Peeping Tom

I looked at the clock and pulled back the curtain. There he was. In his same spot. Naked. He had no idea that I knew. He never would.

And there she was. The show was starting. She began as she always did, slowly unfastening her hair, shaking it out and running her fingers through the long blond waves. Then she turned to face him. Her hands at her breast, unbuttoning the pale yellow cardigan.

The silver pendant at her throat caught a glint of light from the adjacent building. Her fingers parted the sweater, exposing her soft white, lacy lingerie and smooth, taut stomach. Her breasts were full and round. Small, but plump and firm.

He stroked himself. He wasn’t an extremely fit man, but he was very tall and broad shouldered. His cock was plenty long and thick. I dreamed to have his delicious frosting dripping off my lips one day. He liked to start with his fingers slowly caressing from the base of his shaft where his scrotum began and work his way to the tip.

The woman turned round then, her back to him as she unzipped the little grey skirt. It dropped to the floor, her round, perky cheeks taking center stage. She bent down, presumably to unfasten her shoes, and her lovely ass spread to reveal the thin pink line from her panty.

He stared, mesmerized, and reached for the lube he always hid nearby in the chair. I watched it glisten as it coated his cock. He rubbed it in, working himself into a raging erection. His enormous hands hid only half the perfectly proportional member when it was fully aroused. I wanted so badly to sit on it. Preferably with my face buried between the cheeks of her ass. I wanted to taste that little pink line, and pull it back to reveal her secret spot.

She stood now, unhooking her bra and sliding it off. She faced him again, flinging the bra to the side, and rubbing her breasts. She closed her eyes and touched them the way I longed to do. Her little fingers made lazy circles around her pink nipples.

He worked his cock faster now, watching her intently. I reached between my legs and felt my own pussy start to swell. The scent of her was already evident and I felt the wet spot growing.

She looked at him, rubbed the spot between her legs through the pink fabric. I knew she was as wet as I. She pinched a nipple and closed her eyes, her face showing her pleasure. With her ass turned back toward him, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and tugged them down at an agonizing pace.

Her pussy was perfect. Succulent. Pink. Wet. From what I could see, her entire body was perfection. I touched my own breasts and gasped at their sensitivity.

He stroked harder now, coaxing his orgasm and leaning back. His eyes still watched her, hypnotized by her performance. I saw him struggle to last, but only for a moment before he exploded, covering his abs and hands with his cum.

I worked my pussy, massaging my clit and looking back to her. She smiled at him, winked in my direction, and closed the blinds. He sat back, his eyes closed, reveling in the post climactic bliss. The show had ended for tonight. He never bothered to shield his window, and I was grateful.

Left alone in my fantasy, I stood and pulled the curtain shut. I’d finish my fun in a hot bath, as I assumed she must do every night. The realtor had been correct. This apartment does have the best view of the city.

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