezing as though I have committed some indiscretion by hiding away. I shrink further down into the cushions, watching, eager to remain silent in the shadows, which welcome me to them, grateful to receive more of me. I can see them glancing around the room; their excited, careless look passing over me, seeming not to notice me. I am beginning to relax again, content that I remain anonymous, my breathing starting to calm, willing myself to return to my thoughts.
Watching them for a moment, my eyes probing them, taking them in, their bodies against the deep, grey sofa that they now lean against. There is a familiarity to me, I am searching my memory to find them, yet they remain just out of my reach. My eyes keen to strain to see those who have entered my privacy, I think that I have seen him, I know that I have. Is it the tall, lithe man who had caught my attention at the bar? He had been glanced at by more than...
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