One Lazy Afternoon

She massaged his cock, holding his hand around the shaft within hers. I watched her lips moving, imagining her saying "I love making you masturbate for me. I know how much you love looking at me, how often you jerk off, wishing that you could have me."

She giggled, her firm young tits giggling inside the pink halter style bikini top which barely covered the erect nipples.

"But you know you can't." I saw her tease, pretending to pull away, but really getting what she wanted -- him pulling her across his knees.

He then guided his free hand down her body, across her flat athletic belly, and out to her knee.

They stayed like that for what seemed a long interlude, though no doubt it was seconds rather than minutes. Her hand working his, her breath shortening until her panting heaved her tits so vigourously that I was sure the bikini top would pop loose. His jaw was slack, his tongue lolling out, smacking his moist lips as he let her do the work.

As she concentrated on the task, literally at her hand, he began moving his paw, first making her forcing her own knees apart. She seemed not to notice, though I knew she must have felt the pressure, and registered the movement of her own limbs. Now she was breathing as heavily as he was, but still not acknowledging his escalation of their game.

He spoke, just a few words, lips barely moving. It could have been anything at all from "nice bikini" or "fuck me", though neither fit the situation -- the first would have broken the spell, the second would have renewed her resistance. Whatever he said distracted her enough that as he spoke, he was able to start rubbing inside her thighs, travelling upwards until her palm pressed against her own sex, gently massaging her wet pussy through her bikini bottoms.

"No, don't." She struggled under his control, and though I could not hear the words, her exasperation was clear.

"You know it's wrong," she seemed to be saying. "Teasing is okay, but not this..."

I watched as he snarled out his response, which I guessed was something like "You started it."

Then he pushed her bikini bottom aside, exposing her shaved pussy.

He whistled in admiration, which provoked a grin and a giggle from her.

I watched as she rose up from his knee and turned, her excited nipples now thrusting up to where I spied on them. I wondered whether she knew, or suspected, that I was watching.

He pouted briefly as her hand left his erection unattended, but I saw his grin peering out over his shoulder as she sat on his lap, back to him, her ass, adorned only by the insignificant strip of thong, rubbing his cock. Her body melted into his. She was rolling her pelvis, grinding against him.

He reached up and around as she leaned her head onto his shoulder. His paws mashed her tits, powerful fingers closing around her nipples, first squeezing them from the sides, and then tugging them away from her flesh. She arched her back, writhing harder in his lap, lost in the pleasure of pain, the last shreds of resistance crumbling before my eyes.

I imagined how powerful he must feel as she responded to his touch, how hard his cock must be, the friction of the fabric tickling the sensitive crown as his engorgement threatened to break free from the confines.

"Fuck him, just go ahead, get it out of the way, go ahead fuck him hard."

It took a second for me to realize that this was my voice. The triple pane glass separating us meant no one else heard my command. It startled me to realize I spoke out loud, as much as the words that I spoke.

"Reach down, shove his trunks down, pull out that gorgeous fat hunk of meat, rise up, and sit on it, Ride'em cowgirl."

No one heard me, but my excitement forced my hand, almost as if it had a will of its own, to caress my growing turgidity. Suddenly, I noticed my own nakedness like a newborn.

"Interesting what people get up too while I'm in the shower," I mused. "But they gotta know I would get out and look for them."

This rationalization nicely justified my voyeurism.

"Focus," I told myself, watching as he nudged her none to gently, left hand dropping to her ass, right hand grasping her tit brusquely, levering it like a handle.

She twisted around, never quite lifting off his lap, sliding as her left leg swung gracefully about.

"Those years of ballet lessons paying off," I chuckled to myself. The fingernail on my baby finger rubbed my scrotum, sending a shiver that started in my balls up through my spine, shaking my whole body.

Down by the pool, he had reached around her ass, still squeezing the left cheek, while his other hand travelled, separating her buttocks, stretching her open. She tossed her head back, crying out her excitement as the tips of his fingers slid between her legs, exploring the welcoming folds of her labia. I could almost smell her wetness.

She began bouncing on his hand, her tits teasing his face, his cock still straining his shorts. When she came down, his fingers slid up inside her. By the second stroke, he had figured out that he should hold them rigid, but with the knuckles flexed just slightly to make this fleshy dildo fatter.

"Tease her clit," I coached, even though he could not hear.

As if on command, he curled his baby finger, so that the next down stroke allowed him to reach her pearl, and he deftly flicked it, making her rotate her hips with joy.

"Now her nipples."

I knew the electricity would flow from one nub to the other, flooding her with ecstasy.

As he caught her breast in his mouth the next time it slid past his lips, she cried out so loudly that the sound travelled right through the window to me. He slurped the nub between his teeth, the force dragging her breast away from her body so hard that it shifted shape, easily visible from my vantage point, the rubbery flesh undulating as he breathed, and heaving with her gasps for air. Her hips rocked back and forth on his thighs, as if begging him to thrust his hardness between those lips.

"Your teeth...use your teeth," I commanded from behind my window.

Again, I was rewarded by exactly what I had wished for. He opened his mouth, licked all around her areole, and flicked her tip with the end of his oral organ before closing his teeth around the middle of the distended thumb like tissue, and ever so gently tugging it away from the rest of her body, his lips closing again, resuming his suckling. Her back arched in response, her head tossing wildly, first backwards and then side to side, driving their abdomens together.

'If he's that good with a nipple, imagine how he must play with a clit,' I thought, knowing she must be thinking the same, knowing that the limit of just teasing would never be maintained now.

With their lower bodies crashing against each other, she had to remove her hand from his erection, no doubt reluctantly. She grasped his beefy shoulders and began bucking atop him, just like a rodeo rider. Her breathing was becoming visibly ragged, panting giving way to grasping for air as they writhed together.

Her body was screening me from seeing the moment when he switched nipples, but her reaction -- a sudden sharp jolt running down her spine, a second's pause in her movements -- told me that he had bitten her hard, and that she had loved the pain. Her instinctive reaction was to try to pull away, but his teeth stayed clamped on her stretchy teat, until she reached the point where even that elasticity was strained, and her pain threshold exceeded, forcing her to slam her chest forward against his face to relieve the pressure, their hips colliding with harmonious violence.

This forced him to release her tit from his lips, as her head slid naturally to his shoulder, their bodies heaving. I sensed that she had just experienced either a preorgasmic tilt, or the first small precursor of a lengthy and growing chain of bliss.

He spoke softly, lips an inch from her ear, fingers gently running through her hair, his other hand caressing her spine, gradually trending down and out to rub her glutes, starting her hips in motion all over again.

"I need to fuck you," or some such words, he must have muttered, "we're way past teasing now, there's no going back, and I am ready to burst."

She sealed their taboo pact with a gentle kiss, briefly pressing her lips to him, which somehow was much more intimate than a lavish tongue twister ever could have been. Her lips barely moved as she offered her promise, laughing and shaking her head sideways as she spoke.

Which meant she hadn't said, "Fuck me hard now, stud," or anything similar.

Maybe "I'm having too much fun teasing you."

She punctuated her comment by teasing his nipple, pinching it in her long red nails, squeezing and then twisting. His hips bucked up underneath him in startled response, his back arching like hers had earlier. Though I could not see his cock, I easily imagined that it was rock solid, and the surge of excitement likely generated a spurt of precum out the tip.

"Poor baby," she seemed to say as she giggled, bending her head down, planting a couple of random kisses along and across his chest before tenderly licking the aggrieved nubbin, kissing it 'all better', but drawing it into her mouth and holding it longer than I thought necessary for mercy.

Their hands were moving purposefully. He caressed her shoulders, stroked her back, all as a prelude to wrapping his palms around each heavy tit from behind, hefting their weight, and then kneading them firmly. She ran just the tips of her fingers through his chest hair, and then lingered in the healthy nest of hair on his belly, twisting strands around her fingers, and then releasing them, working down his body as she played.

He responded by moving his hand swiftly down her body, firmly honouring the flatness of her abs, but reaching her mound as she still giggled.

"Touch me," their lips moved in unison forming words that could only be begging, daring each other to continue.

It was almost as if, despite the distance and the window, that I could feel how hot wet she was.

She stopped her teasing and grasped his wrist, dragging his fingers to his nose, offering him her sweet honey-like scent. She then guided his hand to her mouth, tasting her own moistness off his fingertips, kissing each one intimately before licking it clean.

While he was distracted, she remained composed enough to finally take his erect manhood in her other fist, and give it a single firm squeeze.

As she finished licking, she giggled again and whispered something like "how was that?," or maybe "well, hello..."

Leaning back to give herself room, which also gave me a better view, she ran her finger up the underside of his shaft tickling the frenulum -- the tiny flap of skin beneath the cock head.

This time when she spoke, I guessed it was something like "Oh, you like that do you?"

After another giggle she spoke again, no doubt saying "Your turn to touch me again."

He replied by squeezing her breast and tweaking her nipples with the fingers of one hand, pulling and pinching as she wriggled on his lap. His other hand rubbed her belly, working slowly down to tease her womanhood. I could barely see what he was doing to please her, but it seemed as if he eventually spread her wet nether lips apart with two fingers and began thrusting into her wetness with his middle fingers. I imagined that his thumb must be curling up to bounce against her clit to make her squirm that much.

My own cock stirred in appreciation. I slowly caressed my shaft, my pace increasing as he began to pick up the pace of his fingerfucking. The whole time, she continued playing with his hardness, and I wished feverishly that it was my cock, but at the same time, I loved seeing her handiwork from afar.

"Yeah, that's it...just like that." I mumbled to myself, but their lips were moving too, and I bet that was pretty much their sentiments.

She brushed her nose against his, giggling, playing with him, turning her head off to the side, before returning to lock lips in a deep kiss. There was something shockingly sordid about this intimacy, even more taboo than the rubbing of genitalia. Yet, it turned me on incredibly to watch, perhaps more so because they were each tasting forbidden fruit. I was fully stroking my cock now, though cautioning myself to do so slowly, not wanting to explode, wanting to enjoy the view, see how far they would go, and, I realized, try to time my climax with them, without even knowing whether they had fully committed to providing mutual orgasms.

His fingers worked faster and deeper into her honey pot, urged on by her writhing hips. Though I could not hear, I could feel her moaning, as if it was my lips her breath was warming.

"I'm close to coming," she said, I imagined.

"Me too," he seemed to mutter.

She giggled, and spoke a few more soft words. Perhaps "so much for teasing is fine, but no touching."

His free hand caressed her body, and then he squeezed her breast, taking the side and bottom in his huge palm, lifting and massaging, his fingertips touching her nipple just slightly. He slowed, most of the hand buried within her, just flicking her clit with his thumb, holding her on the brink of orgasm. She imitated his gesture. Though my view was partially obscured, the slight movement at the elbow suggested that she was gripping him, perhaps flicking his frenulum with a thumbnail.

My balls tightened up against my groin, as I knew his must have already. Her orgasm would be a flood, fluids flowing and coating her inner thighs. Would he, I wondered, lay her on a lounge chair, or even just on the deck, and lick her clean? Or would they jump into the pool, allowing their essences to mix with the water, so that the next time I swam, any stray mouthful of water might contain tiny molecules of their joy?

She spoke again. "How intense is this?" I guessed her lips formed as she giggled.

If that was correct, then his response must have been something like, "If you want intense, I'll show you intense..."

Without further warning he quickly pulled his paw from her pussy, using it to grasp her ass firmly, and slid the other hand from her tit to her back. He stood, holding her effortlessly against his body. Her upturned face briefly registered shock. I wondered whether that was because of his change of pace, or whether if I could see her eyes, she might have noticed me. I stood motionless, not even wanting a fluttering curtain to attract her attention if my presence was still a secret.

He spun around with simply one leg turn. She grabbed on to his shoulders, almost falling back, saved by his manly grasp. With his back now facing me, her upturned face was hidden, so neither of them could be looking at me. This sense of security made me fist my hardness firmly. As he swung around, I noticed that his erection had nestled behind her ass, acting like a support for her butt. He held her in mid air, flexing his glutes, making his spear slide along the cleft between her buttocks. She seemed to be bumping against his groin, encouraging that rigid flesh to rub deeper inside the groove of her asscheeks. Her pubic bone crashing against his abs must also be creating quite pleasant friction all along her pussy lips. No doubt her hard clit was getting a good workout.

Any reluctance or rules had fallen away. No mores or taboo could intervene to stop consummation now.

"Are you going to fuck her standing up?" I asked, though I was glad he could not hear me. She might be turned on to know I was watching, if she had noticed, but he would have to be more discrete.

As if in response, he bent from the waist, gently allowing her to fall back onto the cushioned chair. I could see her face over his shoulder, her eyes dancing with wild excitement. Her lips moved.

"This is soooo bad....but sooo good," I guessed she might be saying.

He buried his face between her neck and shoulder, kissing or nibbling, I could not tell which. She managed to plant a wet kiss about halfway along his collarbone, and then twisted her head to run her tongue up to his ear.

He stepped back and fell to his knees. Pausing only to briefly slurp each nipple deep into his mouth -- he seemed to clamp his teeth down, I could make out the winch flashing across her brow - he buried his face in her lap. She crossed her ankles, pulling him deep towards her treasure.

Her lips began moving, no doubt making familiar little barks of pleasure interspersed with words of encouragement, spurring him on to eat her offerings even more enthusiastically. I noticed he was moving his jaw side to side... a little trick called 'motor boating', churning her clit sideways at the same time as it moved up and down, a combination that she loved tremendously. I suddenly realized that if he knew this, they must have done this before.

Her head snapped back, her fists tore at his hair; her orgasmic scream vibrated the glass separating us.

Then she flung her arms wide and relaxed her legs, laying there panting. He lifted his head just enough to look at her. They both spoke, though I could not see his lips moving.

"Are you spent?" I think he asked.

"Not so much that I'm going to leave you with that giant boner," she might have said, though I bet it was more likely "Are you nuts? I won't be fully satisfied until I feel your throbbing manhood stuffed up my sodden cunt. Get up here and fuck me properly."

Whichever it was, her grin spread from ear to ear and her gasping gave way to playful giggling.

He rose up smoothly, full of athletic grace, fuelled by testosterone. Perhaps I only imagined I could catch a glimpse of his steely cock as it slid home into her gaping hole without further warning or preparation. None was needed -- she was wet and ready, lubricated by her own excitement, mixed with his saliva.

Her mouth was as open as her pussy as he mounted her like a stallion servicing a mare in heat. I imagined I heard a crash as their pubic bones met and she screamed with pain and pleasure -- his huge cock no doubt stretching her, filling her fuller than she was used to. They began to fuck faster and harder, her hips leaping up off the cushion to meet his thrusts, his glutes tensing as he pushed deeper with each stroke.

My hand stroked my own meat in tempo with their fucking. I squeezed my balls as he squeezed her boobs, grasping and tugging her nipples as his cock slammed in and out of her cunt.

She threw her head back, her hair flying wildly around her angelic face as her nails gouged divots in his ass, urgently demanding orgasm, and her hips rising to meet his.

I had to admit that I wished that it was me hammering her velvety cunt, making her gasp for the air she needed as we screwed like beasts. She, perhaps unknowingly allowed me one last glimpse of the fire dancing in her eyes as she pulled his head down and raised her face, their lips sealing a deep tongue twisting kiss as his buttocks tensed and the fucking motion ceased for a mere millisecond. I was certain that her climax was happening at that same moment as he began pumping his seed into her womb. Her taut young walls would be milking his cock, coaxing ever drop of sperm out, those well developed muscles being used as god intended.

Did she know that I was watching? Did she care that my own orgasm burst forward in unison with hers, great gobs of goo splattering against the window pane, my eyes closing involuntarily? Between that second of darkness and my rush to find a paper towel to clean my mess, I missed the remainder of their fucking, but expected to see some cuddling afterglow as I sprayed the glass with ammonia, but the pool deck was empty, as if it had all just been my imagination.

Suddenly, from behind me, I heard her voice.

"Hey, sweetie," my nineteen year old girlfriend spoke, "why are you cleaning the windows?"