Deana Fallows

By Bruce Allsman

Deana Fallows, an erotic suspense novel by Bruce Allsman

When small town girl Deana Fallows, a freelance fashion designer, accepts the fact that her newlywed husband William, an investment banker, has to put in long hours at his new job in the city, she learns to embrace a luxurious lifestyle but resigns herself to a life of loneliness. Besides Gina Landers, a model who works with her, she has no other friends.

Except for an occasional night out with Gina, Deana wallows alone in the luxury condominium unit, spending most nights waiting patiently for her man to come home. Then, one hot summer night she catches a glimpse of a mysterious man from across the condominium block engaging in a wild sex romp, and she unwittingly relishes the vicarious pleasure of being a voyeur.

Curious, she desires to know the man's identity and finds herself on a slippery slope toward a web of seduction when the mysterious man, a billionaire playboy and investor, hires the firm that William works for, asking specifically for William to handle his account. Sensing the billionaire playboy's ulterior motives, she is wary of his sexual advances but conceals her fears to avoid jeopardizing her husband's career.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bruce Allsman
• Release date: May 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005098162

Bruce Allsman

Bruce Allsman is a short story author and novelist. He writes in many genres, including literary, romance, science fiction, horror, fantasy, crime, mystery, thriller and suspense genres. He has work appearing or forthcoming in over a dozen venues. When he's not writing, he enjoys learning foreign languages.

Book preview

Chapter 1

WHEN DEANA FALLOWS opened her eyelids, she turned her head, glanced at the red display of a digital clock on her nightstand and sighed. God. Already one o'clock in the morning. She had wasted two hours in bed trying to fall asleep. Despite her headache, she rose from her king-sized double bed and pulled on a robe. Then she padded out to the living room. Twice the size of the living room at her old home, the ample space felt unlived-in.

Her old home, a brownstone, although homey, was a dump compared to this new luxury condo. Three months ago, when her William got a huge bonus and a promotion, he had bought this new place. Nearer to his office, he had said it would save his commuting time. Ever since they moved in a month earlier, he had to work doubly hard. Bosses tend to trap their employees this way. The more money one earns, the harder one will have to work for it. Is this all worth it? She shook her head and sighed. Every night she had worried about him coming home way too late. Tonight she'll wait for him.

She supposed other people lived like this too. Curious to find out, she padded toward the balcony, to the closed sliding glass door. Parting the drapes a little, she scanned the opposite condo block, several floors below and above her floor. Almost all units were shrouded in darkness. Either their occupants had not returned home or had gone to bed.

Probably not home yet. After a hard day's toil at the office, they might be out enjoying the city's night life to the fullest. Except William, her workaholic husband. Thank God, she didn't need a day job. Sympathetic, he had spared her from the rat race, allowing her to live her dream as a freelance fashion designer. She enjoyed it, but felt that something was still missing from her life.

Since her relocation with William to this city, her only friend was a freelance model she works with. Other than lunches with their mutual clients, they didn't go out much. She yearned to taste the night life. A few condos in the opposite block lit up, distracting her thoughts, attracting her gaze. Standing very still behind the drapes, she held the edges and hesitated. To close or not to close the drapes. She withdrew her hands, leaving a gap of a few inches. Although she didn't intend to be a voyeur, she couldn't resist the urge to watch.

Her curiosity guided her gaze to a brightly lit living room. A young wife greeted her husband's return with a loving hug and a lingering kiss. She yearned to do that with William, but most nights he would come home late, usually past her bedtime. In another living room, a man and a woman snuggled on a sofa, watching TV. When was the last time she and William had watched TV together? A floor above that, a well-dressed couple was returning home from a formal social function. The last time they went out was months ago when William got his promotion. In the condo a floor below, the balcony's curtains were drawn. But from the dim amber light, she could tell the living room was occupied. Moving shadows revealed their act of love.

And what would her William be doing at this moment? Alone in his new corner office, dissecting financial statements, analyzing technical indicators. He seemed to enjoy his work, willingly paying the price for their present lifestyle. Certainly comfortable for her. Surely not for him. How could he cope with so many hours of work each week? These days they don't even have time for a weekend getaway. In his previous job, before moving here, they would go away for the weekend once a month and had also enjoyed a two-week annual vacation out of the country.

No matter what, William meant well for them. All he desired was to provide her the best that life could offer. She valued his commitment to their relationship. But his quality time with her was little and precious. Her time was limited too. She had to shop on her own, especially for groceries and other stuff. He had suggested they hire someone for such mundane tasks so she could stay focused on her fashion designing career. She declined, insisting that she must go shopping. Neither a yuppie nor a hipster, she preferred yuccie.

They had discussed their desired lifestyle and she had told him she didn't need a lavish one. However, he had insisted that they project an image compatible with his success. In the eyes of his clientele, his symbols of success helped foster their confidence in his financial abilities. Although she had accepted his decision, she still felt out of place here. His boss, Sir Robert Crenshaw, had recommended this place. Of course, William couldn't refuse. Personally, she preferred their previous small, cozy brownstone.

Be that as it may, she had acquiesced to move here also for the sake of her own career. There would be a bigger market for her freelance fashion design service. Certainly, it was a win-win situation. William had said his earnings were more than enough for both of them, but she had told him she loved fashion designing too much to give it up. She desired to achieve her dream of becoming a top fashion designer. In such a creative field, she knew making it big wasn't easy, but there was nothing else she would rather do. She glanced at her worktable, shrouded in darkness, over at the far corner of the living room. Since she couldn't sleep, she might as well do some work, get her creative juices flowing.

She raised her hands to pull at the drapes, but a light came on in the dark condo directly across from her. She paused and gaped at the scene before her, a place of extreme splendor. A tall, muscular Caucasian man with tanned skin and short black hair, led a curvaceous, long haired and fair skinned platinum blonde into the living room. The man flicked on more switches, illuminating the entire condo with soft tone lighting.

An attractive couple, they looked like A-list movie stars. They might be, but she wouldn't know. Other than an occasional romcom, she gave up on all movies years ago. The platinum blonde held the man's hands and led him farther in. The look on her face revealed intense sexual desire, and the man responded without delay by fondling her ample breasts. Deana froze, gazing at the amorous couple, her hands gripping the slightly parted drapes.

Chapter 2

DEANA STARED INTO THE brightly lit living room at the couple as they stepped out of their shoes, and segued to the front of a black leather sofa. The platinum blonde, clad in a mini black bare-back dress, turned to face the man, placed her hands on his chest, and murmured something to him. The man slid his hands over the back of her shoulders and down to her waist. The blonde looked up at him and smiled. The man bent down to embrace her and then caressed her bare back.

The blonde stood with her legs apart and pulled his head down. He kissed her on the lips, her neck, and her bare shoulders. He moved his hands down the sides of her torso, to her thighs. Meanwhile, she wrapped her hands around his neck, and with her tongue she probed his ear, face, and neck. And when his hands reached between her thighs, she parted her legs wider.

Deana gasped, pressed her palms on her chest, and felt her throbbing heart. Her cheeks grew warm. She diverted her gaze at the woman's little black spaghetti strap halter style dress. That woman knew her dress, probably a designer dress worth thousands of dollars, sculpted for her voluptuous body.

The tall, muscular Caucasian man with tanned skin and short black curly hair withdrew his hands from the platinum blonde's crotch, reached for the back of her neck, and untied the only knot that held up her mini black dress. He pulled the front of her dress down, revealing her D-cup-sized firm milky white breasts and erect pink nipples. He cupped her ample breasts with his hands and ran his fingers around her nipples. She giggled. He began squeezing her breasts, and she heaved them onto his hands.

While her heart kept hammering, Deana stood transfixed by the scene unfolding before her. A new feeling washed over her; it was neither shame nor curiosity. It seemed so natural. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her Peeping Tom's mind. No, her Peeping Jane's mind. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't move her legs. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't close the drapes. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't close her eyes. So she continued to watch them.

The man twirled his finger tips round the blonde's erect pink nipples. With both hands, he cupped her firm D-cup breasts and bent down, licking and sucking at each nipple in turn. When satiated, he pulled her mini black dress down and slipped it off her long legs, revealing her large rounded buttocks in a black G-string thong. He tossed the dress onto the sofa behind him, moved his hands behind her back and then downward to fondle her buttocks.

After that he eased his hands to the front of her thong and started tugging her thong up and down, rubbing her clitoris. She tilted her head and opened her mouth wide. Spreading her legs, she gripped his shoulders with her hands and whispered in his ear. He paused. She helped him to remove his black jacket and put it on the sofa. She unbuttoned his white shirt and peeled it off, revealing his tanned hairy chest and hard abs.

She unbuckled his leather belt, slipped it off, and started working on his black pants. He helped her to take it off, then she removed his socks. Deana gasped at the sight. The man's legs were just as well tanned and muscular as his torso and arms. He pulled the blonde up and they hugged, her breasts pressed against his hairy chest. When he released her, she squatted in front of him and faced his crotch.

Deana gazed at the man's huge bulge protruding from the front of his black briefs. The blonde put her hands to his bulge and began squeezing. The bulge grew, and his member was visibly straining the black briefs.

Deana sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm her pounding heart. She gripped the edges of the drapes and steadied her legs. She leaned forward, her eyes wide, staring hard at the couple. Transfixed by the man's manhood on the verge of bursting out of his briefs, she trembled at the thought of its enormous size. She had never seen any other man's member besides William's which wasn't even half that size.

She shuddered; her knees went weak. Calm down, she told herself. She tried to control her breaths, but a warm wetness in her crotch stunned her. As if it possessed a will of its own, her left hand began inching down to her crotch, but she stopped it just in time. You mustn't do this, she whispered.

She returned her attention to the couple in the brightly lit apartment across the block. By now the near naked couple had gone from the living room, probably into the bedroom. She hurried into her bedroom, went to the window, pulled the curtains wide apart, and stood gazing at the amorous couple.

The tall muscular man, now clad only in a pair of black briefs, moved with ease carrying the platinum blonde in his arms, his muscles firm, his movements graceful like a champion athlete. Gently, he lowered the blonde down on the king-sized bed. Then he stood, revealing his hard six-pack abs. On the bed, the topless blonde raised her open legs and smiled, taunting him, and he said something to her. Deana wished she could hear what they were saying.

The blonde reached for her G-string thong and slipped it off her long legs, revealing her clean shaven crotch. The man stood before the blonde, facing the bedroom's floor to ceiling window without any curtains that spanned the entire bedroom. From this angle, Deana could see his entire body. She stared at him in the face and for a split second, she thought he had seen her, and she shrank back into the darkness of her bedroom.

When she resumed her gaze, the man was still standing and the blonde was rubbing his member. His bulge grew even bigger. Then the blonde grabbed his briefs and pulled it down. His manhood sprang out, thick and long like a rocket raised upward diagonally, poised to launch.

Deana stared at the thing, open-mouthed. It seemed incredible, extraordinary and inhuman. At that moment, the man looked up and stared out the window, as if he knew someone was watching him. Deana froze, her eyes locked on the man's member. Slowly, the man eased his manhood into the blonde's vajayjay.

Deana held her breath. How could the blonde possibly accommodate him, all the way inside of her? Deana gazed at the man, at his thrusting action, her heart beating in unison with his thrusts. Her legs shuddered at each thrust. Then she realized she had been thrusting her hips. Her crotch was warm. She reached down to touch and feeling the wetness, withdrew her fingers as if recoiling from a hot stove.

The man stopped thrusting and said something to the blonde below him. He withdrew from the blonde, got off the bed and strode toward the window. At the window, he stood arms akimbo, staring across directly and smiled. Deana retreated into the safety of the dark behind her and watched as the man closed the curtains to his bedroom window. So, he had seen her, had smiled at her. He knew she had been watching.

Chapter 3

DEANA PADDED INTO THE anteroom to the bathroom, flicked on all the lights, and examined her face in the large rectangular mirror above the sink. Her flushed cheeks seemed to taunt her. That man had caught her