As I pulled off the secondary highway, I wondered about the motel given the sole vehicle in the parking area. I surmised that Thursday night business was normally sparse in Nowhere, New Mexico, and the outward appearance of the place wasn't necessarily significant in regards to the quality. Besides, as road-weary as I was at the moment, a bath and a bed would suffice.
The lobby consisted of a counter and not much else. Frugal was the only way to describe the décor, and other than the guest book and a pen holder, the counter was bare.
Sitting behind the counter was a very old man, intently watching a classic black and white movie on the small television set perched on a diminutive table to one side of the counter. It seemed an honest effort for him to wrangle his way out of the overstuffed office chair and get me checked in. With no more than three words spoken, I was registered and handed a key. Lucky number seven I thought to myself as I walked from the lobby toward my car.
The room was Spartan but clean, and the old but overly large bathtub was a pleasant discovery. It was even more pleasant as I sank into a tubful of scorching hot water and let the miles of lonely road drift from my body.
Flopping on the bed wearing nothing but a turban and toga fashioned from the motel towels, I manned the television remote and clicked through all seven available channels. Eerily, the only movie showing was on channel seven. It turned out to be the same black and white flick as the motel desk clerk was watching. Desperate, I began to watch, and I was quickly drawn into a couple of the subtle romantic scenes.
Despite the old movie showing nothing but bare arms on the lead actress, and the male star never touching either above or below her elbows, the dialogue and actions of her handsome beau were beginning to have an effect. I began to slowly heat up and allow my mind to wander in thoughts and fantasies of where the romantic conversation, brief kisses, and oh-so-subtle touches might lead. It wasn't long before the toga was up around my navel and I had a finger working my pussy while the fingers of my other hand freed up a nipple.
With my head propped on the two pillows against the headboard, I bent my knees and spread my legs for better access, and exposed both breasts to the touch of my fingers. With fingers slipping in and out of my wetness, and pulling out to skitter across my clit, it wasn't long before the first orgasm tore through me like a shockwave of pleasure. My pussy gripped at my fingers as I pulled and twisted at engorged nipples. I was still quivering from the last rippling sensations when I noticed the window.
In my haste to grab a bath, I hadn't noticed the drapery on the window was slightly ajar, and just wide enough for me to spot the movement and catch a glimpse of eyes staring back at me. I had just allowed someone unknown a full-in-the-face view of my spread eagled pussy while indulging in the most intimate of acts. They had watched my fingers ravish my pussy, and observed the pulsing quivers of my entire orgasm. I was furious, mortified, and unbelievably turned on all at the same time.
With little in the way of options, and with a strange sense of arousal coursing through me, I simply looked into my observers eyes and opened my legs.
As I used my fingers to slightly spread the outer lips of my drenched pussy, I noticed some movement at the lower edge of the window, but in the sparse outside light I could not see any detail. I thought about reaching to turn off the light above the bed, but then I knew the observer would not be able to see me, and I was now fully aroused at putting on a little performance for whoever it was. I had to know more.
Yanking the towel from around me and allowing whoever was watching to see me completely nude, I slowly moved to the foot of the bed and arose to open the curtains just a little more. All the while I was looking directly into the eyes of my admirer.
