A Room with a View

He’s there again. I can see him in the flat opposite, walking around in just his boxer shorts. He’s really ripped; obviously works out regularly. But my eyes keep going to the bulge in his shorts. There’s something big in there; and I bet it gets bigger.

I’ve been thinking about this for a few weeks, ever since I first noticed him. He often walks round in his underwear with the curtains open, and it’s a real treat, believe me. People pay good money to see guys like him getting undressed, and here I am getting it for nothing.

But after a while, a girl gets fed up with just watching.

And that’s what today is about.

Maybe what I do next is a bit risky, but I’m in the mood for risky. I pull the curtains of my room right open, then start to get undressed myself. I do it casually at first, just pulling off my t-shirt and walking around in my nice black bra. It’s pretty skimpy, and shows my firm tits off nicely. I’m glad I’ve been keeping up my gym sessions too, so my tummy is pretty trim. Nothing to be ashamed of there.

Good, I think he’s seen me. He’s stopped walking around, and is standing where he thinks I can’t see him. But I can, because I know he’s there.

He’s hooked; now I just need to reel him in.

I stand in the window, letting him get a good look at my body. I start to undo my tight jeans; just the top couple of buttons, then I walk away, teasing, trying to make it look natural.

He must be holding his breath, hoping I’ll come back.

And I do, wandering back in front of the window, my jeans loose; then pause, take hold of them, and pull them down. Now he can see I’m wearing matching black panties; small and lacy, meant to be seen, and not just by me.

I think his hand’s inside his boxer shorts. Oh goodness, that’s right. I can see it moving. He’s playing with himself, stroking his dick. At least he must like what he sees.

Do I dare take the next step?

It’s now or never. I reach behind my back and find the catch on my bra. Here goes. With an expert twist, I undo it, and in one casual movement let the straps slip down my arms. And there they are. Hello boys.

I turn casually, watching my bare breasts swing to and fro. They’re firm and perky, not at all droopy, and my dark nipples stand out nicely, already hard with excitement. I look out of the window. He’s still there, his hand buried in his shorts. By this time he must know I’ve seen him, but he’s not moving away. He must guess what’s going on.

I squeeze my boobs, and blow him a kiss, letting him know I’ve seen him. I make a fist, put my hand to my crotch, and give him the well-known wanking gesture. He smiles. He gets it. He takes his hand out, takes hold of his boxers, and jiggles them down a little way.

Now he’s teasing me. I can see the dark bush of pubic hair above his dick. It’s a big rod, I can tell that much. Come on, you dirty boy, show us what you’ve got.

Luckily the teasing doesn’t last long. He pulls his boxers down, and his erection springs out. It’s a cracker, looks about eight inches, rock hard, and rearing up at about 45 degrees.

He gets hold of it between his thumb and forefinger, and pulls down the foreskin, revealing the thick purple head, letting me get a good look. Even from here I can see it’s glistening with pre-come.

He makes a “come on over” gesture. I shake my head; after all, we hardly know each other. Besides, I’m enjoying this. It’s like flirting, but naughtier. Instead, I pull my own panties off. That’s only fair. He deserves to see the neat dark triangle of pubic hair on my mound, trimmed short and tidy.

We’re both fully nude now, hiding nothing. He’s masturbating properly, pulling on his hard dick, giving me a show. I rub my hand over my pudenda, then down towards my slit. I can feel the heat; it’s time to let him see what I can do.

I raise one leg high, putting my foot on the windowsill, so he can see the pink slit between my legs. I get two fingers ready, show them to him, then slide them over the folds of my labia before pushing them up inside my vagina. Goodness, I’m sopping wet up there. I can hear the schlup, schlup, schlup as my fingers thrust in and out, and feel dribbles of juice run down over my hand. I take the fingers out and wiggle them at him, wondering if he can see the sticky moisture.

He smiles, and puts his fingers in his mouth. I get the message, and do the same. My juices taste nice; tangy and clean. I lick my lips as I put my fingers back in my pussy, and begin to rub at my clitoris with my other hand.

It’s pretty much a race to the finish now. He’s alternating between full-on dick pumps with his fist, and gentle circling of fingers round the shiny knob. I can see beads of sweat on his chest. I’m pistoning my fingers deeper and faster into my vagina, droplets of pussy juice splashing everywhere. I wonder if I should get my vibrator, but it’s a bit late for that now.

There’s a sudden flurry of movement from him. Here we go. He stands up against the window, pointing his erection in my direction. He opens his mouth, holds his dick steady, and ejaculates. I watch as a thick loop of semen shoots from the end, splashing against the window pane. Several more follow, until there are six or seven gloopy strings of it, starting to run down the inside of the pane.

As I watch the last drops of semen drip from his dick, I feel myself coming too. My fingers strum faster and faster at my clitoris, and then it hits me, that unique electrifying tingle. I have to steady myself on the window to stop myself collapsing. It’s a good one. I’m sweating too, and my heart is beating like crazy.

As I slowly come down from my orgasm, I take my three fingers out of my soaking pussy, and run them down my own window, leaving a trail of sticky juices. Not as spectacular as his stuff, but I can smell it, sharp and fresh. I press my naked body against the glass, crushing my breasts and hard nipples. Kneeling down, I lick the smears of pussy juices off the window, then stand up again and push my pelvis forward against the glass, trying to leave more smears directly from my sticky labia.

He’s still stroking his wilting dick, and I watch as he rubs it against the window, through the trails of semen, leaving longer trails of mess. Then he leans down and licks his own ejaculate off the window. That’s so cool: I love a guy who doesn’t mind the taste of his own semen.

Still breathing heavily, I stand back, and run my fingers through my smears again. He’s mouthing something at me; it looks like the word “tomorrow”. I nod, and blow him another kiss. I think I’m going to have to get to know him a bit better, but tomorrow is another day.