The Balcony

Last fall I was staying at a small four story hotel in New Orleans. The appointments and decor were first class and in the main room of the suite a set of double french doors gave access to a narrow wrought iron balcony. Soon after I'd unpacked I'd opened the doors to let in the pleasantly warm late autumn air. A couple of times during the afternoon I stepped out onto the balcony and looked out across the city. Glancing down I realized I had a third story view of a quiet street.

Then, at sunset, while taking another break from my laptop I heard a quiet clink directly above me. A woman was standing on the fourth floor balcony. The balcony floors were made of metal grating and I could see her extended arm, as well as the hand holding a glass she'd placed on the railing. But what focused my attention was the realization that although she wore a flowing green and white robe that came to her ankles I, in looking straight up, had an unimpeded view of the lower half of her naked body illuminated by the dying sunlight. Since her legs were at least shoulder width apart, the outer lips of her pussy were clearly visible through a fuzzy bramble of light blond hair. A moment later, as she leaned over to rest her elbows on the railing, I saw the white rounded globes of the bottoms of her full breasts and just a hint of the pink of her areolas.

I was stunned by this abrupt transition from business planning to seeing the most intimate areas of a woman's anatomy. I don't normally think of myself as a voyeur but in that moment I needed to see everything it was possible to see. I'd developed a sudden bulge in my boxers that I found myself rubbing as I drank in the sight of her standing above me.

Faintly I heard a man's voice speaking, saw the woman straighten up and turn and, as quickly as she'd appeared, she was gone.

Because of the rush of seeing her I was trembling and breathing heavily. I tried to go back to work but couldn't. Every minute or so I was on my feet, gazing up at the balcony above. It was almost an hour later, after darkness had fallen, that my persistence was rewarded. She was still wearing the long robe but to my consternation I could only see vague shadows. I almost cursed out loud. Seconds later I remembered the small flashlight in my carryall; frantically I dug through the assorted items until it was in my hand.

When I returned to my balcony I saw that a man in a short white terrycloth robe had joined her, standing with his arm around her waist as they enjoyed New Orlean's glittering skyline. With him there I didn't dare shine the little flashlight up between her legs. She began to press her hip against him, rubbing sinuously. He gave a low chuckle and began stroking her bottom through the long robe. She laughed in a way that made my balls retract. He pulled up her robe until it was bunched at the top of her buttocks. She laughed again and bent over. I could just make out the gleaming globes of her ass in the faint light that came from their room. My cock was rock hard and held tight in my left fist. Quickly moving behind her he parted his robe, produced his cock, and urgently penetrated her. His soft grunt and her low moan fell on my ears simultaneously.

At this point I was so excited that I didn't give a shit if they caught me or not. I clicked on the little flashlight and aimed it up at where their bodies were joined. My hand was trembling and it was hard to keep the beam on one spot. But what I glimpsed in those moments when I got the light right was enough to set me on fire. A gleam of blond hair, the glistening shaft of the guy's cock, distended pinkness, the jiggling whiteness of her bottom, his balls in a thatch of black hair, and the soles of her bare feet. My left hand was whipping up and down my cock. I could hear his grunts and her sighs as well as the soft slap as their bodies met.

And then it was over. He slammed into her, held himself, and groaned. A second later he withdrew and her robe fell down. I flicked off my flashlight. I felt a speck of moisture hit my cheek. And abruptly they both turned and went back in their room.

I thought I heard a sound below me and turned to look down to my right. On a second floor balcony several rooms over a form stood silhouetted by the shifting light of a TV. I knew it was a woman. I knew she was watching. I wondered how much she'd seen. I was feeling crazy. I closed my eyes and remembered that cock thrusting into that woman's pink cunt with its curly golden fleece. Seconds later my come was spurting out through the wrought iron bars in front of me. The feeling of release was incredible. I glanced down but the woman was gone.

I was quite insane until the early hours of the morning. I'd masturbate thinking of what I'd watched and how I myself had been watched, lay back and try to sleep only to stir restlessly until I masturbated again. Never in my life had I been so aroused. Finally I managed to get to sleep. Far too soon I got my wake up call and had to prepare to face the world. I stayed in the hotel for two more days but nothing else happened. I did see a couple in the hotel restaurant that I was almost certain was the couple I'd watched but in everyday circumstances they didn't seem especially stimulating or erotic although it was a thrill for me to look at them and recall what I'd witnessed. I never figured out who the woman who'd watched me was.