Natalya didn't know when they had started, these late-night strip-teases in front of her apartment window. But one night as a teenager, undressing with the curtains open, she had felt the thrill of exposing herself, and it became a weekly occurrence. Dancing naked and alone, surrounded by all the lights of the city and the blackened sky, made her feel sexy and strong and completely free.
It was safe, she told herself, because she was on the fourteenth floor, and the building right across from hers, the Vedere, had been vacant for years. But there was just enough of a chance of being seen- maybe someone on the street below could see into her window, maybe some driver would look up through his sun roof, maybe someone was wandering around the old Vedere- to make the display exciting. So a few nights a week around midnight, when she undressed for bed, Natalya would do her little show.
It was different every time. Sometimes she started with her shirt, pulling it sensually over her head and flinging it onto the queen-sized bed. Sometimes the pants came first, sliding down her narrow hips and smooth thighs to her feet. But next came her favorite part, freeing her small breasts from the push-up bra and letting the cold night air turn the soft tips of her nipples into sensitive, swollen buttons. Usually she would dance around for a while in her panties, swiveling her hips and pressing her body against the full-length window. When she could wait no longer, she hooked her fingers into the lacy sides of her panties and glided them inch by inch down her legs until they slipped from her knees and dropped to the floor.
She would then pick up the panties with her toes and drop them a few feet away. She continued her dance completely naked, save for a hairclip and the tiny diamond stud in her bellybutton. Reaching up with one slender arm, she would pull the clip from her light brown hair and let the soft curls fall around her bare shoulders. Shaking her head so the hair caressed her skin, she would spread her legs and reach up to grab the curtain rod, looking at the reflection of her tightly stretched body in the window. Then, slowly turning to see herself from behind, she pushed out her small, round bottom and arched her back.
Sometimes she danced longer, but usually by this point she couldn't help touching her hardened nipples or the soft skin of her stomach. After just one touch, it was impossible to stop. She would run her fingertips all over her body, stopping at the insides of her thighs for just a moment before continuing on to her breasts to encircle them until she reached the nipples. Every tap on the nipples was like a jolt of electricity throughout her body, weakening her knees and causing a small gush of juices that threatened to overflow and drip to the floor. Her clit demanded attention, throbbing with anticipation. But not yet- she would think- not yet. First she had to run her hands up her thighs, stopping just before the swollen lips and then approaching from above, tickling down from her belly button to the creases between her thighs and her stomach until-
There. She rubbed her clit and plunged her fingers deep inside, inhaling deeply and sitting, almost falling, onto the end of the bed. Lying back, she couldn't help but groan a little as waves of sensation rolled from her clit through the rest of her body. With one hand, she gently caressed and squeezed her nipples, while the other hand moved with increasing urgency toward the elusive g-spot, just out of reach, and returned to the clit. Rubbing first in circles, then back and forth, she came closer and closer to orgasm. Another groan escaped her lips- she bit down to keep from screaming as the climax drew closer. Almost- almost- she pressed down on the clit with two fingers and rubbed it in ever-faster circles. At last, her head fell back and her body arched off the bed as the first orgasm exploded from her core.
As the waves subsided, she began to massage her whole pussy, keeping her palm on the sensitive clit until it was impossible to wait any longer. Quickly, the second orgasm approached. Rubbing her clit with impatient fingers, she tightened the muscles in her legs and hips until- a second climax, bigger than the first.
Exhausted, she would turn out the lamp and fall asleep, naked and sweaty on the light blue sheets, completely and utterly spent.
Alex
For Alex, the constant moving was the worst thing about his father's job with the phone company. And the worst thing about moving every year was that he was always alone. By now he knew the friends he made in one city would forget him when he moved to another, no matter how close they had become, so he didn't make an effort these days to become more than a casual acquaintance.
In the absence of real friends, and a real, live love interest, he had developed a colorful fantasy life. So at first, he thought it was just his imagination when, from the window of his new apartment in the recently renovated Vedere, he saw a beautiful girl about his age begin to pull her tight red t-shirt over her head. He had caught glimpses of women undressing before; it was a common occurrence in apartment buildings. But this- this was something different. For one thing, he was so close to her it seemed he could see every little downy hair on her stomach, every curl of lace on her sexy red panties, and- oh god, his dick almost burst through the zipper- every pink wrinkle of her small, erect nipples.
Without taking his eyes off the unbelievable scene in the opposite window, he turned off the light in his room to see better and pulled a chair up close to the window. For a moment a guilty thought floated into his head- should he really be watching this? But this girl was stripping in front of an open window, surely she intended to be seen...And with that thought, came another, straight from his fantasy land of made-up girlfriends and invented sexual experiences: maybe she was performing for him. Or, if not for him, maybe she was performing for whoever wanted to watch, and maybe she wanted to do more than perform...
With this thought he quickly unzipped his pants and pulled them and his black boxer-briefs down to his ankles. His dick, now freed, sprung up toward the clenched muscles of his stomach as he pulled off his black t-shirt and groaned with relief and desire. As he watched the girl pull down her panties, his hand went to his dick and began to stroke. He couldn't believe this was happening. It seemed impossible. And yet, his wide-open eyes and the rock-hard penis he held in his fist told him this vision was real.
When the girl touched her nipples, he began to stroke faster, using his other hand to caress his thighs, then his balls. When she moved her hands toward her pussy and finally pushed two fingers inside, he almost exploded. But years of masturbatory experience had taught his body to delay orgasm until the sense of anticipation became overwhelming and the moment impossible to put off any longer.
Recovering, he realized the girl, this goddess, had lay down on the bed, so that all he could see now was her spread legs and her open lips. As her strokes became more rapid and her legs moved involuntarily wider and narrower, he knew she was close and increased his own pace. When her legs straightened and her back arched as she climaxed, he let himself go. His cum splattered onto the window, obscuring parts of the beautiful view as he sat back with a sigh and watched her play with her swollen pussy lips. He was surprised when she began to rub her clit again, because he had heard that girls become painfully sensitive after orgasm. But this girl clearly was different, and he watched in amazement as she had a second orgasm and almost fell off the bed.
Alex wished he could have a second orgasm that quick, because he was still so turned on. But his dick wasn't ready to go again, and he was relaxed enough now to try sleeping in that new, stiff bed with his old sheets that didn't quite fit. He dragged himself over and flopped down on the mattress, not even bothering to put on new boxers or wipe off the window.
Natalya
Tonight, Natalya had been desperately horny. She had seen a movie earlier that day with such strong sexual tension and such captivating eroticism that she had been in a state of advanced arousal all day. With every step her jeans rubbed against her swollen clit, bringing her almost to the point of orgasm but- not quite. So when night finally came and she began to undress, she didn't notice at first that something was different.
When she did start to sense something amiss, she couldn't tell what it was. Not stopping her show, she tried to figure it out- was it the light? The temperature? Something about what she was wearing? Then it hit her. The Vedere was no longer dark. Suddenly she remembered hearing that it was finally to be opened, the long-vacant apartments finally rented out. And as all this cascaded through her head, while her hands moved to pull down her panties, she noticed more: there was a boy in the window across from her, and he was taking off his pants.
And now he was beginning to stroke himself. It was like fate, she thought. A new guy moves in across from me, and he's an exhibitionist too! An attractive exhibitionist. She wondered if he knew she was watching him. But she didn't wonder for too long, because her fingers had found their way down her body to her clit and she couldn't really think coherently anymore.
As she watched his strokes become faster and faster, she lay back on the bed and attacked her pussy with frantic fingers, seeking a climax that had been eluding her all day. Like that- almost-
