I met a girl recently and our relationship has become a very interesting one. I met her at a party my brother threw at his apartment. I've been divorced for the past four years and was just coming out of my shell. Up to this point it had been work, work, work. Now the ex was married, money was coming in and I was more relaxed. As my brother at 20 is 10 years younger than I am, I had a hard time relating to the youthful pessimism of his crowd, so I went out on the balcony for some fresh air and less noise.
Mike (my brother) had a hanging wicker "cocoon" chair there and I sort of disappeared into it. A short while later, another person walked out onto the separate bedroom balcony to the left of me. I had noticed her earlier; a cute little babe with a magnificent mane of bronze colored hair. Apparently, she didn't see me and I remained quiet, watching her through the wicker lattice of the chair. She was wearing a short denim wraparound skirt and a red and white striped sleeveless crew top. Quite obviously, she was not wearing a bra and her nipples poked through the material in the cool night air.
Somebody at the party shouted a suggestion that everyone should go down to the beach and it was heartily seconded, emptying the apartment rapidly. Now it was just the bronze-haired beauty and I. She watched for several minutes as the crowd filtered out of the apartment entrance, three stories below, and headed to the water. She gave another tentative look inside, entered the bedroom, turned out the lights and shut the drapes. The mysterious beauty then walked back out onto the balcony, closing the sliding door behind her.
She gave another look around and then, leaning against the glass, began to caress herself, her fingers lingering the nubs of her tits that poked through the material covering them, pinching them and then, pulling harder and harder, whispering "Yes! Yes!" over and over to herself.
This little show was really beginning to get to me, but I didn't dare move for fear that she would stop. Soon her hand drifted down and then into the flap of her skirt. I watched the movement of her hand underneath the skirt; short, quick strokes of her masturbating coupled with the pinching of her nipples through her blouse had me uncomfortably rock hard. Her breathing became hoarse and soon she was gasping, her body writhing in sexual heat. To my amazement, she suddenly stopped; her hand pulled away, almost as if someone had grabbed it.
Sobbing, she begged an imaginary lover, "No, please! Please don't stop! I was so close!" She humped the air as if it were searching for something hard. "What?" she began again to the ghost in her mind, "Yes, anything! Do anything you want, just make me come!" She swayed against the glass a few more times and then jerked herself upright, really into the fantasy. She caressed herself again and then slowly pulled the tight shirt over her head, closed her eyes as if in a trance and raised her arms upward until her wrists met, dangling the material in the wind. She pushed out her chest slightly, as if being inspected by a phantom lover (or, if I were interpreting the fantasy correctly, her master). To my utter astonishment, she tossed her blouse over the rail and I watched it flutter to fall behind the bushes below. My jaw must have been in my lap as she then removed her skirt, and with the same carefree motion, tossed it over the rail to join her blouse. When my eyes returned to her form, I found that she was absolutely and startlingly naked. She hadn't worn a thing under her skimpy outfit. I now examined her nakedness in the bright moonlight. She was small and thin, with cute little breasts topped with hard little nipples. Her breasts were accentuated by a tapering waist that then rejoiced outward to a smooth, round ass and a cunt that was sparsely covered and gleamed with her lubrication in the moonlight. She wasn't what I would call stunningly beautiful, but that was nullified by her absolute sensuousness. Her hair was magnificent, full and thick, framing a face that didn't need make-up. She could have been twelve or twenty-two -- not that it mattered at the moment!
She stood there in the cool breeze, still into her trance, hands and legs apart, vividly living the fantasy playing in her head. After standing there for several minutes, moaning and shivering, she stopped and went to her purse on the chair. Rummaging around for a few minutes, she pulled out several items of interest and then resumed her spot near the rail of the small balcony. She spread her arms and legs again, then slowly brought her hands up to her breasts. She tugged and massaged the nipples to a taut hardness. Then, with a swift intake of breath and a shudder, she quickly moved her hands away. I gasped silently as I saw an alligator clip attached to each nipple with small chains ending in heavy lead weights, dangling in the slight breeze.
