Drone - Cover

Drone

Copyright© 2025 by wantsomefun

Chapter 18

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 18 - A couple of college aged guys deploy a drone to spy on local college girls, hoping to see some nude sunbathing, showering, and more sexual activity. When they accidentally recording video of a rapist and his victim, they have a moral dilemma: report what happened and face charges themselves for "peeping" or forget what they saw. More attacks take place, reluctantly forcing them into action.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   NonConsensual   Rape   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Voyeurism   Violence  

I jogged across the street and down the alley past Mick’s truck toward the area where we saw him on the drone. I hid behind a parked car and peered into the haphazard illumination from houses onto the alley. Eventually I spotted him. I dialed 911.

“911 Emergency. Do you need police, fire, or ambulance?”

As quietly as I could I spoke to the dispatcher. “I need to report a prowler. There’s a man in Veteran’s Alley between Third and Fourth Streets. He’s hiding behind hedges and cars and checking out the houses. I’m outside too, hiding from him. That’s why I can’t talk louder.”

“Your name, sir?”

“Jason Long.”

“Can you see the prowler now?”

“He’s hiding behind a hedge. Oh, wait. He’s running across the back yard of a house with scaffolding set up outside. He’s climbing it.”

“Police are responding.”

“He’s trying to look in the windows. There’s a light on in one room. I’m going to move so I can see him better. Okay. He moved to the other end of the house. It looks like he’s trying to jimmy a window open. The room looks dark behind it.”

“Can you tell me the exact address, sir?”

“I’m out back. Can’t see a house number. We’re on the odd-numbered side of Third Street, six houses from the intersection with Vine Street. The place has yellow siding on the side walls and some of the back. The houses on either side are brick.”

“Thank you sir. Units are responding.”

A few seconds later blue and red lights appeared at the end of the alley. I walked out of the shadows and beckoned to two officers exiting the car. “He’s in there.” I pointed to the open window on the second floor of the house. “I called it in.”

The cops approached, weapons unstrapped in their holsters. I raised my hands, holding my phone so they could see what it was. One officer got on his radio. “Dispatch, was the caller male?” Satisfied I wasn’t the prowler, he said, “Car One Four from Car One Seven, we’re behind a house with yellow siding. My partner is going out front. It should be number 311 Third Street.” He turned to me. “Can you describe the man you saw enter the building?”

“Big guy, Caucasian, dark clothes. He climbed those metal steps and went in through that open window.”

“Hair?”

“Looked kinda red.”

“Facial hair?”

“I think he had a beard.”

“Dispatch, advise all responding units, this may be our serial rapist.” To me he said, “Get in the back seat of my car.”

“Why?”

“Safest place for you. Units are going to be looking for a man on foot.” He closed the back door and jogged away.

 
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