Jolene's Peepshow

Jolene walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, completely naked, stretching her arms out into the air. The lights were off, but the moon shone enough light through the bay window for her to see clearly. It was past eleven, most of the neighbors had gone to bed. No one would notice her.

As she settled into the couch, she looked at the building across the street, trying to picture the face of the man who had made such a strong impression on her the day before. Jolene had been single for a while, and had not had sex for even longer. After her latest break up, she simply stopped looking at other people, didn't think of others as potential partners or even sexual beings. It was the first time in a long time since anyone had made her heart flutter and her pussy gush.

She had only seen him with his back turned, but somehow knew he was gorgeous. He simply had to be the most handsome man she had ever seen for a back to look so appealing. It was wide and muscular, just like the rest of him, she assumed. He had appeared in the window frame for only a few seconds, as he was picking something up off the floor; and then he had left. He must not have been a resident, or else she would have noticed him before. Maybe he was visiting someone, and the naked state of his torso indicated a most intimate kind of visit. Or maybe he had just moved in, she liked that option better. Even though she had no idea of knowing if or when she would ever get to see more of him, the picture of his back had imprinted itself into her brain. She had dreamt of him at night and thought of him all day.

When she got ready for work in the morning, she chose her outfit with great care: a black lace bra and matching thong, a white silk blouse tucked into a grey pencil skirt, and black heels. The clothes hugged her figure nicely, and she was already close to a dress-code violation with the color contrast of her underwear making it visible through the blouse. But she still left the top two buttons undone, for good measure. She felt fucking hot.

This was highly unusual for Jolene, who most days prioritized comfort over appearance, and didn't care to draw the attention of just anyone to her curves. But it was for him, not anyone else, not even herself. Although it would never happen, she wanted to look her best in case she'd somehow run into him. She really liked the idea of him seeing her like that and feeling the urge to approach her. To go to her. To take her.

All day long, she imagined how they would eventually meet, alternating between scenarios of varying degrees of plausibility. Her work could wait. No one made a comment about her seeming distracted, even though she clearly paid no attention during her morning meeting or during lunch. People had kept talking around her without interrupting her thoughts, which she was most grateful for. She did catch her boss looking down her cleavage a couple of times, and found that she didn't even mind. In fact, she kind of liked the way she put him in a fluster.

Back home, she looked for the man in the window several times during the evening, but he never came. She ate dinner while watching a movie, and then took a long bath. And now, even though she was tired and should have already gone to bed, even though she knew he wasn't there, she still wanted to look at that window. So there she was, lying on the couch, trying to create a full picture of the man she was longing for.

He had brown wavy hair and he was tall, that she knew. And he had olive skin, so she pictured a mediterranean face, with thick eyebrows, a strong nose and full lips. He obviously exercised. Maybe weightlifting, boxing or rock climbing. Maybe his job demanded he kept his body in great physical shape, like a firefighter or a bodyguard. His voice had to be deep and velvety, the kind that would make her melt on the spot. Everything in him was big: his arms, his thighs, his ass, his personality.

She began to caress the skin between her breasts, imagining his arms enveloping her entirely, making her feel the warmth of his body against hers. Her cheeks became flushed at the thought of him easily picking her up by the buttocks as if she weighed nothing, and taking her to the bedroom. Was that what he had done across the street? Had he taken a woman in her bed, ravished her and then left? Maybe next time she would give him a signal to come to her after. She'd give him the incentive to stay with her. She'd worship his cock the right way and he'd fuck her again and again and again.

Her hand dragged across her stomach and reached the soft curls of her pubic hair. Just as she was about to go even lower, she saw a shadow pass through her fantasy man's window. She hesitated, maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. But it happened again, and this time the shadow lingered for a few seconds before disappearing for good.

Was someone watching her? Could it be him? She brought her hand to her mouth and sucked on her index and middle finger slowly, with intent. She closed her eyes and pictured him watching through the curtains, not being able to look away from her sprawled out, naked form; yet making sure not to get noticed. But she wanted him to notice her, she wanted him to see her, to witness her desire and to reciprocate it. She brought her wet fingers to her lower lips and clit, and started gently rubbing. With her other hand, she took hold of her breast and played with the nipple. The thought of him seeing her in such a vulnerable position turned her on like never before. Her cunt was on fire. She inserted two fingers inside and found that they slipped in very easily. It had been so long since she'd been touched, by her own hand or someone else's, but her new obsession had pushed her to try and find some release.

Jolene wasn't in control of her own actions anymore, she simply aimed to become the object of his desire and please him. He would be kind to her, validate her with words of affirmation, treat her like the good girl she was. He'd pet her head and whisper sweet words in her ear, caress her body all over and make her feel like no one else ever had. Pearls of sweat appeared on the back of her neck; her whole body felt warm. She started rubbing faster, feeling the stir inside steadily growing stronger. The pleasure she was feeling was so intense she only wished to be able to share it with him, to show him the effect he had on her, to thank him for awakening this new side of her.

And she knew just how to thank him. Her ex had complimented her cocksucking skills many times, she knew how to give great blowjobs. First, with her thick, luscious lips, she'd plant a kiss on the tip, wrap her tongue around it and very slowly start to suck. With one hand on his balls and the other on his shaft, she'd make sure he was stimulated all over before pumping more of him into her mouth. Her lips, sealed like a vacuum, would go up and down in long strokes. She'd let him know how good he tasted with deep moans and then, just as she would start to go a little faster, she'd look right into his eyes and grab his dick with both hands to increase the pressure. After a while, she'd let go of him only to take even more of his length into her mouth, aiming for skin contact between the tip of her nose and his pelvis. Her hands could caress the back of his legs and land on his firm butt cheeks. That was the perfect moment for him to grab onto her hair and fuck her mouth at his own pace. If it became too intense for her, she'd just squeeze his cheeks and he'd give her time to breathe before going back at it. She'd do it for as long as he wanted, as many times as he wanted, if it meant she could kneel before him and be his servant. If he relented control over to her, then she'd take her time, drag it on and tease him a little, make him beg to finish on her tongue. She wanted him to try and hold still while she maintained a deliberately slow rhythm, making his orgasm build at an excruciatingly slow pace.

He might eventually crack and rip her away from his glistening cock, throw her down on the ground and fuck her pussy raw. She'd take it all in a perfect fit, as if her cunt had been made for his perfect cock. The thick shaft would stretch her out, fill her to the brim with his desire and make her whole body submit to him. He'd give her the good, hard fuck she'd been craving for so long, forcing her to adapt to his rhythm and only cumming when he allowed her to. With the image of his cock erupting deep inside of her, Jolene came. The orgasm hit her in a series of waves, strong, powerful and relentless. It left her in total bliss.

After a few minutes of recovery, she felt both exhausted and still somehow incredibly horny. She wanted to go again, so she fought against the drowsiness and brought her fingers back to her throbbing clit. She imagined that after servicing him he'd be generous enough to return the favor. He would skillfully eat her pussy and then he'd penetrate her with his big dick and fuck her senseless until she begged for a breather; and then he'd go again.

She lost count of the number of orgasms she gave herself before finally falling asleep.

Jolene woke up the next morning in the same position she fell asleep in: lying in a pool of her own fluids, a hand on her boob and the other between her legs. She rose up, looked out and her heart immediately dropped. Taped to the window across the street, a sign said in bold black letters: "Do it again."