Insomniac 1

I was a zombie.

Not a real zombie, because zombie aren't real, but also not a movie zombie. But I felt like one. Insomnia was kicking my ass. I hadn't had a night's rest in at least... a week? Two weeks? I couldn't remember.

Luckily I wasn't in danger of losing my job. I was teleworking, and I was upfront and told the folks in the office that I'd be on limited productivity. They understood; this quarantine was hitting people hard, in a lot of different ways. I had plenty of leave, so I reduced my hours to one or two per days, the most I could manage, and tried to rest and establish some kind of sleep cycle.

But nothing worked. I was up until 3 or 4 on a regular basis, and if I did manage to fall asleep, I was awake again at 6. My brain wouldn't shut up at bedtime, was the biggest problem. Old song lyrics would jump into my head, or some TV show... it was always something. I usually stayed up past midnight, trying to make myself tired, but then I couldn't fall asleep.

So it wasn't long before I became the walking dead. I'd shamble around my apartment, trying to feed and bathe myself, barely able to function. My body ached all the time. I bumped into doors. I had gaps in my memory. I even flashed my neighbor. Not in a pervy way; I'd simply forgot to put on pants. Was she inside my apartment when it happened, or out in the hall? I couldn't remember.

Luckily, Ginny was the understanding type. She'd lived across the hall from me for a few years, and we got along well. She worked the night shift at an emergency call center, so she was used to hearing crazy stories, especially now, with this pandemic driving us all mad. I tried apologizing to her once, but my mind began to go blank, but I think she said it was no problem.

A few days after the flashing incident, things began to improve. I felt more rested, and I seemed to be sleeping later. I was still up past 4 most nights, but somewhere in the early hours, things began to fade away, and I'd find myself waking in bed, usually around noon. I didn't understand what had changed, but I certainly welcomed it.

I finally made contact with Ginny and my own lucidity at the same time, the following weekend. She had a few days break from her night shift, and I was feeling more focused and able to do some basic tasks. We were doing laundry together in the basement, and I managed to coherently apologize to her for the flash.

"No problem, Eric," She told me, smiling. "I hear about so much crazy shit, but don't get to actually see it very often. So it was actually kinda fun. And I know there wasn't any malice in it."

"Still, I owe you a lot of thanks for not calling your cop friends. I could have been in big trouble. Can I make it up to you somehow?"

Ginny giggled, and said, "Sure, make me dinner before my shift starts tonight."

So I threw a lasagna in the oven and made sure to set several alarms so I wouldn't sleep through and let it burn. It came out perfect, and Ginny showed up at 7:30, an empty container in hand. I shoveled half the pasta into her dish, and gave her a generous helping of sauce.

Ginny set the container on my counter, and ran her finger through the sauce, then licked it up. "Hmmm, she said, smiling. This is really good, Eric."

"It's just premade. All I do is cook it."

"Yeah, well, it's better than what I usually get. Do you think you can make me one every Sunday night?"

"Sure, no problem."

"Thanks, neighbor." Ginny's smile had grown more mischievous, and, I thought, a little flirty. She walked out the door, give me a last glance before going out of sight down the stairs.

I sat down with my lasagna, and enjoyed a nice dinner. I thought perhaps it would allow me to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. No such luck.

I was up at 4 again that morning, wandering around my apartment, forgetting what I was doing a minute before. As I stood looking at a broom I was holding, wondering why I was holding it, the front door opened. Ginny was standing there. Had I left the door unlocked? Had I given her a key? Had I stayed awake the entire length of her overnight shift?

Ginny set down her bag and her empty food container by the door, and put her hands on her hips. "Poor baby," she said. "Let's get you sorted out."

I woke around noon again, wondering what had happened. Had Ginny helped me to bed?

The next night, things were a blur again. I faded out sometime after 3. Not asleep, just too tired to remember anything. But again, I slept well, and awoke refreshed around noon. The week continued like this.

I realized that I was in danger of permanently shifting my sleep schedule, but I didn't' care at this point. I put in my two hours of telework in the afternoon instead of the morning, and rode the wave of coherent thought enough to be productive for the afternoon into the evening. The muscle aches had stopped. My body was recovering.

The following Sunday, I made another lasagna for Ginny, and waited, looking forward to her arrival. She let herself in at 7:30, and was clearly pleased to see me up and about. I scooped her out some layers and some sauce, and said, "I don't understand what's happening, I guess my bio-rhythms are shifting or something, but I feel much better."

Ginny giggled as she stuffed the food container in her bag. She turned to leave, but stopped and looked back at me. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Huh? Don't know what?"

Ginny grinned and said, "Eric, for the last three weeks, ever since you flashed me, I've been giving you a blowjob when I come home from my shift. You've been sleeping better because you've had an orgasm."

I was stunned. "What?"

"You really don't remember? You're not faking the daze you're in, huh?"

I didn't recover my senses in time to say something. Ginny went out the door, saying, "See you in the morning, big boy." Then she was gone.

I ate my lasagna in silent bewilderment. Was she telling the truth? It would explain a few things. The better sleep, the familiarity she had with my apartment, those naughty giggles...

I considered getting a nap in, so I could stay up later and witness what happens at 4:30 with a clear head. But I'd only been up for 8 hours, and I didn't feel tired at all. So I settled in for another restless evening, and tried to think of something.

Late in the night I saw an infomercial for spy gear. Perfect! I got online and ordered a wireless micro camera. I selected next-day delivery, but it was already after midnight, so 'next-day' meant Tuesday. I sent an email to the building management, telling them I was expecting a package, asking them to hold it for me.

I watched a couple movies, trying to remain clear-headed, but things began to fade sometime around 3. I put on headphones and listened to heavy metal. It didn't help, I made me more tired.

I was staring out the window when the door opened. Ginny came in. I tried to speak, but my brain was too fuzzy. "Awww," I heard her say, as things began to go blurry. "You tried to stay focused. It's so cute." She sighed and took my hand. "Come on, then." Everything faded.

I woke up at noon again. Was this Monday or Tuesday? I checked, and it was Tuesday. I think I'd lost an entire day. I checked my work emails, and found I'd answered some yesterday. So I'd been up, but I didn't remember it.

I went down to the building office and asked about my package. They brought me a box and I took it back upstairs. I unwrapped the new mini camera, and looked for a good place to put it. There was a shelf in the corner of the living room that looked perfect. I set it up, tested the connection, everything. It was set.

Another sleepless night. I made no effort to preserve coherent thought, and I faded out, waking in my bed late the next morning. I did my telework first, then I went to check the camera's recording.

I saw myself in my living room, walking into and out of the closet over and over. One time I closed the door as I left, and when I came back, I just bumped against the door for five minutes. It was pretty embarrassing. I advanced the video a bit, and saw an empty room. I backed it up, and saw myself laying on the floor, a bowl of cereal balanced on my forehead.

I groaned and jumped forward a tiny bit, and then I saw the door open. Ginny came in. She said something to me, as I stood by the window.

I had considered getting the camera with sound, but I figured it might not be able to record the entire night. I regretted it now; I wanted to know what she was saying to me. I saw her take my hand, and lead me out of the living room, to my bedroom. For a moment, she seemed to look toward the camera, but then we were out of the room. I advanced the recording, and saw that a half-hour later, she left again.

I got the camera down. I took it to the bedroom, and set it up in a new spot, with a view of the entire room, well-hidden between the legs of a figurine. I set it to start recording when it detected movement.

That evening was very fuzzy. I blacked out long before 4. The next day was Wednesday, and I woke in my bed. I immediately checked the camera; it was where I'd left it. I got out my computer right away, and checked the recording.

I saw Ginny enter the room, leading me by the hand. Her shirt was gone. She shrugged out of her bra, and her tits flowed out. They were... perfect. Even on the low-res little camera, her beauty was so clear. I can't believe I hadn't noticed before. Her fun, perky smile, her little nose, her short dark hair, and those perky, perfect breasts. It was quite a sight.

She sat me down on the bed, took off my shirt, and pushed me a little to lay back. Then she unbuckled my pants and pulled them off. She did the same with my underwear. I saw my cock laying, mostly limp. Ginny ran her arms up and down my legs, caressing me.

She put her hands on my hips, and lowered her head. I could see her tongue come out, a tiny sliver of pixels in the low resolution. She was licking my cock. It began to grow, then twitch and go erect. Ginny lifted her head and brought her lips to my cockhead, then lowered her mouth onto me. Her head began to bob up and down.

I realized I was jerking my cock, watching myself get a blowjob that I didn't remember. She said she'd been doing this every day for three weeks. How could I not have known about this?

Ginny's head on the screen was moving faster. She was holding herself up with one hand and cupping my balls with the other. It wasn't long before I saw my hips begin to buck on the screen. My hands twitched, and my head shook back and forth. Ginny never stopped. She was taking my cum in her mouth, working hard to continue the pleasure through my orgasm.

My movement stopped, and I slumped back in the bed. Ginny pulled my underwear back up, and laid the blanket over me.

I recalled that when the camera was in the living room, it had been about a half-hour between Ginny bringing me to the bedroom, and leaving again. The blowjob had lasted maybe ten minutes. Now I saw what else she'd been doing. Ginny eased her pants down off her hips, and laid back, next to me on the bed. Both hands were under the waistline of her panties.

She closed her eye and arched her back, working faster. Then she reached over, and placed one of my hands on her bare breast. I saw my own hand twitch a little, then begin to softly caress her breast.

I watched Ginny masturbate next to me for at least fifteen minutes. The first time she came was amazing to watch, as her breathing stuttered, and her hips rose off the bed. She froze that way for a long moment. I backed up the recording and counted. She'd frozen, breathing stopped, back arched, for a count of fifteen seconds. Then she relaxed, and brought her fingers to her lips, sucking on them.

But she didn't stop. As my hand continued to softly knead her breast, Ginny put both hands back in her panties and rubbed harder. Then I saw her take my hand by the wrist. She repositioned herself, and took my hand in both of hers. She guided my hand down into her panties, and worked there for a minute. Then she brought my hand back out, and raised it to her mouth. She sucked on my fingers and she put both hands back down her panties and worked even harder.

Ginny came again with my hand in her mouth, as I watched on the little low-res image. This time, she didn't stiffen. She bucked her hips up and down, and then her mouth opened and my hand fell away. Ginny's mouth was opened wide; again, I regretted not getting sound. I wanted to know if she was just breathing hard, or screaming.

Ginny took less than a minute to collect herself and reassemble her clothes. She left the room quickly but without a rush, leaving me there sleeping. With no detectable movement, the recording ended.

I sat staring at the screen, taking in what I'd watched. My cock was in my hand. I clicked Replay.

I came while watching the second playthrough, just as Ginny's second orgasm sent her hips bucking. After that, I tried to figure out what to do. First I took a shower, got my telework done for the day, and changed my bedsheets.

I could write Ginny a letter, now, on paper, while I was still coherent. I would let her know that I appreciated her efforts, but that we would need to have a conversation about it. I sat down and tried to think of what to write.

"Ginny-

"I know what you've been doing, because I put a camera in my bedroom-"

I tore that up.

"Ginny-

"Not that I don't appreciate the blowjobs, but I think we should-"

No.

Where would I even put the letter? On my dining table? Ginny didn't even look there. I could pin it to my shirt, but my insomniac self could tear it off in confusion. I could put it in an envelope with Ginny's name on it, outside my door. Did I have any envelopes? I looked around my apartment and didn't find any. I could just fold the paper over, but that'd be too tempting for the neighbors to snoop on.

But all-in--all, a letter felt too impersonal. I would need to talk to her. I'd just have to stay up, keep my brain alive, and confront her directly. I made a plan. I'd try to nap at midnight, and set three alarms on my phone for 4, 4:15, and 4:25. I should be able to manage a few minutes of non-zombie-brain if I really set my will to it.

I had a box of index cards, so I started taking notes on what I'd say, in case my mind was too blank when the time came. As I started writing individual thoughts on each card, inspiration struck. I'd make a video myself, and I'd pull a new card for each thought and show it to the camera, like that Bob Dylan music video. Or like in the British rom-com, if you're too young for that.

I finished my cards. I got the camera set up on my kitchen table, and sat down in front of it. I started recording it, and waved to the camera. Then I showed each card to the camera in turn, pausing for a 20-count for each one. The whole thing took about six minutes. I stopped the recording and watched the video I'd made.

GINNY- I hope I'm coherent enough this morning to TALK about this

But in case I'm not, I've made this VIDEO

I realize you were telling the truth Sunday evening, about blowing me.

I am SHOCKED by what you're doing

But I have to admit, the results have been beneficial.

I'm in less physical pain, there's less headaches, and I'm more productive.

I'm wasn't sure why you were doing this, but I found out you're enjoying yourself too.

This CAMERA was in my bedroom last night, and recorded everything.

Don't worry! I'll NEVER share this with anyone.

So you're obviously having fun too.

I wish you'd asked me first, but it was an awkward situation, and I CLEARLY needed help.

So I FORGIVE you.

I hope you can forgive me for the CAMERA.

So where do we go from here?

I know your schedule is nearly opposite mine.

But I feel we should get together at the SAME TIME and TALK about this.

Instead of these near-dawn trysts like LADYHAWKE

Can we talk SUNDAY, maybe?

Thanks again ERIC

I set up the laptop on my dining table, with a card that said "GINNY!" in big letters, taped to the screen. I made another that said "Play me", with an arrow pointing to the keyboard. I cued up the video, turned off all my screensaver settings, and plugged in the power cord so it wouldn't die.

I faced the laptop toward my bedroom, so Ginny would see it on her way out. I set the camera on the table next to it, on a little pile of notecards.

That evening, I followed my plan and tried to nap at midnight. No luck. My brain wouldn't shut up, and I have to admit, I was boiling over with curiosity, and, yes, I'll admit, sexual excitement. Things got fuzzy early, sometime around 2.

The 4am alarm woke me from a stupor. I think I'd been patrolling the hallway to my bedroom, straightening pictures, then going back and correcting my previous straightening, over and over. I took out my phone and turned the alarm off, and couldn't remember why I'd set it. I immediately blacked out. The 4:15 alarm shocked me back to 'life', but this time, I couldn't figure out how to turn it off. As my phone blared at me, I took it to the linen closet, and stuffed it under a blanket. I closed the door and could still faintly hear it, so I walked away.

So obviously, I never heard the 4:25 alarm, and the rest of the morning was a blackout.

I woke in my bed at noon on Thursday. I wondered what had happened, but I took my time getting up and checking the computer. I was nervous about what I'd find.

The notecards I'd left on the computer were gone. The camera was where I'd left it, on a little stack of cards. The pile was a bit smaller. There was a new video file. I played it.

I saw Ginny sitting at my table, a nervous look on her face. She sighed, and held up a card, then another and another.

ERIC-

FIRST of all, I'm not mad about the camera.

I understand why you used it

And you actually TOLD ME about it that first night.

So.....

-In the video, Ginny took a deep breathe before holding up the next card

I started doing this because I really liked the look of your cock that day

I've been horny as FUCK ever since this quarantine started.

Do you remember giving me your emergency key?

I came in your apartment than night because I heard you bumping into things.

And WOW! Your cock was out

I liked it, and decided I wanted more of it.

So yeah, I guess I took advantage of you

BUT I also helped you.

I hope in the long run, there's more gratitude than anger.

I understand that we can't keep doing this forever

But during this damn pandemic, my life is kinda in a stalemate.

And I get the sense yours is too.

And I'm still SOOOO horny all the time.

And I'm SOOO scared of going out there and meeting someone

The calls I've taken, you DON'T want to know

So for now, can we PLEASE keep doing this for a while?

If you feel like thanking me, or getting revenge, or whatever

My spare key is in your silverware drawer

I normally get up at 6:30pm to get ready for my shift

-Ginny took another deep breath before showing the penultimate card.

Why not come over, say around 6, and give me a nice wake-up?

GINNY

Then the video ended. I sat thinking a moment, then replayed it from the beginning. She wanted me to come over? To wake her up?

I had 'breakfast' and got my day started. Shower shave brush. Got my work done, did some cleanup around the house, watched a little TV, played a video game. I looked at my phone; it was 5:30. I went and looked in the silverware drawer.

There was a key in there, among the forks. Same style as mine, but a different pattern. I put it in my pocket.

I paced around the apartment a little, watched the video again, and made up my mind. At 6, I left my apartment and walked across the landing to Ginny's door. I let myself in with the key, which worked right away. The deadbolt wasn't engaged. I carefully closed the door without a sound, locked it, and took a look around.