"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Jen."
"No problem, Carl. You know you can call anytime and I'll make room for you," Jennifer said, shaking the man's large hand.
If the man walking out of the young accountant's office only knew how much she really meant that, he might not have left. Jennifer rarely found herself attracted to fifty year old men, twenty years her senior. But Carl was different.
Jennifer stared out through the massive windows that overlooked the city. Row after row, floor after floor of office windows stared back at her. She found herself running a hand up the inside of one of her thighs as she thought of Carl's masculine figure. When her fingers hit the bottom of her skirt, she slumped into her desk chair.
With her eyes closed, she allowed the hand to continue its trek. The skirt was pushed higher. Jennifer spread her legs, stretched them out, and reached up with her hand. Only when she made contact with her panties did she linger.
A sound outside the door made her stop.
Jennifer was single by choice. But it was becoming harder and harder to stay that way. As she progressed through her twenties, her girl-next-door looks began to approach model status. She maintained her figure and splurged on having her natural blonde hair professionally styled.
Although generally liked within the office, many of her fellow accountants believed some of her clients—such as Carl—went to her for more than her aptitude with numbers. As a result, Jennifer was very selective with who she went out with; perhaps, to the point of unnecessary sexual frustration.
The day after Carl's visit, a plain white envelope with her name and address handwritten on it appeared in her inbox. Jennifer opened it with curiosity.
A simple note read: "Why did you stop, Jennifer? You looked so intense as your hand slid up your thigh. Please let me watch you finish next time."
She nearly gasped out loud as she realized the ramifications of the short note. Somewhere, in one of the hundreds of identical looking windows outside, somebody was watching her. Jennifer thought back, through all the months she had occupied that office. Had she ever...how far had she...?
She was comforted to recognize that she'd never gone all the way while in that office. But then a strange consciousness came over her. Jennifer was actually excited at the prospect of somebody watching.
'Stop it, Jen,' she scolded herself. 'That's obscene. Grow up.'
She gazed out the window, searching in vain for a face.
'Was it even a man? Did it matter?'
Once the initial shock of the note wore off, Jennifer allowed herself to consider responses to it. They ranged from ignoring it to...well, Jennifer wasn't prepared to go there, yet.
Still, her heart fluttered at the possibilities. She'd have to sleep on it.
Jennifer woke up with a plan in mind. She purposely wore a blouse to work and a skin tone bra that all but disappeared against her body. The morning seemed to drag endlessly as she waited for the noon hour—her self-designated 'showtime'.
She would try this one time, and wait for a response via mail. Jennifer had to admit that she wasn't exactly sure whether she wanted a response or not. Her conservative side fought mightily against the provocative side that wanted to incite her unseen admirer.
As noon approached, she couldn't concentrate on work any more. By the time her PC showed twelve o'clock, Jennifer was nearly shaking from anxiety. She walked to her office door and quietly locked it. Then she turned to the windows and peered out.
Jennifer didn't want to stand directly in front of the windows, fearful for some strange reason that somebody besides her single observer might see her. So she stood five feet back and, after a momentary pause, opened the top button of her blouse.
She waited a few seconds before opening the next button down. This time, instead of pulling her hands away, Jennifer slid the fingers of her right hand inside the shirt and over the top of her breast. She never exposed the nipple, but practically everything else was visible when she pulled the blouse aside and moved her hand lower.
Jennifer cupped the full, firm breast and held it up while looking down at it. That's when she felt the moisture around her pussy begin to accumulate on her panties. She frantically wanted to put her other hand inside her slacks and relieve the itch, but she needed to know more—more about her voyeur. And maybe more about herself.
She put on a five minute show, eventually displaying her entire bra. Then she slowly buttoned the blouse back up and unlocked the office door. The remainder of the day would be relatively uneventful, she hoped.
It was an agonizing wait for the next day's mail delivery. Sure enough, the envelope was there.
Jennifer ripped it open immediately.
"Very nice. I must see them. Don't wear a bra next time. Remove the blouse and give me a front and side view. If you feel the need, please rub your pussy. Relax, Jennifer. If you could only see what you do to me..."
'It HAD to be a man,' she told herself. 'And I'm turning him on. I'm making a guy hard just playing with myself. How very cool.'
Jennifer was hooked. Each day now brought her a new challenge and she was addicted to the game. In her mind, the only limits would be the ones she established. But what would those limits be?
Overnight brought new thoughts to mind. Was this guy alone when he watched her? Had he turned it into a social event? Was that better or worse?
Jennifer wore a blouse the next day as instructed and a fairly short skirt under that. She had to remember the conservative environment she worked in and didn't want to have to change just for the 'show', other than removing her bra...which she did successfully in the ladies room a few minutes before noon. Her nipples were already bulging by the time she locked her office door.
She took her spot and made her now-routine inspection of windows, knowing she'd never pick out the man. Jennifer took a deep breath. And then she began to unbutton the blouse.
As she passed the bottom of her cleavage, excitement she hadn't felt since her last successful date took hold. Jennifer hated to admit that it had been almost a year since she was naked with a guy. While this was hardly the same, she got the same thrill out of it for some unknown reason.
She knew her breasts were not fully exposed even when the last button was undone. It would take removing the blouse to achieve that. It's what he wanted.
Jennifer was methodical about it. It took her several seconds to get the blouse off her shoulders and down her arms. She let the shirt linger in her hands before completely taking it off. Only then did she appreciate the novelty of what she did. Jennifer stood topless, facing the world, with her blouse in one hand at her side.
She did not smile, or frown. Fifteen seconds later, she turned to her side and gave the silhouette view he requested. Jennifer stood as straight and firm as she could, not knowing if he was only watching or taking photos...or what. She had an image in her mind of an erect cock in a man's hand.
It was while in this pose that she let the blouse fall to the floor. Then she raised her hand to the bottom of her skirt. She slid it up until reaching the top of her thigh. The last time, she stopped at her panties. This time she moved her fingers over them.
Turning slightly back towards the windows, Jennifer rubbed her clit through the silky material. She suspected that anybody looking close enough, or with the right binoculars or telescope, could see a trace of her panties. She rubbed harder and the wetness increased between her legs.
A full two minutes of masturbation brought her seriously close to an orgasm. But Jennifer found the control to withdraw her hand, grab her blouse, and pull it on before unlocking her door. She almost ran to the bathroom with the purse containing her bra.
Monday brought a new note.
"Bravo, Jennifer. You were magnificent. And SO close. I must know what time is best for you. Wear red if early morning is better. Blue for noon. Black for quitting time. I will then send another note."
Jennifer was growing to dislike 'note days' as they did not include an exhibition. But she liked where it was going and she wondered what he had in store for her—why he needed to know what time was best for her.
She wore black on Tuesday.
Wednesday's inbox contained the most serious message to date.
"Quitting time it is. Wear a dress and panties. Remove the dress. Put your desk chair by the window, pull down the panties, and masturbate for me. DO NOT CUM, Jennifer. You are not ready yet."
Jennifer was totally under his spell. She refused to masturbate at home, not wanting to lessen his influence over her during her shows. Now she was going to have to go to the brink, and come back; all of this after he had driven her crazy with desire.
She reminded herself that she'd never agree to something like this with a man she could see face-to-face. Why was it different just because he was invisible? For all she knew, he was someone she wouldn't undress for in person in a million years.
But as she knew she would, she wore a simple dress over bikini panties on Thursday. No, she wasn't brave enough to go all day without a bra. But at 5:15 when the office was essentially cleared out, she was in the ladies room removing it. At 5:30, the office door was locked and her desk chair was in front of the window.
Jennifer stood beside it and reached back to unzip her dress.
She wished she was a little more experienced in stripping, right before the absurdity of the thought hit her.
'God, Jen. Do you think this is something you go to school for? Get a Masters in? Just take off the god-damned dress.'
She let the dress fall off her shoulders, but she held it in place above her chest. Jennifer's hands slid across her breasts, taking the garment with them. Finally, she was at her waist and letting the dress fall to her ankles. She kicked it aside.
Jennifer stared straight ahead as she moved to the chair and sat down. At first her knees were together. Then she spread them and slouched down a little. Her head rested on the top of the chair as it gently leaned back.
She felt sexier than at any time during the sessions. Even with the panties on, she felt exposed and vulnerable. To her surprise, Jennifer's hands didn't go straight to her pussy.
She ran her fingers over her nipples, feeling them stiffen in the process. She squeezed them one at a time, pulling on each one before moving to the other. Back and forth she went until they ached. Her pussy screamed for attention. Her tongue swiped across her dry lips.
Again, she pictured him and his hard cock. The head was swollen and his hand stroked it from bottom to top. Faster. Harder.
Now she had to touch herself. First, from outside the panties. Jennifer pressed the fabric against her pussy and sought out the split that led to her clit. When she found it, her ass instinctively rose from the chair to meet her hand. She rubbed her clit harder. Her head tilted back and her breasts reached out for the windows.
Jennifer didn't know what he expected her to do, other than NOT cum. She slowly pulled down her panties as he had said. At first she stopped at the knees. But then she pushed them lower so they were at her feet. She pulled one foot out and spread her legs again.
