Peeping Tom Novels & Stories

"Tom. What do you say we finish up now so we can get to dinner." "Ah sure thing!" Tom quickly pulled out his phone pressing the call button. "All clear? Alright here it comes." The girls all looked at Tom a little apprehensively. While he usually was a completely normal looking man, he was beginning to salivate as if eyeing a nice juicy steak or a beautiful naked girl and anticipation was killing him. Tom turned his back towards the girls facing the direction they had come in through. CLACK CLACK! BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

Tommy dodge the trash can that was thrown at him and ran toward the elevator, only to watch the door shut right before his eyes. Anne sighed a breath of relief inside the elevator, thinking, 'that was close. He almost caught up. That guy is definitely a psychopath!' Tommy's face twisted as he panted. After a while, he looked up at the surveillance camera above him as though he was staring at someone on the other end of the camera. Just then, Anthony was behind his office desk and to his left was the screen of his computer with the Marwood Group's surveillance feed.

A young man stands beside the bench, wearing a janitor’s uniform and holding a trash picker, about my age with kind eyes and a nervous smile. “Every day until someone listens to me.” “They won’t,” he says quietly, glancing toward the lobby. “Listen, I mean. The people who matter don’t come down here. They’ve got their own entrance, their own elevator. Half of them probably don’t even know this lobby exists.” “I figured.” I study him. “What’s your name?” “Tommy.” “Tommy, can I ask you something?” I keep my voice casual. “That elevator over there, the one with the keycard, where does it go?”

I needed to hear what they were saying. "…. I’m sorry, I wanted to make this recipe, but our cream is different than yours." I knew that clerk, I think his name is Tom. Tom looked at Eve’s phone, where she was showing him the recipe. "That looks delicious." "It’s called a tompouce." Tom smiled, and then he looked Eve up and down. What the hell was he doing? Didn’t he know who she was? He didn’t stand a chance with her. Besides, he was at least ten years younger than her, maybe more.

One of the Black Reapers’ unofficial hangouts. Levi slipped inside. I waited thirty seconds, then moved closer—far enough to stay hidden, close enough to see. A man approached Levi’s table. Broad shoulders. Cocky swagger. Cheap leather jacket. It was Tommy, the head of the Black Reapers. He sat across from Levi, who looked like he was about to be sick.

he simply said. “I've always been dying to ask, but do you like someone?” his friend asked. He didn't answer him and kept staring at the street through the large window. He unlocked his phone and started scrolling on Instagram while his friends were talking about the type of girls they like, then a post made his heart skip a beat. Tom was posing in an underwear, exposing his six-pack, and he could see his growing length under the grey fabric. The picture had more than a hundred thousand likes.

Any other celebrity would be scurrying to get back inside, away from the creeps. Not me. This guy, he steps forward. Pulls back his hoodie. He’s got sandy brown hair. Hazel colored eyes. He tells me his name is Tom. Swears he’s my biggest fan. I smile sweetly—my smile always captivates them—and invite him in for a drink. Tom eagerly says yes. He rides the elevator with me. During the ride, we discus my upcoming movie and I catch him leering at my tits. His eyes darken with lust. His lips part ever so slightly.

Tom's presence commanded attention, and I found myself standing a little straighter, trying to meet his gaze. "You sent for me," I said, and he just nodded, looking at me from head to toe like he was examining me for something. His gaze was intense, almost clinical, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. What was he looking for? Did he see something in me that I didn't? The scrutiny made me feel uneasy, like I was under a microscope. I shifted my weight slightly, trying to break the tension, but Tom's eyes didn't waver. He seemed to be searching for something, but I had no idea what. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice low and measured. "Yes, I did," he said, his wo

"Yeah. What? I… Huh?" "Just as I thought. He's a picture, that one." "Who?" "Tommy Jenner, the looker from the third floor. The one you were staring holes through? I know at least three women that always take their breaks on the third floor just to get a glimpse." I turned back and watched Tommy's hips sway around the corner. "He's too pretty to be straight, right?" "No, not from what I've heard." "Really?" I sat down next to Constance like a rogue conspirator. "Tell me."

He crushed it out as I got out of the car, nodding a grim greeting. “What’ve you got?” he asked, all business. I handed him the envelope. “Photos. Someone’s been watching us. In the house. At school. Everywhere.” He flipped through the images, his face darkening with each one. “Jesus. You piss someone off lately?” I barked a humorless laugh. “Only every day.” Tom grunted, spreading the photos on the hood of his car, snapping pictures with his phone, sending them to his team. “I’ll get these run for prints. See if any neighbors caught something on their doorbell cams. You said inside?”