Athen Grey - Author

Complex Lives - a Novel by Athen Grey

Peter, just out of rehab and looking for a place to live, meets Trina on a city bus and develops a crush. They strike up a conversation, and Trina introduces him to her six-foot-seven drag queen landlord, who welcomes Peter until she discovers he is broke.
Tipper is married and has a kid, but his life is boring...until he meets Peter and falls for the straight man.
Dasher is a workaholic, and his life if fairly simple until his mother and her new nineteen-year old stud of a husband swoop down and disrupt Dasher's life in every way imaginable.
Dasher's best friend, Dancing Queen, has been drugging and "catching" for four days non-stop at the local bath house.
But Mamma Maim and the sistas are oblivious to most of the antics in the apartment complex as they plan a gala extrodinaire as a memorial to their friend who recently committed suicide.
Welcome to the zany and off-balance lives of the residents at the Dallas Colonnades, as they try desperately to find themselves, sex and love amidst constant chaos.
Now Available Complex Lives is now available online and in paperback formats.
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Chapter One - Wigless
Overnight it seemed the entire Dallas Colonnades apartment complex had been cast into the bowels of hell and it wore low on Lady Lulu, the leasing manager. Before she could finish teasing her spring wig and mainline her first pot of espresso there had been a suicide, a lost dog, a broken water main, and a domestic argument - all on opposite ends of the twenty-building gated community. Over the calamity one could hear the clip-clop of her feathered cha-cha heels as the lost Saint Bernard dragged the gender illusionist from the coroner outside the apartment of the suicide, through the flooded parking lot toward the domestic situation which had escalated to a stand-off with a hostage. "Sit, Bowser!" she shouted with a low rusty voice wrecked by bourbon and cigars. "Sit, goddamn it!"
"Stop," shouted one of Dallas' finest at Lady Lulu as she approached. She was obviously not in control of the dog. "We have a situation!" he yelled to any other officer within earshot.
"Tell that to Bowser!" Lady Lulu screamed. "If you ruin my shoes I'll have to make you into glue and I'll you use to fix them!" The determined St. Bernard blindly bounded toward the middle of the commotion, barking insistently, and Lady Lulu couldn't have stopped if had she wanted to.
"Let go of the leash," yelled the young policeman, trying first to grab the dog's collar then Lady Lulu's waist as they raced by. "Hold your fire," he shouted, attempting to regain balance. "Don't shoot!"
"Knock it off you bitchy queens," one of the tenants, Dasher, bellowed from inside his second floor patio screen. "If I'm late for work again I'll shoot you myself."
As if Bowser were making a debutants' grand entrance at her coming out party, he slowed to a saunter, raised his head and sat pristinely facing the semi-circle of squad cars. Lady Lulu slowly regained composure, shaking a pebble from her cha-cha, tugging the hem of her skin-tight flowered dress over the cheeks of her booty, situating the nylon skull cap on her head, and dabbing the lipstick at the corners of her mouth before turning her six-foot-four frame to face the third floor balcony. Miss Sissy had committed suicide and the last thing she needed that morning was petty drama. "T and T, get your asses down here. Now!"
Two police officers cautiously approached Lady Lulu, one still aiming his gun at the third floor. "Ma'am," one said calmly, touching her shoulder. "Please come with me."
"Unless you're going to kiss me and take me to breakfast, kindly remove your hand," she snapped, slapping his hand away without looking. "Tyler! Tyrone! I'm counting to three!"
"One of them has a gun," whispered the officer.
Lady Lulu turned with a chastising look and shouted loud enough for everyone in the parking lot to hear. "There is no gun
"Yes, there is," Tyrone yelled from the shadows of the third floor apartment. "And I'll use it."
"Bitch ain't got no gun," came Tyler's high-pitched scream. "The only gun she's toting is the cheating one between her legs."
"Tyler," Lady Lulu shouted, "what the hell is going on?"
Tyler, a fem fatale, appeared on the patio wearing a sheer muumuu exposing white laced panties beneath. The police cocked their weapons. "What's going on?" she repeated. Tyler swept back into the apartment shouting, "Girrrl, I'll tell you what going on. Get your bitch asses out there! I'm not twirling. No you don't need no clothes, neither, you whores. Get your asses out there." Tyler pushed Tyrone and Tipper, another man who lived in the complex, onto the balcony. Both were completely naked. Tipper covered his privates while Tyrone stood tall and unashamed of his gym-body. "I walked in on their cheating asses and the bitches don't have no decency to stop."
That day suddenly became Christmas, New Years and Lady Lulu's birthday all wrapped into one. She had been waiting to see Tyrone nude since he signed the lease two years prior. Where was her camcorder when she needed it? she thought. There he stood, individual muscles rippling and flexing as if dancing with each other in the morning sun. His fists were firmly placed on his hips as if he were a super hero. And, as she suspected from seeing his swimsuit clad package at the pool, he was hung like a plow mule. She could feel herself getting moist.
"He clawed me with those dragon nails," offered Tyrone.
"Not until you bitch-slapped me!" Tyler countered. Starting to cry he fanned himself. "Shit! My makeup."
"You wear too much anyway," snipped Tipper.
"Cunt!" Tyler banshee-screamed, slapping Tipper silly and crying harder.
Trying to keep his privates covered Tipper had only one arm to protect his pretty-boy face. Tyrone jumped into super-hero action pulling Tyler away and nodding for Tipper to leave.
"Come on, Bowser," Lady Lulu said with a tug of the leash. She turned to the police. "I'll leave the rest to you good ol' boys."
"What about the gun?" one officer asked the other.
"There is no gun," Lady Lulu huffed. "They were eight when they watched their father kill their mother then pull the trigger on himself. Really fucked 'em up. They're terrified of guns." Bowser walked in the direction of the flooded parking lot.
"They're brothers?" asked one officer.
The other countered, confused, "But I thought they were-"
"Lovers?" Lady Lulu shouted back. Bowser picked up speed. "Yes, they're lovers and brothers. Twins actually, and boyfriends."
"Not no more," Tyler screeched as Tyrone pulled him into the apartment.

Chapter Two Motion Detection

"Sounds like T and T are at it again," said John, peeking at the parking lot through the bedroom blinds. "Cops with guns and everything. And Dasher's out there screaming at everyone about being late for work."
"Can't be too bad since they didn't wake me this time," Jane replied, rolling over in bed, stretching. "Would you ever sleep with your sister?"
"Are you crazy? That's incest."
"The only reason it is incest is because copulation could cause mentally challenged children. What about your brother?"
"How do you come up with this crap?" He spread the blinds wider. "You should see this. Tyler just ran downstairs and he's hitting Dasher and pulling his hair. Tyrone and the cops are trying to break it up."
"Obviously some people don't think its crap or it wouldn't be happening two floors above us. T and T can't give birth or so why is it incest?"
"Because it's sick." John crossed the room and glanced at his piss-hard dick in wall-to-wall mirrors on his way to the bathroom, unaware that his movement triggered a motion detector on the other side of the mirrors.
The camcorder turned on inside the maintenance closet that shared a common wall with Jane and John's bedroom. For most of the evening it sat in stand-by mode waiting to be activated by the motion detector. The red "recording" light had been covered with a snip of black electrical tape, and a cord dangled to the crevice between the ceiling and wall where the microphone was inconspicuously hidden.
During the previous six months the camcorder had recorded a total of ninety-three hours of Jane and John - six hours and forty-three minutes of nudity including two hours and thirteen minutes of actual sex. Prior to purchasing the camcorder Gary averaged three hours a night and two hours every morning sitting in the maintenance closet waiting patiently to see some flesh. A number of times Gary feared he had been discovered while John stood before the mirror admiring his strong shaven Italian body and washboard abs. Suddenly, John would stop, his eyes widening as he glimpsed Gary's movement behind the mirror. Those times John actually thought the movements were behind him in the bedroom. It happened often enough that John had convinced himself that they had a ghost in the apartment. During those months Gary would occasionally sneak into John and Jane's apartment while they were away and move the remote control from the living room to the bedroom in an attempt to perpetuate John's fantastical stories of the ghost.
After purchasing the camcorder Gary no longer needed to be present, and captured a full week of digital footage on one memory card. That gave him the idea to share his voyeuristic tendencies with others, and he began to transfer the sex footage to www.voyuer-cam.com.
The camcorder that faced John and Jane's bedroom was the first of seven throughout the complex. The equipment had been purchased online and delivered to an abandoned warehouse in Deep Ellum so no one could trace the equipment to Gary. The web site quickly became a favorite among voyeurs because the "models" were carefully selected young, attractive, well endowed and computer illiterate so the chances of them logging onto the pay-per-view web site and discovering themselves in amateur porn would be nil. If someone else were to expose the site to one of the unsuspecting models, the deception of ownership had been buried so deep in fake holding companies that it would take the best intellectual property lawyers years to reveal the true perpetrator.
John returned to the bedroom and stood before the mirror, slowly stretching and twisting his body. "Do you think my dick has gotten smaller since I started this cycle?"
"No," Jane said through a yawn as she stood. She walked behind him and cupped his scrotum. "But your nuts have shrunk like a school boy's."
"I've started the HCG."
"Maybe you should take the Clomid, too."
"Not supposed to for two weeks."
"Then be patient. They always come back." She kissed his back and headed toward the shower. "Love you, babe."
"Aren't you going to finish the job?" he asked, nodding down.
"Grabbing your nut sack is not starting something that needs to be finished." Turning on the faucet she draped her hand in the water waiting for it to warm. "Besides, I have to pick up Mrs. Ying."
"Don't you think it would be more humane to pick her up after she grocery shops rather than dropping her off before hand?" He pinched a nipple and slowly stroked himself. "Sure you don't want to help me?"
Jane stepped into the shower, saying, "Ask your brother."
"Aw, sick fuck! Thanks for the stiff-kill." He pulled on a pair of shorts and a "Personal Trainer" T-shirt, grabbed his weight belt and said, "I'm going to work."
"Okay." She listened for the front door, and as soon as it locked she dried off a bit, grabbed the cell phone and dialed. "Kevin? Yeah. He just left and he's working until five, so I'll leave the door unlocked. Be sure to deadbolt it when you come in. Okay, see you in a few." She hopped back in the shower to finish shampooing.
In the maintenance room the camcorder ran a few more minutes and clicked into stand-by mode. The next time the motion detector sensed movement the camcorder would capture what would become one of Gary's most cherished hidden cam moments.