Nosey Neighbor

I spend most nights refreshing the same tab until a name pops up I already know. Tonight it was my next door neighbor, stage name and all, staring straight into my lens in four-k. Kacy didn't want to come, which made her wind up on the wall shot holding the camera. We got there in time to catch Alix on her knees, tits out, two fingers deep, rubbing a slow circle around a nipple stiff enough to cut glass. Five feet. A single pane. She hadn't heard us yet. She moaned something low and messy into the mic, then rocked forward so the wet between her legs caught every ring-light bounce. When she finally looked up, our reflections snapped her out of it. Her hand flew to her chest; cheeks went pink. I told her she didn't have to stop on our account. That her job looked fun. She laughed once through her nose, exhaled, then let the hand fall away. Swallowed. Adjusted the angle so her spread knees framed both of us outside the glass. The lens caught the moment she crooked two fingers inside again, still shy of the knuckle, testing the temperature of the water we were standing in. She pointed at the door. Ten minutes later she had me on the bed exactly where her chair had been. Her slick brushed the inside of my thigh when she crawled over, leaving a small streak I could feel drying in cool air. On the little monitor beside us I watched her fans typing punctuation marks that looked like they were holding their breath. We made sure every single one of them could see me start to shake.