Flash Fiction: A confused voyeur

I was most definitely being treated.

The arch of her back, the heave of her breasts, the swell of her pussy salivating with delight and the soft glow of her radiant skin as her massager drove intense vibrations against her soft cleave was intoxicating. It was Tuesday evening: her show to me, and I was very much enjoying her session of masturbation.

It was her weekly gift, and that evening was particularly intense: no quick rub around her clit, but over an hour of delicious solo love making, coaxing repeated climaxes from her deliciously lithe body: the gentle curves, the succulent breasts that I would do anything to feast on, and long, toned legs. Today, they were encased with the mesh of fishnets. I wanted her.

I wanted to play too, watching as her body shook with unmistakeable zeal and passion. I wanted to submerge my tongue beneath those thighs; I could taste her enjoyment, almost smell her arousal and felt her inflamed desires as she writhed on her luxury bed.

I felt my cock in my hand. It wasn’t the first time I had stroked my shaft as I watched, struggling to keep my binoculars steady one-handed.

She lives in the flat opposite: I watch her every week. Last week, she had an unknown gentleman with her, nothing like her regular guy who was none-so-regular any more. She knelt on the floor, taking his cock into her mouth, and then slid gratefully down his shaft as her new pink dildo filled her cunt.

All seen through the open curtains, from the apartment complex opposite. As was the passionate, guttural romp the week before: the sexy minx pressed against the window as she was fucked doggy style from behind. I could sense the satisfaction from the desire in her eyes as she lewdly acted out the fantasy drawn in my obscene mind.

She was gorgeous, as I watched transfixed, unable to contain the urge to spurt wetness over my balcony.

Thursday night was my turn; the curtains always flung open as I knelt onto the bed to reciprocate the show. Last week, I toyed with my arse, sliding a thin dildo past my anus in my PVC catsuit. Jet black like her hair, holes cut strategically for my play. I spent over an hour teasing the most intense orgasm from my body.

She sent me a private message on Twitter that day. “Most amazing show, ever. Can’t wait until next week. Hope you like Tuesday. X”

I was buzzing, floating on cloud nine as I received that. She liked it, but she always liked my displays, sending me complimentary words after every show, just like I did for her.

She added another. “P.S. We should meet for coffee some time. I have cake and biscuits too!”

I sighed. I wanted to join her for a date, but she’s gorgeous and I’m not. Well out of my league.

So I’m left masturbating to her fantastic shows of epic debauchery wishing what I will never have.

Featured image from here and used under a CC-license.

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