I'm a watcher, I like to watch. That's why I end up in closets and hampers and it's why I have an extensive collection of long distance lenses. I don't like to record and I don't want to partake-most of the time. I just want to watch, whether they know I'm there or not. It's just for me. It's my thing.
A voyeur through and through. And there are a surprising amount of folks out there that really appreciate me watching from the shadows-sometimes right out in the open-as they do their thing. So, I end up in a lot of cramped spaces, peering, savoring, watching. That's me. The watcher. A consummate professional and connoisseur.
The closet was crammed full of clothes. It smelled like generic fabric softener, but there was more than a hint of the scent of her body in there, too. It was comfortable in there, stuffed in amongst the bras and panties and summer dresses and shoes, all smelling of her. I could hear her talking in the living room downstairs. Her date had just arrived and I could smell perfume all the way upstairs and through the thin slats of the closet door. It was a warm fragrance—spice with wood and touch of clove; the type of perfume an assertive, domineering woman would wear.
A touch masculine, but distinctly feminine when it mingled with a woman's flesh. It clashed with the odors of the closet in the best of ways. It gave me clues about what their sex would be like, who would take charge, and who would take it like a good girl. An aromatic foreshadowing of one taking hard the reigns and getting what she wanted from a willing, exuberant lover.
There was a thud against the living room wall and a muffled moan-I had to smile. They were already at it. The door had scarcely closed before I heard the two women slam into a bookcase, embracing, kissing, giggling. I heard a heavy jacket thud to the wooden floor, leather and steel studs, followed by a jangling belt.
The date kicked off her shoes, and they thudded against the baseboards. Another moan-they were already in the zone from the jump. I could tell they both had been thinking of each other all day. Thinking of how they would use each other's bodies. Take and receive. There was no time for pleasantries or pussy-footing around. They knew what they wanted. What they needed. And it was just what I needed, too, tucked away like a dirty afghan in the corner of the dark bedroom closet.
Pants hit the ground. Two pairs. Then there was the sound of bare feet in the hall, perspiring skin on hardwood, then clambering up the stairs. Soon they would be in the bedroom, where I was shifting in my skin, eager to watch their bodies fall to the bed. A wave of heat and perfume pushed into the room ahead of them, like a storm front of desire and heavy breathing.
The woman who lived in the apartment-let's call her
Brin
-came into the room first, leading her date-
Laura
-by the hand towards the bed. Brin was tall and thin; sharp angles terminating in delicious little curves in all the right places. Clad in her tight white boy-briefs and ghostly-thin tank top, she swayed in the room like a runway model, making her tight, bubble butt and angular hip bones work with a practiced walk. She certainly knew how to move, and I could tell she likes to be watched. A solid performer through and through.
Her small breasts bounced against sheer fabric, braless beneath her thin top, finger-tip nipples proudly erect. I could almost feel the sensation, sharing the pleasure of her nipples against the fabric, friction on the firmness as she danced. Her date came in, towed by the hand, slowly, taking in every move Brin made. Laura—is what we'll call her—Laura's androgynous face was balanced wonderfully with thick, full, ruby red lips, the lower of them clamped hard between her glowing white grin. Her face cast down, her thin, bright eyes honing in on her prey, truly like a tiger just-peering through the tall blades of grass, claws flexing and hungry. Laura let herself be guided towards the bed and for a long moment she just stood, watching as I did.
It was a fantastic view, in that moment, Laura standing, her body strong and curvaceous, all tan, glistening skin and tattoos, her resplendent ass and thick thighs, circled in delicate tribal tattoos that wrapped around her legs, slithering up into her very tiny, black panties, like a very curious serpent. Oh, how I would have loved to have been that tattoo artist. Or even that tattoo itself. Laura swayed her hips, letting me take in the well-honed muscles of her lower back and hips, all while the nymph, Brin slowly, deliberately gyrated, stretching her slender arms up high over her head, pulling off the thin tank top and tossing it back over the bed where it slumped in the corner. I would have loved for that article of clothing to land right on my lap.
Then there was a sharp squeal as Laura put her hands on Brins' sides and shoved her back onto the bed. It was a gorgeous display of pert bouncing tits and thighs and a cascade of red hair going wild as Brin fell to her back on the soft, white sheets.
At once, the bed still rocking, her thin fingers were down the front of her panties, that I could see for the first time, were all but transparent. The dull outline of her fingers finding her clit and making tiny circles was visible for all the lucky onlookers. Brin bit her lip and looked up at Laura standing over her, pulling Brin around her, taking the pale limbs around her thick, tan hips and pressing their bodies closer. Laura's hands slid up and down the long white legs. The sound of skin moving over skin, toned with lust, was sublime. The sharp inhalations from both of them rose in intensity and I found my body responding to the resonant waves of arousal that rolled like electricity from their primed bodies. There was so much feminine arousal. Something that as a man, I had not felt—as I'd never been close to being in a three-way. Every fiber of my being desired them.
I wanted to explode, and I wanted them to take me. Smash me between them like the meat in a panini. But I am the watcher, after all, and so I simply swelled and widened my gaze, pressing my face closer in the dark to the slats in the wooden door. With no further formalities, Laura took hold of the translucent briefs and nearly ripped them off of the pale, supple body spread out on the bed before her. Brin let out an excited gasp and her smile widened, fingers working frantically.
The wet sound was loud enough that I could hear it well over their breathing and the shuffle of bodies and bedding. And then, yet another beautiful view for only the ones in the front row... Laura, on her knees, with ease she pulled Brin to the edge of the bed and moved Brin's hand from her wet pussy up to her breast, Laura's eager tongue taking the job of Brin's frantic fingering. Brin moaned as lips wrapped and sucked and her tongue began workings that I could only guess at. And guess I did. Brin shifted,and instead of moaning out with pleasure, she went dead quiet, mouth agape. The moment Laura's full lips met her cunt, her long legs tensed, toes splaying, and her blue eyes rolled so far back into her head that she looked like a woman possessed.
Laura slurped and moaned, breathing hot and heavy, as if she were enjoying a perfect, juicy peach. The kind that once you started eating, you couldn't help but end up with a wet dripping chin. Brin's body tensed, her body arching, nipples to the heavens, fingers like claws digging into the comforter, breathless in a stunning charge of ecstasy. All the while, the thickness that was Laura's ass with its sleek black thong was on full display for me. On her knees,with one hand roaming over a taut and sculpted stomach, the other beneath the thin ebony slip, two fingers inside herself, Laura really was the star of the show. Performing from all angles, pleasing everyone present. How I wanted to help her slide off the thin strip of silky fabric that hid so much from me.
Abruptly, Brin let out a long, gasping moan as she breathed for the first time since lips and tongue found her clit. As if she was coming back to life, she grabbed hold of Laura's short black hair and pulled her face harder into her as her body shook, legs wrapping around and pressing into Laura's mouth. Seeking. Intense.
She looked down over her stomach at Laura, and I could tell that they were looking eye to eye as Brin shuddered and came. With an airy moan she set her teeth on edge and a look of utter fierceness filled her face, as if an animalistic spirit had taken over her, filled with a rage-like passion as Laura's tongue wound around and her fat lips sucked greedily, finishing what she started.
"Yes... just like that," Brin growled, her big blue almond eyes intense.
Her visage made it clear she was eager and ready to let open the floodgates. Her thighs and stomach twitching, she gyrated against Laura as the long lapping waves moved through her body. I watched Laura's fingers moving hard on her own pussy, dark panties, growing darker and shimmering with wetness, intent on matching the rhythms of Brin's orgasm as it came. With long nails raking through her dark hair, she stuffed her face into Brin's writhing body and the both of them shook with it. But Brin did not let the orgasm take her for long, it was simply an appetizer for her. In a blur of beautiful nudity Brin spun her body, her small breasts heaving, she lunged as she shoved herself off the bed and took her domination over Laura, who fell back, face slick and shining wet, grinning fiercely as they fell back to the floor atop a soft woven rug.
Now, I could see the whole of Brin from the back, her long, lithe body sitting tall atop the other woman. Pale skin shimmered in the last embers of the daylight coming through the window shades. Straddling Laura, Brin was like an ethereal succubus atop the deliciously tan flesh. And I could see Laura from another magnificent angle. On her back, strong, toned legs spread, Brin worked to pull off her shirt and the black sports bra that had held much back. I thought, in that moment, of how lovely it would be to be a watermelon and to be crushed by those thick thighs until every drop of my juice ran out. Big, round tits rolled down and shifted gently as Brin released them from the impressive restriction of Laura's black sports bra. She had certainly fooled me, hiding such big, juicy breasts that now jiggled wonderfully with every movement they made.
