You know that feeling, when everything around you seems dull and mundane? When everything is boring, because nothing is new? Colors seem less saturated, pleasure feels less sharp, your friends aren't as funny as you remember, and you just have to pretend it doesn't bother you, but you long for something you've never experienced. You long to push your edge and find out what you can handle.

It's Monday. Your small apartment feels almost claustrophobic as the sun sets, but you have no where else to be. Through some mix of boredom and lust, you absentmindedly reach into the drawer of your bedside table for your vibrator. Your eyes close. Maybe this will help you escape. You slide the toy under your pants. The low hum of its vibrations pulse against your body, you let out a moan, but is it because you enjoy it? Or is this just more of the same? The motions feel so routine, so stuck- You open your eyes, and start to pull away, but as you look out of your window, something catches your attention.

Across the way, a handsome man in a suit looks in through your window, smoking a cigarette. His eyes give off a kind of cool confidence. He doesn't need this. This is no more impressive to him as if he'd seen a squirrel in a tree. He sees you looking back. He doesn't look away. What is this coursing through you? This electricity, this thrill... do you like this stranger watching you? Cautiously, slowly, not looking away, you turn the vibrator back on. Fuck. Why does this feel different? Why does this feel better? Is it wrong to like this? You don't stop. You go further. Slowly, you lift your t-shirt over your breasts. You imagine his lips sucking at your nipple. His expression doesn't change. You grope and squeeze them, pressing the vibrator inside, imagining they were his hands, not yours The moan that escapes your lips feels like it's coming from someone else.

Your legs start to quiver. Your body starts to shake. What could he be thinking? Your mind runs wild with the idea of performing for him. What you'd do for him in this moment as his eyes bare in on you. He takes a long drag of his cigarette as you squeeze and pinch and fuck and moan, your whole world existing only in his gaze. Oh fuck. It's never felt like this before. This feels fresh, like a higher level of feeling. As you cum, the only thing you can think is that you're cumming for him. As you lay back, panting and gasping for air, he puts his cigarette out and walks inside, and you wonder if he was even watching you at all.

The next day, you receive a package. A scandalous new outfit, and a note. An address, a key code, a time. "Wear this." Your breath catches in your throat. It's just across the street. Is this the thing you've been looking for? Could this be what you need? How much can you take? Are you willing to find out?