When my wife Terri and I were in the fourth year of our marriage we lived in a small apartment on the eighth floor of an older building in Brooklyn. We were pleased with ourselves. I had a good job with a management consulting company and Terri had just passed her Ph.D. exams and was taking a few weeks to rest before she began research for her public policy dissertation.
A much newer apartment building, with floor to ceiling glass, faced us across a narrow and unusually quiet street. We could see directly and clearly into several of the apartments on our level and on the floors just above and below. We assumed some of the people in that building opposite could see into our apartment but not nearly so well because the windows were much smaller in our older building. At least we did have double windows in our living room and in our bedroom. We noticed people in some of the apartments opposite our building often did not close their curtains, even given the floor to ceiling glass. When their lights were on, especially at night, we could readily discern what the occupants were doing: talking, eating, reading, cleaning, working at a computer, watching a screen, napping, all of the things people do who live in an urban apartment building.
A few times late at night we observed people engaged in something sexual in apartments across from ours. That always drew our attention and, if the curtains remained open, often held it for a good while. Once, for example, we saw a statuesque young blond woman standing in front of a very large black man who was seated on a couch. While he watched she slowly removed her clothes, piece by piece. She seemed to be dancing to music, following a beat we could not hear. His hand was in his lap but we couldn't tell if he was touching himself as she teased him. When she was naked she reached down to take his hand to lead him into the bedroom. We could see that he was very big and had grown fully hard watching her. She turned off the light as they entered the bedroom. Terri had become very aroused while watching them and had begun to touch herself. She expressed her frustration to me at not being able to see the very white blond woman have sex with her very black partner. Nevertheless, what we were able to see, and what we imagined was happening in the bedroom, fueled our desire and inspired our own satisfying sexual coupling.
Another time we watched a couple's sexual performance on their couch. The woman was leaning back, her eyes seemingly closed, her legs spread for her partner. The man knelt, his mouth between her legs, his head moving in a rhythm. They were like that for a long time before the woman noticed the curtains were wide open. She got up and pulled them closed. In both of these instances and a few others we turned off our lights as we watched and had very pleasurable sex of our own.
One night very late while my wife was on top, riding my cock, I reached over to the table next to our bed and switched on the small lamp there. Terri stopped moving. "What are you doing, Michael?" She crossed her arms over her breasts.
"I like to look up at you Terri when you're riding me like this. I like to see the pleasure on your face and to watch you in motion as you tease me and please me, up and down, slow then fast, setting the pace, being in control. Don't you like that?"
"You know I like being on top, Michael, but the curtains are wide open. Anyone could see us."
"Terri, it's very late. It is highly unlikely anyone is watching us. Relax and enjoy this for a minute. Isn't it even a little exciting to imagine a man is enjoying watching you? Wouldn't it turn you on if you knew some man was desperately straining his eyes to see you right now. Wouldn't you want to arouse him further by the way you move and then to reward him by doing something even more erotic for him? Pretend some man is in one of those apartments right now, seeing you, wanting you. Maybe he is touching himself, stroking his cock, wishing you were there to climb on him like you are on me, wishing you were fucking him like you are fucking me. Show him how much you like to fuck like this. Tease him. Slide up and down slowly on my dick and look out the window and smile as though you would welcome him to your bed."
She nodded and smiled, beginning to play this pretend game with me. She rode me smoothly and slowly for several minutes more. Her breathing quickened as she embraced the idea of someone watching, of showing herself, of doing something unexpected and daring. She was moaning and panting when I switched off the light, turned her over and came into her that way, me on top this time, hard and fast. When we talked about it later we agreed we we had liked the sensations of risk and libertinism we had felt.
We begin to repeat this exhibition, or some close variation, from time to time, always on Friday or Saturday night, always very late. A few times before we turned on our light we observed someone in another apartment doing something sexual, several times a couple kissing passionately and moving their hands on one another. We wanted to see a couple going much further than that. Once we watched a man masturbating on his bed. Terri could not take his eyes off him. She seemed to be growing more and more aroused by the idea of watching and by fantasies of being watched.
Without telling Terri I put stronger bulbs in the lamps next to our bed and next to the couch in our living room. One night we positioned ourselves on the couch so that anyone looking would see us kissing, naked, while I stroked her pussy and then of her playing with and then sucking my hard dick. We tried other positions. Me coming in her from behind. Eating each other. Masturbating together, facing out to the other building. We slowed so that anyone watching would see the desire and pleasure on our faces. We tried to increase the intensity and length and the variety of our performances. We had become addicted to sharing our passion--and our passion for doing this kept increasing.
Terri begin to enjoy more and more our "late night lights" episodes. She began to crave our creating a sex show for an invisible audience. She knew she was the star. I wondered: had she become addicted to exhibitionism or had she always been so inclined but had not been given such an easy opportunity. I had never expected this from her. Had I missed something along the way?
Once in the winter I took Terri from behind fucking her very slowly while she was standing naked in front of a window in our bedroom; her breasts were pressed against the glass. I could feel her excitement. I said, "Terri, are you thinking about how you must look to a couple watching us? He must be lusting for you. She must wish she was in your place, being so beautiful and enjoying a hard prick in your pussy. Tease them Terri, reach down and play with your pussy while I am inside you."
I went very slowly so she could enjoy her finger on her clit. Then I took my finger in my mouth and made it very slick and put it against her ass and pressed the tip of it in. She gasped.
"Oh, that is so nasty Michael."
"Being nasty is just what you need sometimes isn't it,Terri?"
"Yes. Sometimes."
"Like now, Terri, while you are in such a provocative position and already so hot? Do you like me playing with your ass while my cock is in you?"
"I like it. It is very nasty. So nasty while I am displayed like this."
"A man watching would see how much you like playing with your self while you are fucking. How do you think that would make him feel?"
"He would probably like it, and also knowing that you had your finger in my ass. And that you were using my ass and I was wanting you to do it."
"I think so too, Terri. You do like it don't you?"
"Yes."
"You like feeling nasty and talking about it? Tell me what else you like. "
"Sometimes I like feeling your cock hard in my pussy, not moving. I like squeezing my cunt around your dick, wanting you to feel it."
"And what else do you like?"
"I like playing with myself."
"With what, Terri?"
"With my pussy. Like I'm doing now."
"And? Anything else you like?
"Your finger."
" Doing what?"
"Finger fucking me like this. In my ass."
"Would you say that if someone watching could hear you? What if he was right here next to you? Would you tell him you like to be finger fucked in your ass?"
"I like to think I would. If I was super hot like this. Maybe."
"What if I stopped and he was here. Would you let him take my place? Fingering you. Fucking you too?"
"Ohhhh! Michael! Ohhhh! I don't want you to ask me that. I don't know. Ohhhh, that is so hot, for you to ask me that. I don't know what to say!"
I thought to myself that she must be liking the picture I had presented to her for the first time, of another man involved, someone not her husband, someone not me. Maybe her mind was toggling between fear and delight as she imagined this. Maybe her senses were charged by this dialog and by imagining a scene unlike anything we had shared before. Someone else with her. Perhaps she was feeling a new kind of freedom too, free to examine her feelings about what had seemed forbidden.
'"It is exciting for you, isn't it Terri, for me to ask you those questions and for you to consider them?"
"I don't now how to describe it. What you have said is enough for now. Perhaps too much. I want to go to bed now."
When we were in bed I said, "It surprises me how much you have come to relish me turning the light on while we have sex. To take the risk of being watched. Does it surprise you that you want that, Terri?"
"You surprised me the night you began this, when you first turned the light on. I must have been secretly ready for it. Now I think it is sexy to be surprised and to do surprising things. I like it. I want to be surprised sexually. I'm glad you started this."