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Room With A View
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Room With A View (Part 1)
I first saw you last Sunday.
The scene from my apartment has nothing to recommend it, except that it
looks directly into your rooms in the block adjoining mine. So far
there had been nothing much to see as your curtains are generally drawn
and the most I'd ever noticed before were brief glimpses of your
silhouette in outline against them. I certainly don't consider myself a
voyeur or peeping tom, but this did not stop me hoping eventually for a
sight of something more substantial. Those hopes were fleetingly,
tantalisingly rewarded last Sunday.
For the first time in a long while your curtains had not been drawn
though it was well after sunset. When from the corner of my eye I was
aware of your bedroom light suddenly going on, I rushed to peer through
my lounge room curtain. You must have just showered. The towel wrapped
around your body reached from your breasts to the middle of your thighs,
but water still glistened on your shoulders as you entered the room and
your hair was hanging free, wild and wet as it lay across your
shoulders. You walked to the window and reached to draw the curtain,
but paused for a moment to look out. Rapidly I pulled back from my
window, hoping desperately you hadn't noticed me staring at you. I
peered cautiously back over the sill just as you closed the curtains.
Was it my imagination, or was there the trace of a knowing smile on your
lips as you removed yourself from my devouring, enraptured eyes?
I was besotted with the hope of seeing more, inflamed by the actions of
my imagination into picturing what was going on behind the flimsy but
impenetrable barrier that kept you from my sight. Every evening on
arriving home I made sure to check my view of your rooms before even
turning on a light, for fear of alerting you to my presence. After ten
days of frustration, tonight I received my reward.
Again your bedroom curtains were opened, but I thought little of it as
your whole flat was dark and clearly you were out. I was about to turn
away, resigned to another evening of impatient disappointment, when your
hall light went on. My heart leapt as you entered the bedroom. Still
in your work clothes, your elegantly tailored suit in dramatic contrast
to my previous sight of you, you paused briefly to drop your valise on
the bed and slip off your shoes. I desperately tried to drink it all
in, to savour every second before you were once again lost to me. As
you reached to close off my view I felt the familiar surge of
disappointment followed immediately by profound elation at the
realisation that, in your hurry or tiredness, you hadn't pulled the
curtains completely shut. You had left a small but significant gap
which, from where I was at present, allowed me to see you turn to open
your wardrobe. You removed and neatly put away your suit jacket and
skirt. You turned again to face me, languidly peeling off your blouse
and casually dropping it to the floor, then for a few brief seconds you
lingered there in your white bra and panties.
Just as suddenly you were gone, moving off to my left. From the
position of your shadow on the curtain I guessed you were now seated at
a dressing table. I rushed from my lounge room, hoping against hope
that from the far right of my bedroom window the angle would be such
that I could once again get a view of you. My cock surged when I parted
the curtain and saw you, my view now obliquely over your left shoulder,
sitting at the table as I suspected, removing your makeup. I hoped it
would take a long time, to allow me to savour you fully.
Your legs were splayed slightly astride the chair as you peered at the
make-up mirror, dabbing at your face with cotton balls and a cloth. You
seemed absorbed by the intensity of your concentration.
Just as suddenly you were done, stretching your arms above your head to
let the tension of the day drain from your body, then reaching back to
release your hair, which unlike Sunday had until then been tied back in
a loose ponytail. As it cascaded around and over your shoulders as you
shook it free I tried to soak in every detail of your extravagantly
feminine, lithe body. Your skin was golden brown, with an all-over tan
which showed you got a lot of sun. You also must get regular exercise
because your muscles were sharply defined and there did not appear to be
an ounce of excess fat. I gazed in wonder at the arch of your spine,
wishing I was stroking my way down that sublime curve to the small of
your back. From there I could run my hands over the pert globes of your
tush, move up to savour the sweet convexity of your waist, and then....
My reverie was interrupted as you paused for a moment, again peering
intently at the mirror. I was sure you were about to get up and leave.
You need only move a foot to the right and you would be lost to me
again, when to my profound delight you instead placed your hands
deliberately on your waist and slid them both slowly up and across your
stomach - exactly as I had imagined myself doing ten seconds ago. Now
you were reaching up to cup your breasts, one in each hand. My view was
obscured, but it wasn't hard to tell that you were palping and caressing
them, slowly and deliberately, through the fabric of your bra. Your
back began to arch gently up and down, in rhythm with your hands. Next
your head joined in, swaying slowly both up and down and from side to
side, as though responding to some enchanted music which only you could
hear. I thought my prick would burst, it was now so hard. This was
beyond anything I had ever hoped to see, and I rapidly ripped off my
trousers to free it. With one hand I slowly stroked myself in response
to your rhythms, yet careful not to apply too much pressure. I had
waited so diligently for this, I was going to ensure I made it last.
You now reached back, still arching up and down on your chair to keep
pressure on your clit which must be responding as enthusiastically as I
to the stimulation of your nipples, and released your bra. When it
dropped out of sight I saw I was correct in assuming that you were a
sun-lover, as your tan extended without a discernible break to include
all your upper body. I could see the profile of your left breast,
swinging free and full, and even at this distance could tell the nipple
was standing firm and erect.
Briefly you paused to reach out of view, returning with a small bottle.
As I watched you cupped your left breast in your left hand and with the
bottle in your right carefully permitted a few drops of oil to fall onto
your upper breast. At first, gravity languidly worked the unguent
across the top of your skin, letting it slowly surround your nipple.
After repeating the action out of my view on your right-hand side, your
returned to work the oil on and around each nipple, tweaking them slowly
and deliberately, gazing intently at yourself in the mirror as you did
so, then switching to squeeze both breasts tightly together, rubbing
them and writhing up and down as the tempo of your responses quickened.
By now I was as desperate as you appeared to be. All I could think of
were those oiled breasts with their erect, slippery nipples. If only I
was astride you I could hold them together as I thrust my cock in and
out of the gap between them, held as tightly and as smoothly as if I
were ramming into your cunt. I looked down at my circumcised tool, its
head now engorged and almost purple in colour, and increased the rate of
stroking until I could take no more. I threw back my head as I came,
the cum spurting out violently across the room, wishing instead that it
was spraying across your upper body.
As soon as I had recovered enough to re-focus my attentions I saw that
you had not been idle either. Your chair was now rotated and was facing
directly towards me, its back supported by the table so there was no
danger of you toppling over if you rocked backed too vigorously. Your
administrations had now turned as I knew they must from your nipples to
your clit, freed now from your panties. With your legs spread I could
see the vivid, juicy pink of your inflamed cunt lips nestled within your
luxuriant bush as you continued massaging yourself, eyes closed and with
a gentle smile playing across your lips. You continued rocking back and
forth, your breasts standing free now and responding in kind.
As I watched, my currently sated cock dangling before me, I revelled in
the sublime beauty of a female body approaching ecstasy. You slipped
first one, then two fingers into your now dripping cunt, no doubt
applying exactly the right pressure to exactly the right spot. I longed
to be kneeling submissively before you, burying my face into your mons,
savouring the juices redolent of your sex and probing you with my
tongue. I wanted to lap gently yet insistently at your engorged,
sensitive clit and responding to your needs - to share with you the
sublime pleasure you had just given me.
Yet I also felt privileged just to watch you, separate from yet in a
sense participating in your desire. My cock was rising again. This
time I settled on my bed and as I stroked myself with my right hand
slipped a finger from my left gently yet firmly into my ass, slowly
increasing the tempo of my strokes as I saw you increasing yours. By
now your right hand was lodged deeply in your cunt, while your left had
returned to your left breast which you had raised as far as possible
towards your mouth. With your tongue you could just flick the nipple,
and the resultant stimulation clearly was driving you over the top. You
were rocking up and down so hard I was afraid for a moment that you must
damage your right hand. The tenseness enveloping your body as you
approached orgasm was evident in the look of desperation in your face
and the tight, drawn line of your mouth. Yet you must also have known
you were about to be released, desperate to come yet also frantically
revelling in the higher plane of pleasure you had now attained and were
unwilling to abandon.
Suddenly, your head was thrown backwards and you released your breast.
You were screaming out - soundlessly for me of course, yet as excitingly
and clearly as if you were beside me - as you thrust your body down onto
the fingers engaging your clit, at the same time clamping your legs
tight with all the strength you could muster as you rode the orgasm
rocking your whole body. The stimulation, both visual and physical, was
too much for me and I came soon after, more gently than before yet just
as deliciously.
For several seconds you remained motionless, your head still thrown
back, as though you did not want to move and break the spell which had
enveloped you. An aftershock of the first orgasm rippled through your
body, bringing you back reluctantly to the present. After gently
removing your right hand from its current lodgement, you gingerly rose
from the seat, still a little shaken by the force with which you came.
You returned the chair to its usual position, then turned to leave. As
you rose you noticed the gap you had left in the curtain. When you
peered through it, your face glowing with the sensuality and satiation
of a post-orgasmic woman, I felt for a split-second as though you were
looking straight at me. It was impossible of course. With the light
behind you my bedroom window would have been an impenetrable pitch black
and yet I flushed with embarrassment at the thought of being discovered.
Surely it was just my imagination that you gave the merest of waves as
you finally pulled the curtain completely shut.
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