I Saw the Light

The year is 2002, the city is Los Angeles. Pat and I have rooms at a hotel next to the Van Nuys airport in the Valley. Our company is headquartered in Ft. Lauderdale, and we are out west working on a project at a district location.

It is late spring and we enjoy an evening meal together near downtown L.A. When we return to the hotel it is dark outside. Pat’s room is on another floor and on the other side of the hallway. Pat has a wonderful view of the parking lot. I have a view of the courtyard and the rooms on the other side of the courtyard, directly facing mine.

I return to my room and go to close the curtains. Looking out the window, the couple in the room directly across from mine has their lights on and curtains wide open. The woman comes out of the bathroom. From the look of her wet hair it seems she just took a shower. She is about mid twenties to thirty with dark hair and wearing a towel around her waist. The man is dressed and looks about the same age, or a few years older. They are an attractive couple, at least from a distance of 50 or 60 feet.

After closing my curtains, I move to the left side of my window. From there I gently push aside the curtain just enough to watch the couple for a moment. Not much is happening; they are sitting on the bed directly facing me and talking. I turn on the TV and watch it for a while and then my curiosity gets the best of me. I return to my window and check to see how the couple is getting along. The woman has removed her towel completely. She is naked, and more attractive than before.

I watch the couple, still with their lights on bright. The woman sits and then walks around nude. They are always visible, in the center of their wide window, usually facing out. Having been to some nude beaches, I know the difference between nudity and exhibitionism. This is an exhibition for us on this side of the courtyard. At this point, I ignore the TV; I have a far better show to watch. I am getting aroused, knowing this is sexual.

The man removes his clothes and now both are nude, and they continue to talk. Anticipating what will happen next, the good feelings between my legs cannot be ignored. This is the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed in person. Could it be possible they will have sex, right in front of the window, with the curtains open and the lights on? I begin touching myself. This show, and all it promises, turns me on.

After a few minutes they start to kiss and then quickly progress to very sexual touches. I take a quick intermission to remove my clothes and get the massage oil I always pack. When I return, the plot thickens; she is going down on him. With my oil and hand in place, my own genitals are enjoying the show as much as I am. I peek from my closed curtains so they will not see me. I am afraid if they do, they may end the show before it is finished. I don’t care if I’m an audience or a voyeur. Do the actors know for certain somebody is watching? I wonder if I am the only person watching. And masturbating.

They continue on as my hand continues it pleasurable journey. Now they are pleasing each other orally. As I am totally riveted to their show I need to pace myself. I do not want my finale before theirs. This is a performance I will fantasize about while playing with myself for years to come.

I do not wonder what they will do next, because they do it. Yes, IT. The climax I have been hoping to see since the show began an hour ago is now playing before my eyes. This is wonderful! Not only do I get to watch two attractive people have sex, I also get to play with myself in total privacy. I am on my sexually edge. But I play with myself cautiously. I am saving my climax for after their show ends. Then I will relive the entire performance, and enjoy it for a second time.

Never have I been this captive by my own sexual demands. I am a slave to my genitals. I want to continue watching this couple have sex forever, and I want my own orgasm. My hands remain glued to my demanding master. Transfixed by their sexual performance, I am completely unaware of my surroundings. The only thing that matters is between my legs.

The couple completes their final act. Now it’s my turn. Returning to my bed, I lay back and feel my way through the entire sex play. Both hands are between my legs. I can endure only one mental rerun. I time my explosion to the scene of their grand finale. Oh god, OH GOD!

When I meet Pat for breakfast the next morning in the hotel café, I eventually bring up the show from last night. After a very brief and cryptic review, I ask Pat what one should do when that happens. Without missing a beat, Pat says, “Call me!”