People in the West Village never close the curtains in their windows. I used to get the feeling that they leave the windows open purposely, so other New Yorkers can see the opulent living rooms, the spiral staircases and other trappings of wealth the vast majority of us will never experience.
That night I was walking down West 10th Street toward 6th Avenue. It was a cold night, but I was trying to convince myself to walk home. It would have been easier to take a cab, but money was tight. Besides, I needed more cardio in my workout. Before I set out on my trek, I took a long glance into one of those open windows, imaging how life could be when money isn't a concern.
I stopped walking when I saw her. Long thick black hair caught the light when she walked across the room. The short silk robe swayed as she moved to reveal tanned skin surrounding supple muscles. I watched her turn away from me and start up the stairs. The tight cheeks of her ass swayed with her hips as strong legs lifted her up. I decided she was a dancer, or a swimmer. Her moves were supple and confident. I stopped for a moment to admire the view before drifting off into the cold night.
He came up behind her quickly and blocked my view. He looked like some sort of athlete too; with short hair, wide shoulders and a thin waist. Before I could curse him for ruining the show, he pushed the little dancer forward, forcing her to stumble on the staircase. For a moment I thought he might be attacking her, but she turned to face him playfully.
I saw she had bright blue eyes and a wide smile. The loose red robe opened to me now. I could see she wasn't a swimmer. Those breasts she bought would have slowed her down in the water, but they filled out her frame very nicely now. When I saw him gather both sides of her face and pull her in for a kiss, I knew I would have done the same thing.
I looked up and down 10th Street to see if someone was watching me watching them. The streets of New York City are rarely barren, even in the middle of winter in the middle of the night. A trio of guys passed me. I reached for my cell phone and pretended to look at the screen, shaking my head as if I didn't like what I saw. I kept shaking my head like an idiot until they were about twenty feet away, then I looked back into the window.
Her firm legs were wrapped around him. His hand was in her hair and his dick was in her mouth. From my angle, her head game was exceptional. She stroked the underside of him with her tongue and left a moist trail that ran back to her lips. Her hand stroked his base firmly and his tip popped in and out of her mouth with a slow deliberate rhythm. The muscles in his back clenched and his head rocked back. I wondered how long he would last.
A cab slid down the street. I was worried for a minute that he would stop to ask me if I needed a lift (cab drivers always ask you if you want a ride when you don't want one) but the back seat was occupied. I held my phone up to my ear to continue the charade. When the cab was out of sight, I looked back in the window.
She clearly knew his limits. She stopped sucking, looked up at him with a smile, said something that was clearly wicked and then lay back on the steps. Her body was on full display now. The firm breasts, the thin waist and the wide hips came together in a fantastic package. He dropped to his knees as if he was worshiping an altar. From what I could see, he was.
