The Window 37

Darkness fills the night, as I wander alone.

You're standing in your bedroom.

I see you through the window.

Wrapped in just a towel.

I should look away, I should carry on walking. I can't, I am transfixed by you.

The brush moves through your hair, slowly, deliberately.

Watching yourself in the mirror.

A smile forming on your lips, what thought move through your mind.

You bend down, exposing yourself to my eyes, I swallow, moisture descending.

One leg lifts, followed by the other.

You stand, your towel slips from you, leaving you there in just a crisp pair of white knickers.

I can see you, looking at yourself., examining.

Your nipples hard and erect in the cool evening air.

You head tilts, your eyes, focused on something beyond my view.

Fingers move up your body, you take a single one into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it, moistening it.

Dragging it down your chin, your neck, you arrive at your nipple.

Slowly you begin to circle it.

A small bite of your lip, releasing in through your teeth.

You watch yourself, I watch you.

You start pinching at yourself, playing with your nipples. Hardening them further.

Your eyes move down, away from the mirror, looking at something.

As your other hand rises again, I see your fingers wrapped around your hairbrush.

The brush moves across your chest, scrapping at your nipples. Your eyes close.

Small red lines forming in its path.

Your mouth opens in what I can only see as pleasure.

I can not look away.

Stopping your motions, your nipples stiff and painful.

Placing one hand on the dressing table, the other rises behind you, brush in situ.

With one swift hard motion you bring it downwards, connecting with your covered cheek.

Over and over, harder and harder you spank yourself.

My breath catches in my throat.

I imagine the sound, I see your heightening arousal on your face.

You stare at yourself, as your redness deepens.

My mouth drying further.

Without warning you stop, standing again, I can see your wetness coating your underwear. An ever increasing spot.

You put down the brush, fingers gliding across your stomach, nails scratching at your flesh.

Playing with your nipples still, how I wish I could touch you.

Fingers slip into the white void.

I can see movement, but it's not enough.

Your fingers circle your clit, spreading the wetness.

You move to sit on the edge of your bed.

As if you can hear my thoughts, you remove the barrier, leaving them pooled on the floor.

Spreading your legs wider, nipples hard.

Finally, I can see your wetness.

Your fingers pull at your nipples, pleasure fills your eyes.

You slip between your folds, rubbing at your clit. Slow, deliberate circles.

Pinching, circling, moaning into the room.

Your hand moves lower, one forward motion, with three fingers you enter yourself.

In and out, pushing into yourself, stretching yourself, rubbing at your inner walls.

Something in your eyes tells me you want more.

Without warning you stop, standing you walk over and pick up the brush.

Returning to the bed, planting your feet firmly on the floor you bend over it.

All of you, I can see, open, ready, wanting.

Your hand appear between your legs, this time you impale yourself with four fingers. Body moving.

Harder this time, needing to go deeper.

In and out, in and out.

Clenching at your own intrusion, rubbing yourself on the sheets, needing a friction beyond your reach.

Brush in your other hand, rising off the bed beside you.

With your next thrust inwards, you bring the brush down onto yourself.

You back arching with the sensation.

Over and over, as your fingers fuck you, you hand moves the brush to your skin, I can feel every motion.

Spanking, fucking.

In and out, going deeper, harder, faster.

Up and down, firmer.

Your wetness drips from you, coating your thighs.

As you rhythm continue, your thumb moves upwards, finding your clit.

In and out, walls clenching, pulling you further into the void.

Up and down, cheek reddening.

Round and round, clit enlarging.

Your body moving on the bed, searching for something.

Unable to control the jerking.

One final push into yourself, fingers curling at your inner walls.

One final circle of your clit, pleasure building.

One final spank, flesh darkening.

Removing your fingers, a flow of moisture follows, gushing onto the floor below.

Your whole body trembles.

Shaking against your will.

Beautiful, mesmerising.

Eventually you regain yourself. Rising once more to your feet, you walk over to the window.

Hands reaching out. As you draw the curtains, you look down at me. Our eyes lock. A smirk on your lips.

You knew.