really
doing.
I sat down on the leather chair in the study and relaxed for a moment. It was dead quiet at this end of the house, the only noises I could hear were the faint sounds of Anne moving around in her room next door. That was another great thing about the study - it was in a perfect location, right next to Anne's room. I knew I had to be patient and wait a while, at least ten or fifteen minutes. Sometimes it would take half an hour, or maybe I would be unlucky and it wouldn't happen at all, this wasn't a precise science. I pulled a mountain biking magazine out of the drawer and read a couple of articles. After five minutes or so I could no longer hear any noise from next door. A further five minutes later I put down my magazine, left the study and quietly made my way out of the front door and around the side of the house.
I wasn't the only one with a secret in this house, Anne had one too. She loved to masturbate! She did it at least two or three times a week, maybe more, but as far as I was aware I was the only person who knew. I had found out completely by accident a couple of months ago. I happened to peek in her bedroom window while I was taking the garbage out and I caught her at her PC with her hand down her panties. It turned out her curtains didn't close properly and after that I had checked in every Wednesday night while I was taking out the garbage and other nights as well when I got the chance. Most of the time I was disappointed, but on a few occasions I happened to look in at the right time and got a real treat watching Anne get herself off.
It was hit and miss, but over several weeks I learned to tip the odds in my favor. My first bit of luck had been the study, where I could chill out and keep tabs on Anne without arousing suspicion. Then I started to notice patterns in her behavior. She would usually go to bed around midnight, but the nights when she wanted to masturbate she would often turn in a little bit earlier, maybe between eleven and half past. But the really big clue was what she
said
when she went to bed. If she just said "I'm going to bed" or something like that, then that was usually exactly what she was doing. But if she gave a reason or an excuse for going to bed, especially a contrived-sounding one, then it was a clue that she had something else on her mind. It was like she was lying to cover her back as a reflex action, even though there was nothing really strange about wanting an early night.
I was proud of myself when I noticed that pattern. If the signals were right, I knew there was a pretty good chance I would get a show that night and so I would often retreat to the study to 'work'. It wasn't a precise science and I was still left disappointed sometimes. On those occasions I would usually go crawling back to my room, hoping to release my built-up sexual desire on my fiancée instead, who didn't usually take too much persuading. What was it Anne had said when she went to bed tonight?
I'm not spending another hour listening to you guys talk shit.
That was a textbook example of one of her contrived excuses and at exactly twenty past eleven. As I said, it wasn't a precise science, but I was fairly sure I knew what she
really
had in mind.
I slowed down as I got to Anne's room so as not to make a sound. I carefully crouched down on the grass underneath her window and then slowly raised my head to look through the gap in the curtains. I never knew what I was going to see when I did this, as Anne's self-pleasure rituals took on several different guises. Sometimes she frigged off at her computer desk, I assumed while looking at some kind of porn. Sometimes she used an improvised sex aid such as a hairbrush or a pillow to help her get off. Sometimes she would just strip, lay on the bed, close her eyes and get knuckle deep. Sometimes she would do more than one of the above. One of the great things about watching at Anne's window was that it was never quite the same twice.
When I looked in tonight, she seemed to be playing a brand new game. She was standing in front of her full-length mirror in her underwear. I had rummaged through Anne's underwear drawers before and found very little other than plain white cotton bras and panties, and that was all I ever saw her dressed in, but tonight she was wearing something rather different. Both bra and panties were a fully opaque deep pink color. The bra was one of those half-cup plunging ones that are designed to be worn with a low-cut top and show a lot of cleavage. Anne certainly had a lot of cleavage to show and her young, voluptuous breasts were practically spilling out of the top of the cups. The panties were slightly more conservative, but were still rather skimpy at the back. Anne had a fantastic ass and they showed it off beautifully, her tight and firm buns clearly on display either side of the fabric.
Anne cavorted in front of the mirror, striking various poses. I wasn't sure what she was doing, I guessed she had purchased some new underwear and was just trying it on. Maybe she had a date at the weekend and wanted to see how she looked in her 'date underwear'. Or maybe it was just some kind of sexy dress-up game. Whatever the reason, I wasn't complaining as the end result was extremely sexy. I could feel my dick getting hard in my pants. I briefly wondered if she had been wearing this underwear all night, or if she had changed into it when she got back to her room. It would be a shame if I missed her getting changed. I would just have to hope she took it off again sometime soon.
Anne turned around a little, standing side-on to the mirror, to view her profile. Her body was now facing me and I could now see that the panties didn't really work at all. They were cut quite thin at the front and unfortunately Anne didn't do much maintenance on her secret garden. I chuckled to myself at the sight of her pubic hair sticking out either side of the panties. Not that I disliked it really. Liz had a neatly trimmed bush, so Anne's unkempt one was a bit different and gave her an aura of innocence and naivety which was a turn on for me. Anne showed no signs of caring about, or even noticing, her bikini line faux pas. She slowly ran her hands over her flat stomach, across her hips and down her thighs, pouting in the mirror as she did so. I pulled my dick out of my pants and started to stroke it slowly, trying to take in every aspect of her body. She ran her hands up her midriff again, this time lingering over her breasts and cupping them briefly, before crossing her arms and running her hands down her forearms. It was hardly a polished erotic dance, but it was good enough for me.
Then came the moment that I had been waiting for, Anne reached behind her back and unclipped her bra. She allowed the straps to fall slowly down her shoulders, then removed her arms from the straps and covered her breasts with her hands to replace the cups as the bra fell onto the floor. It was almost like she was practicing a strip routine. Did she have a job that I didn't know about? Not in this small town, I thought, and certainly not with that bikini line. She must just find it sexy doing it in front of the mirror.
Anne gently massaged her tits. Her hands were small and her tits were large, so there was plenty of 'spillage' around the outside. Eventually she slid her fingers slowly outwards, allowing me to see her areolas and nipples for the first time. She gave her nipples a little tweak, then a longer rub, then she started circling them with her thumbs and I noticed how firm they had become. Anne threw her head back and squeezed her breasts again, mashing them together over and over. Then she released her breasts altogether, walked over to the other side of the room and picked up a chair. She positioned it facing the mirror and then sat down, adjusting the chair to get the view in the mirror she desired. Once satisfied, she started playing with her breasts again.
I rubbed my dick harder as she slowly opened her legs. This was slower and more subtle than most of Anne's usual antics, but I appreciated the variation. I hoped this masturbation in front of the mirror in sexy underwear would become a regular fixture. After another half a minute fully exploring her breasts, she finally released them. She ran her right hand down her body, past her stomach and into her crotch. She then rubbed her snatch through the fabric of her pink panties, slowly applying more pressure to her mound. She was several feet away from me, but after a while I fancied I could see a wet patch forming on the opaque material of her panties. Eventually she brought her other hand in to join the party. She slipped her fingers underneath the crotch of the fabric and started doing... something. It was difficult to see what exactly because I was looking at her right profile and so her right hand obscured precisely what was going on. My imagination ran wild with the possibilities
Whatever she was doing, it was clearly having the desired effect. Her nipples were fully erect and as hard as bullets and her mouth hung open. She started to move her hips slowly in time with her fingers, which caused her tits to gently rock up and down and side to side. Just as I was starting to wonder which one of us would come first, she slipped her right hand down the front of her little pink panties. Whatever her fingers did there seemed to have the desired effect as thirty seconds later she convulsed in orgasm. Her hips jolted forward nearly causing her to fall off the chair. At the same time her back arched and her head tilted back as she rode the waves of pleasure that must have been shooting through her. Just at that point I felt my own orgasm arrive. As it hit I looked at Anne's expression of orgasmic pleasure, wishing I was firing streams of milky cum onto her face instead of harmlessly into the handkerchief that I held over the tip of my cock. I knew I would never fulfill that fantasy, but this was definitely the next best thing.
_______
This was
