When they first built the Shelton Hotel across the street from my apartment, I was upset. I was on a high floor and had a spectacular view of the whole city. There had been low buildings there before, so I would lie in bed every night facing my big picture window and watch the stars twinkling in the night sky. Far below me, I could hear the sounds of the city. The traffic horns. The fire engines. The ambulances. I was high up near heaven.
Then they blasted the low buildings. A lovely vase that had been my grandmother's fell off the coffee table and smashed onto the floor. Bastards! I had heard that the hotel they were going to build was going to be thirty stories high. I was on the eighteenth floor. I was worried.
It was a large hotel. It took up the whole block across the street. But it started out with low foundations. And every day, fretfully I watched as those foundations grew. Floor by floor. Taller and taller. Eventually the steel girders were stretching far above my head, and I knew that when the concrete and glass followed, I would never again see my stars.
It took two years, but eventually the hotel was completed, and on February First it opened for business. I was out doing my shopping, and as I passed the hotel, I saw guests arriving in taxicabs from the airport, about to check in. The guests were mostly male, and I realized that it would be catering mostly to businessmen, coming into town for meetings and conventions.
All these handsome preppy men in their thirties, forties, and fifties, carrying their suitcases and their laptops. All in freshly pressed business suits, white shirts, and expensive ties. Sometimes they would tighten the knot of the tie, and I would see a gold wedding band on the fourth finger.
I have my girlfriend, Emily. We've been going out for years. She stays over about once a week, and we have sex. I get all hot when she tells me about all the other men she has sex with, the rest of the week. Emily is very promiscuous, and loves to get fucked. And I love to hear about it. Certainly my sex life is not that exciting. I'm really not good at meeting people. And it's much easier for a girl to pick someone up for sex, than for a guy. With all these exciting encounters going on, I can't imagine why Emily still sees me. She knows I'll never get married.
And Emily is a dynamite lady. Slender, long blonde hair, clear blue eyes, ample firm bust, narrow waist, ample firm buttocks, and legs that come almost up to her shoulders. She also has narrow ankles. I love narrow ankles. "Why does she even bother with me?" I keep asking myself that question, but I really know that I'm good-looking. And also I eat pussy better than anyone else in the city. Emily loves to get oral sex. She needs her clit stimulated in order to orgasm. She insists she doesn't have a g-spot in her vagina.
Emily and I used to make love with the night sky and the stars as our backdrop. But no more. Now my view is windows and windows and windows of that accursed hotel facing me. I have to draw the drapes now, when Emily comes over. I have to draw the drapes when I get undressed. I have to draw the drapes all the time. There must literally be fifty windows that can see into my apartment now. I think five floors of the hotel on the side, which faces my apartment have a perfect view of everything I do. I think five floors and about ten windows on each floor have good visibility into my home. That's fifty rooms. Fifty visitors to our fair city have the ability to spy on me each night. So now I draw the drapes. And mostly I keep them drawn. So much for the sunlight and moonlight I had enjoyed before.
I complained about it bitterly to Emily one night when she came over.
"Do you think they can really see us?" She asked.
"Of course," I snapped at her.
She got very quiet. She was thinking.
"That sounds exciting," she finally said.
"What?" I could hardly believe my ears.
"You know what," she said sagely. "All those people watching. I'm getting tingly just thinking about it."
"You wouldn't dare," I said.
"Oh, yes, I would," she insisted. "You don't think it would be fun?"
"No," I protested angrily.
"Think about it," she urged me. I pulled the drapes shut and we got into bed and fucked in the dark.
I started thinking about it. She phoned me every day and kept talking about how hot it would be, and it would be such fun, and it was almost like putting on a show, and she was dying to know the audience reaction.
The day before her next visit, she said, "You don't have to do it. You can stand way back out of view, and I'll lie on the bed and play with myself. It'll get me really excited. Please," she begged.
"All right," I finally agreed.
The next night when she came, she carried a large white piece of cardboard, but she put it in the closet. She wouldn't let me see it. She said it was hers, and none of my business. I had no idea what she had in mind. Later, I would find out.
After dinner, which she cooked, we went into the bedroom and started to fool around a little. I closed the drapes and we were on the bed, kissing and playing with each other. I was squeezing her beautiful tits, and she was moaning, and we were sucking tongues. I stuck one finger under her dress, and worked it up under her panties, until it was deep inside her steaming pussy. I started flicking her clitoris. She was going crazy, bucking up against my hand, her legs flying in the air.
We got undressed, and I crawled between her legs and began licking her sensitive areas. Her hand was pressing my head down into her crotch and her legs were wobbling helplessly on each side of my face.
"Oh, baby. That's it. That's so good. A little more tongue, honey. Yes. Right there. Yes. Oh, yes. I love it. Flick. Flick. Yeeesssss." Nobody could do that like I could.
I figured it was time, so I moved my face away and began kneewalking my penis toward her primed receptacle.
"No," she said, pushing on my chest.
"No?" I was dumbfounded. "Why not? What's wrong?"
"I want you to open the drapes."
"I told you, I'm not going to fuck you in front of all those windows," I reminded her.
"And I told you, you didn't have to. I'll just play with myself, and see what happens. Go over to the far end of the room, where no one can see you."
I did as she suggested. She got up and turned on all the lamps. The room was ablaze with light. Then she walked to the window and pulled open the drapes. Next, she climbed back on the bed directly facing the large window, and started playing with her tits and pussy. I quietly sat down in a chair at the far end of the room and waited.
We talked a little, but she kept her face toward the window, watching, watching.
"Anything yet?" I asked
"I'm not sure. I think I saw one of the curtains move a little." She redoubled her efforts. She licked her lips. She stuck her finger in her vagina, and raised it to her lips. She licked her finger lasciviously. She waved across to the window where she had detected curtain movement.
"There's definitely someone watching," she said. "The way the curtain is fluttering, it looks like someone is jerking off. But it's dark. I can't really say for sure."
She blew a kiss across to the fluttering curtain. She reached over to the lamp beside the bed and started turning it on and off. Then she stretched out her arms in supplication.
"He's opening the curtain," she told me. She started nodding her head happily, and making an 'o' with her thumb and index finger.
"The light just went on," she said. "Wait. He's coming back to the window. He's nude. He's got a hard-on. A big one," she narrated. "He's looking at me, and jerking off in front of the window. Oh. He's cute. He's so cute. I want him." I was happy for Emily, but I was too far back. I couldn't see anything.
Apparently, for the next five minutes, she was playing with herself and he was playing with himself. I was sort of caressing my penis, but I wasn't all that excited. Suddenly she put her hand up in front of her, as if telling him to wait. She scooted from the bed to the closet, and withdrew her big cardboard. She ran to the window and held it in front of the glass. But not too close. She needed light from the room to illuminate it.
"What's that?" I asked again.
This time she answered my question. "It's your telephone number," she informed me. I wrote it very big with a red crayon."
"What? Are you crazy?" I asked her. Flashing my phone number across the street to some stranger jerking off in a hotel room. I was appalled. I scrunched down on the floor, where I could see across, but he couldn't see me. He was reading the phone number and nodding. He was writing it down on a piece of paper. He posed in front of his window for a few more minutes, in a few more positions, to show his hefty cock off. He was so proud of the damned thing. Then he held his hand to his face, mimicking a telephone and disappeared back into the room.
About two minutes later, the phone on the night table rang.
"Hello," answered Emily in a lush sexy voice, picking up the receiver. "Do you like what you see?.... Thank you. You look great too. Very sexy........ Yes, I love your big cock. Do you like my pretty pussy?.......Oh, yes. Oh, yes. I love the way you talk. Yes. I would love to have your big thick dick inside my wet, tight little pussy. I can almost feel it now. It feels so big, and so demanding, and so, how can I put this? Male. I love your big thick cock. Yes. I want it inside my hot cunt, baby. Give it to me. Give it to me."
He had moved back in front of the window with the telephone in his left hand. With his right hand, he was pulling his pud. I was starting to pull my own pud a little. Emily, had been right. This was exciting. As Emily spoke to him, she played with her beautiful breasts and her vagina. Her legs were splayed wide open.
"Yes," she said. "Why don't we get together? Would you like me to come over there, sweetie?......Uh, huh. Uh, huh. Well, what's your room number? 1944? Yes. Yes. I want you so bad too, sweetie. Yes. But you know what. If I have to go out, I have to get dressed and put on fresh makeup. Such a nuisance. Would you mind terribly coming over here?......Oh, great. That would be just great. Yes. It's 972 East 53rd Street. Ring 18L. Yes. Yes. Oh. I can't wait to see you, honey. My name? Emily, sweetie. What's yours? Okay, Ted. I'll see you in a few minutes. I'm waiting for that gorgeous prick of yours.......Bye, sweetie. See you as soon as you can cross the street."
She hung up the receiver and smiled at me. I was in shock.
