Ninth Story Watcher

I can see you from the front window of my 9th floor apartment. Sitting at my window, if I look across and down just a bit I can see into the window of your large, comfortable bedroom. Most nights, I sit in front of my window, the lights off, sometimes with the television droning in the background, watching. Most nights, I sit in front of my window and watch you.

I watch as you slowly undress yourself before going to bed, standing in front of your full length mirror, staring at your own body as the clothes fall away. You gently caress your firm stomach and large breasts, admiring your own perfect body as though you were your own lover. I watch you as you come out of the shower, your firm body glistening with drops of water falling from your hair. I watch you on those lonely nights when you pleasure yourself, writhing on top of your bed sheets with a toy or just your fingers pushed inside of you. And I watch on those nights when you bring your boys home, every time a different one and I watch as you let them treat you like a whore.

You dress up for them in burlesque costumes, stiletto heals and school girl outfits. You seduce them with leather halters, fishnet stockings, and see-through night gowns, as though they needed any persuasion. I know each of the costumes you own, and I know which costume you will choose for each guy.

I watch you from my window, watch you dance and play with each boy, teasing him, stripping for him. I watch as each of them grow anxious to have you, dripping with desire to possess what you are flaunting in front of them. You hold them back, right on the edge of breaking, before mercifully easing their suffering. I watch as you gently take each boy's cock into your mouth, slowly sucking and licking up and down his shaft.

From there, you climb onto the bed with him, lowering your warm, smooth pussy over his face, and returning your mouth to his stiff cock. He buries his mouth between your legs, licking your clit and pushing his tongue inside your pussy. His hands spread your ass, curious fingers finding a new place to play. You grind your pussy into his face, pushing your hot juices into his mouth which he laps up gratefully.

Your mouth slides quickly up and down his cock, taking him deeper into your throat each time. He bucks his hips up into you, pushing his cock further into your mouth, both of you approaching the peaks of your orgasms. But you know when to hold back, when to pull away, just before both of you explode in ecstasy. Slowly you roll your body away from him, pausing for a moment before giving the boy what he has been begging for all night. I watch you as you look coyly into his eyes while hiking up your pleated mini-skirt and lowering yourself onto his hard cock. You slide down onto him slowly, his cock still slippery with you saliva, teasing him with the warmth of your tight pussy. As soon as he is completely inside you, you arch back with a deep moan, and grabbing his legs you begin to slowly slide up and down his cock. As you move up and down on him, he caresses your silky smooth thighs and stomach and teases your clit with his fingers.

As your gyrations grow steadily faster, grinding down hard on his cock, you gasp and scream in delight as a powerful orgasm washes over you. Your body shakes and trembles as wave after wave of pleasure shoots through your body, your breasts heaving up and down with the last shuddering thrusts of your hips. Pulling your hair from your eyes, you say something to your boy with a coy smile on your face. He nods, and you climb off of him and onto the floor, where you take a position on your knees. The boy gets up and stands over you, his cock pointing at your open mouth.

He begins to stroke himself while you play with his balls, bringing himself to his own concussive orgasm. His head tilts back and his mouth opens in a groan. He looks back down at you just as he explodes, shooting his cum onto your face and into your open mouth. Some drops fall onto your perfect breasts which you wipe up with one finger and deliver into your mouth. As he stands in front of you, you grab his cock and lick and suck the remaining drops of cum from him greedily, unable to get enough. You push the few drops on your chin and cheeks onto your tongue, not wanting to waste a single drop.

I watch what you do for each of your boys. I watch your performances, what you do to please these boys you bring home. I know all of your variations and all of your tricks. I imagine what you say to them, what you tell them you want them to do to you. You tell them of course you like to be bound and gagged, or fucked in the ass from behind. You tell them you want them to cum on your face or onto your breasts, or to shoot their cum into your mouth so they can watch you swallow it.

I am watching as you slip into your various costumes, anxious to impress the latest boy sitting in your living room tentatively sipping a glass of red wine. You shuffle through the clothes in your closet, biting your lower lip in tense deliberation as you try to decide what naughty outfit will impress this boy the most. But we both know that you have decided already, that you know exactly what will make this boy beg for more. There are nights you play naughty nurse to a sick patient, or a demure school girl waiting to have her innocence taken from her.

I watch as some nights you bind yourself up in a leather corset, knee-high boots and leather gloves. With a riding crop in your hand, you command your new boy to come into the room on his knees, because he has been a very bad boy. On these nights you command his every move, forcing him to beg you to touch him, to grovel under the heel of your high leather boots. You make him get to his knees, his hands bound behind him with a leather strap, and demand that he taste you. Lacing you fingers into his hair, you push his mouth against your waiting pussy, barking at your boy to lick you. As he furiously whips his tongue against your clit and between your lips, you grind into his face, your mouth twisted in a fierce gasp of pleasure.

After you have finished with his tongue, you tie him face up on the bed with a blindfold over his eyes. You stomp around the bed in your high-heel boots, sometimes caressing sometimes smacking him with you riding crop. He lurches and gasps each time you hit him, the tiny pains obviously giving him great pleasure. Once you are satisfied with the number of red welts on his naked body, you climb on top of him, straddling his legs. You force him to hold the riding crop between his teeth, telling him he is not to let it go or the punishment will be severe.

You take his cock into your hands, and begin to rub it across your moist pussy lips. You ask him "Do you want this? Do you want to feel my hot, tight pussy?" and he nods his head furiously, silently begging you to let his cock inside of you. "Well you don't get it... not until you beg me for it." You tell him. You grind against his cock, rubbing the tip against your clit, teasing him, egging him on as he mumbles his pleas to you through his clenched teeth. His arms tug against his leather restraints in futility as he pulls and bucks underneath you, trying his hardest to get inside of you. Finally, after minutes of teasing and torturing his cock with your smooth, wet pussy, you slowly, very slowly begin to push yourself down on top of him. You always take your time, making his relief come slow as you continue to toy with him.

And soon he is completely inside of you, your tight pink lips sliding up and down his shaft. Your dark red nails digging into his stomach and thighs, your ride him ferociously until you come, your back arching one last time as a powerful orgasm washes over you. With him still inside of you, he has yet to come himself, and tickling his chest with your nails, you quietly climb off of him. He shakes his head, confused, he did not get what he came here for. You look at him with pity in your eyes, as you wrap your fingers around his still-hard cock and stroking him quickly, finish him off as he shoots his hot cum onto his own stomach. You take the riding crop from his mouth and untie him, ushering him quickly into the shower to clean himself off.

And I watch as some nights you enjoy being controlled, letting your boy take you fiercely from behind while he holds your throat, bound helplessly by leather cuffs to your bedposts. You love being helpless, letting the boy control and humiliate you. With your breasts bouncing under your leather corset and your thong pulled away, he ravishes you, thrusting into you has hard as he can; taking pleasure in the short-lived power he has over you.

And you love to give him that power. You grind and buck against his cock as he slams into you, your back arching and your mouth pleading "more, fuck me more". You look back at him, sweating, your hair stuck to your face, you watch his toned body pound against your ass as you dig your stiletto heels into his thighs. He grins fiendishly at you as he hooks his finger into your mouth, pulling your head backward, forcing you to look away. He spanks your firm ass with his other hand, causing you to gasp and leaving a red handprint behind. He spanks you again, on your other cheek, making you gasp again in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

When he begins to climax, he pulls out his cock and cums onto your ass, letting it drip back down between your legs. To him, this is the last show of his domination and your humiliation. You giggle and moan with pleasure as he unbinds you from your bedposts and you get up and move towards the shower. As you pass him, you squeeze his cock playfully and kiss him gently on the lips, then disappear into the bathroom. While you are bathing, your boys always gather up their things and quietly show themselves out.

You do this with all of the boys you bring home; whether they tie you up or you them, whether you play the innocent schoolgirl or the naughty nurse, I watch as you give them their wildest fantasy, and then they vanish as quickly as they appeared. I suppose you must be used to it by now; but each night as you emerge from the shower, it looks like you had hoped this time he might stay, that this time he would wait until breakfast to leave you. And you look so lonely, so sad when they are gone, drying yourself in front of your mirror, caressing the body that boy had just ravaged.

But the show goes on just as it always has, each act the same as the last; your young, fresh body always willing, always giving each new boy a chance to become a man. And I will always be watching you; I will always be with you, nine stories above the ground, watching you put on your show.