AirBnPeep

ENTERED INTO THE 750 WORD PROJECT 2024

Sean and I made our way up the winding mountain road on the outskirts of Asheville. Dense trees obscured our view forward and backwards and we began to doubt the veracity of the place we had seen online. "Second only to Biltmore!" the page had bragged and it was, in all honesty, a stunning home in pictures, but there was no mention of its far isolation from civilization. We were surprised at the bargain price the homeowners were asking for a weekend of rent and quickly booked, but now we had concerns as we felt lost. And then, out of the woods on a 5 acre clearing, stood the stately 2 story mansion.

We stepped out of our Prius and admired the manicured lawn and columned pillars that bore the weight of the home. We entered the security code and quickly made our way throughout, inspecting all the rooms til we reached the dining area centered with an obscenely long table.

Sean smiled at me with a wicked gleam in his eye. I knew what he wanted. We both had an enthusiastic enjoyment for raw fucking in the homes of others.

I undressed and climbed atop the table and Sean mounted me doggystyle. Our animal grunts echoed off the large walls.

"You up for every room?"

"There's like 20!" I cried.

Sean again devilishly smiled at me.

"You're on!" I giggled.

We knocked out 12 rooms that first day. We lit the fireplace, just because, and had sweaty July sex. We finished the night fucking in both the pool and jacuzzi on the back end of the property which graced us with a valley view of the non-vacationing world below.

"Heaven," smiled Sean as he exited the heated water and swigged his beer.

I followed him out, wrapping my arms around his wet body, kissing his back. I made my way to his front and got down on my knees.

"Now! Now, I'm in heaven!" Sean screamed raising his arms high as our naked bodies silhouetted against the surrounding Blue Ridge Mountains.

The next morning Sean discovered a barn serving as a garage for a number of antique cars.

"Baby, these people are stacked!"

My open jawed mouth agreed.

"Ya know, my Pops once owned a '65 Mustang convertible just like that one in the corner," reminisced Sean.

Our last day, we surprisingly only had the master bedroom left to mark with our fucking. Awakened by Sean easing his head between my legs and applying tongue pressure to my clit, I jerked my arm as the first wave of orgasm came over me and accidentally knocked over the bedside lamp.

"There's a camera!" yelled Sean.

On the floor lay a tiny recording device.

Over the course of the next hour we searched and found similar devices in practically every room. Sean followed the wiring from the camera installed in the foyer chandelier and concluded everything was being recorded from a locked closet space underneath the first floor stairway. We easily picked the lock and opened the door...

There were over 50 recordings marked with corresponding names and dates! The Johnsons were labeled the first weekend of March and the weekend preceding us was the Rose family.

"They've been recording us the whole goddamn time!" Sean seethed.

"Let's go now before they return," I begged.

"No!" snapped Sean, "They certainly have more money, but we're better people than them!

We can't leave here knowing what they've done to others and TO US and do nothing!"

________

Upon returning to their home, Genevieve and Weathersby Richwood immediately went to their entertainment theater room and found a handwritten note placed under the universal remote.

"Really enjoyed your home," read Genevieve, "So we stole a few things from it."

"What!?" Weathersby shouted in a high pitched shriek.

"Took a souvenir of ALL your recordings - as insurance. Fuckin perverts! Come after us, if you dare, we know how to write a Yelp review. If you want to know about our sexing, look no further than in the back of your Mustang! That's where we found your used condoms and lube wrapped in men's Speedos."

Genevieve lowered her head in shame. They'd been caught red handed. She struggled seeking justifying words for their current situation as her husband stood staring at her in aghast shock.

"Weathersby Richwood... You're 59, married, overweight, wear a size 48 in the waist," Genevieve said softly, "Care to explain why those items were in the backseat of your prized Mustang?"