The shower [from Lester's perspective]

After leaving Kirsten at the bathroom door Lester went back to his room, careful not to look back. He was dying to get a look at that body of hers and to see if she'd watch his as he left. At the same time he wanted to make her more comfortable, and pushing too fast might just scare her off.

That didn't mean he wouldn't get to see her in all her glory, though.

"Cameras working?" he asked softly after closing his door and hearing the bathroom door close as well.

"Of course!" an indignant voice responded. "I set them up, after all."

"Yeah yeah, Joe, but were they off when I was in there? I want her to be the one on camera, not me. At least not unless I'm with her."

Joe snorted, the sound coming from speakers next to a desktop computer. "Your little willy is still safe from being captured on film. God, you think I'd want to see something like that? I had my hands over my eyes after you turned the cameras back on. I only looked when I heard her start talking to you."

"Fine," Lester grunted, ignoring the jibes. Joe was a prick but he was useful, and Lester's experiences made even Joe easy to ignore.

Flicking on the monitor and sitting, Lester waited to see what the cameras were recording. The screen crystallized into a tiled view of several cameras, capturing Kirsten (he couldn't think of her as Kjerstin, much less say it right) just as she slipped off the room.

Joe's whistle pierced the speakers and made him wince as he sucked in his breath. God this girl's rack put porn stars to shame! A d-cup was his usual limit, beyond that they seemed too saggy, but this girl had the firmness and perkiness of a b-cup!

"Those jugs are amazing!" Joe affirmed, making Lester nod in agreement. "Goddamn, I wanna grab em and bury my face in 'em, and..."

Lester pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing he could've found a different person to help him in this endeavor, but an embarrassing night-time encounter had led Joe and Lester to meet and discover a common interest in porn and voyeurism.

"You gonna bang her?" Joe asked.

"No."

"Can I bang her?"

"No."

"Oh come on, someone's gonna bang her, why not us? Why not me?"

"Because," Lester growled, "I want her to get comfortable first."

"Right. We'll film her sewing."

Lester glared at the computer in spite of the fact that Joe couldn't see him. At least, Lester didn't think he could. Joe was a genius with computers, so maybe he actually could.

"Stick to the plan."

"You haven't told me the plan. Just bits and pieces."

"And that's all I'm telling you. Stay away from her."

"But..."

"You'll get a chance at her later. If things work out."

"They better," Joe grumbled. "Swedish girls are supposed to be real sluts."

Lester shrugged, forgetting that Joe supposedly couldn't see it. They'd find out in the coming days, hopefully. He just had to encourage her and make her feel both comfortable and safe enough to drop her inhibitions.

"Bounce, baby, bounce!" Joe cheered as Kirsten began to sway and bounce for some reason.

Lester groaned, watching as the girl inspected her body before finally getting into the shower. Joe kept up a steady stream of vulgarity that Lester ignored, just as he tried to ignore the rise of his cock beneath the towel.

There was no way Lester was going to pull out his manhood with Joe 'in the room'. Hell, he didn't think he'd be able to masturbate in the apartment again until this whole thing was over. He still wasn't certain that Joe couldn't turn the cameras on and off at will and he wasn't being caught pulling on his dick by that asshole.

When Kirsten finally stepped out of the shower, body gleaming with water, he sat up, waiting for his cue.

"Where are the towels?" the girl said, then called, "Lester!"

Joe mimicked her in a high falsetto, but Lester was jumping to his feet, cursing as he remembered that he was supposed to have been changing. Whipping off the towel he slipped into a pair of boxers that did nothing to prevent a giant tent forming beneath their surface.

"Coming!" he yelled. God he wished.

In the army he'd learning the art of speed-dressing, thank God, and made use of it now. Socks, pants, and a tight-fitting t-shirt practically flew onto his body before he snatched up a pair of undersized towels he dashed from the room.