Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

“Do you ever look at naked pics on the net?”

“Sure, Jack. Who doesn’t?”

“Something freaky happened to me.”

“Boss caught you?”

“Not yet. I think IS watches everything we do, but fuck ’em. Anyway, I’ve been subscribed to this site for a few years – really good stuff – amateurs and voyeur.”

“Sounds hot.”

“Ever imagine what it would be like to find pics of someone you knew on the web?”

“Claire in accounting. I know there are pics of her somewhere. I am dying to see those babies bare.”


“Liz? Your wife?”

“In the flesh.”

“No shit.”

“I’m still shaking. Miss, can I get another beer?”

“Me, too. Thanks.”

“I’m flipping through the site and I get to a link marked ‘hot neighbor'”

“What’s the site?”

“Shit, Bob, I can’t tell you now. I’m still way too freaked out.”

“C’mon, Jack. That’s not fair. Everyone else gets to see her bod. Why not me? I’m your best friend. If anyone should get to see it, I should be the one to see Liz’s booty.”

“I’ve seen the same kind of pics a thousand times, some guy with a zoom lens catching some woman out of the shower or sunbathing. Kinda sexy, usually.”

“One of your neighbors took them?”

“Must have been. It was definitely our back yard.”

“What was she doing?”

“Apparently, Liz was sunbathing nude in our backyard.”


“Thing was, she looked so good. I shot my wad in about twelve seconds.”

“More than I want to know, but I’ll bet.”

“I see Liz naked almost every day, but somehow seeing these pictures drove me friggin wild.”

“Do you know who took them.”

“I could guess, from the angles.”

“She’s just lying on the lounger, naked?”

“Hell no. She comes outside in a long t-shirt sorta thing and peels it off to reveal a blue bikini.”


“So then she takes off the top. I had no idea she ever sun-bathed naked.”

“What’s the site again?”

“Then she pulls off the bottoms.”


“Starts playing with herself.”


“Neighbor with the camera is drooling, you can tell. Twenty pics a second, I swear.”

“Jack, I need to see those pics. Have a heart.”

“I ran home and fucked the shit out of Liz. Like six times that night. She thought I’d hijacked a shipment of Viagra.”

“You didn’t tell her?”

“Damn, no way. Thing is, I want more pics. I wrote the guy who submitted them, begged him for more.”

“He doesn’t know who you are?”

“No way. He said he’d send me some more and hopefully she’ll do it again soon so he could take more.”

“Have you ever taken pics of her?”

“That’s the kicker – she won’t let me. She’s too self-conscious, insecure. Doesn’t know how great she looks.”

“So show her the pics.”

“I’m afraid she’d delete them and never take her clothes off again. No, I have to figure out how to get her naked in the backyard so the neighbor can snap some more shots.”

“Look. I understand your spot and I want to help you. Give me the site. I’ll see what I can do.”


“You suck, man, you suck.”

“The pics were so, so hot. Maybe you could buy the house next door and take some more.”

“Thanks. I think I will. Neighbor.”

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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