View From a Window

The very next day Graeme's patience in the small bedroom was rewarded. He had come back to the villa alone, lugging shopping without Jill, in time to see Clarette waving off some friends. She looked delightful in a light blue dress with it all swinging around her knees. He waved and she waved at him. He went over and invited she and Jarrett for a return visit. Drinks at Jill and his villa. As soon as he had packed away the groceries, Graeme made his way to the back bedroom. He had already shed his clothes. It was unlikely he would see Clarette in the garden, but it was a possibility. Certainly, it would be good enough if she did simply appear in that dress, even if she did not take it off. He was feeling very much 'in the mood' and it was both good to shed his hot clothes and so much better to be naked, even if she did appear. Bad thoughts perhaps. Bad, or was it merely naughty thoughts about his neighbour. It would be good enough to see her standing in her garden in that dress, perhaps with the sun behind so he could discern more of her shape through it. But it was lowish cut and he could think all sort of things if only she was there. Seated would be fine, a knee crossed over the other knee allowing pleasant thoughts of him separating them.

Clarette was not in sight but he could hear the sounds of water moving in the pool next door. Perhaps she had come outside, slipped off blue dress, brassiere and panties and got down into the cool water. He would like to have seen that. Ideally a slow removal. Maybe she was even swimming naked, legs opening and closing rhythmically in breaststroke. The thought was enough to make Graeme rise. A good feeling standing there naked with an erection. The naked voyeur. He stood listening to sounds of splashing water until they ceased, thinking and imagining. He leant forward hopefully. Might she appear?

Yes! Not naked but with her green bikini on. Such a shame - he had enjoyed his thoughts of her just shedding clothes - slowly - and getting into the pool. It was, though, a wet bikini and he could see the shape of her nipples through the thin material. It was superb to stand there seeing her almost naked - well, but for the 'best bits' - whilst he was naked and strongly erect. Naturally he grasped himself and stroked. Clarette had brought a towel with her and he watched her towel herself dry right where he had watched her husband stand with his penis up in the air a few days before.

And then she unclipped her bikini top. Graeme gawped, almost shaking with excitement. His hand dropped from his penis and he just stood there with it rigidly pointing towards her. What a vantage point. What a place to spy! He had seen Clarette's breasts before but that did not lessen the excitement. So good to see her drop the bikini top on the seat and then quite roughly towel both breasts making the long nipples move. Amazing that minutes before he had been talking to her in the street and now he was seeing her - like that.

Would she perhaps remove the bikini bottoms as well and dry herself, perhaps patting her sex with it or even sawing the towel a little between her legs or, unfortunately, just leave them on for the sun to work its drying effect?

Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes! Down they came, pulled down wet legs. One foot up in the air and then the other as she stepped out of them. Graeme's mouth fell open and his fingers reached and slid his skin. Yes!

He was able to inspect Clarette at last. Dark haired, though it was at that moment tied behind but there was no dark hair below; thirty years old or so yet as bald as a little girl. A delightful plumpness over her pubic bone and, right there, that ever-intriguing slit running downwards. Why did she shave? Graeme preferred the hair but was it for Jarrett so he did not find himself getting stray hairs in his mouth; did it imply extensive oral sex? A lovely thought to imagine his neighbours, nose to tail, soixante-neuf, Jarrett's tongue in Clarette and Jarrett's penis in Clarette's mouth. Graeme would like to see that. Or was it to make it easy to wear a bikini, or because she or Jarrett liked the look or...

Wonderful! Clarette had turned and there were her buttocks, round, soft, generous and feminine. Graeme thought of patting, of spanking, of bending her over and...

Jarrett had masturbated there on the seat. Graeme had watched, seen the man even ejaculate; had almost let himself come at that so intimate moment, almost but not quite; now, would Clarette do the same. Graeme would have no compunction about letting fly to her. But she did not. She simply settled herself lengthwise upon the bench and closed her eyes. One knee drawn up, the other straight leaving Graeme still with a view of her lovely slit and, of course, a buttock pressed down on the wood and her full breasts with their small manly areolae, yet rather long, intriguing nipples.

Graeme went to get the binoculars. Clarette did not look like she would be moving in a hurry and, well, nipples needed examining in closeup! A tumescent man hurrying around his home in search of binoculars. A tumescent man anxious to return to his voyeuring. A tumescent man hurrying out into the sunshine and around his pool. Where were they?

He found them. By the time he returned Clarette had gone. Such disappointment. He felt a fool to have gone for the binoculars. He stood staring out of the window at the empty seat wishing her back. Upon the ground the discarded wet bikini. Surely, she would come back for the two scraps of material and hang them up.

Graeme's penis began to droop. Without the stimulation of voyeuring and seeing the naked or part naked woman; without thoughts of a certain nature and without his hand, his penis was returning to its resting mode. Organs that had been preparing to make the cocktail that was semen were stood down. The firing of the penis was for another day, or later that day anyway.

Hopeful Graeme stood staring for a while longer but minutes passed and still nothing, not even a butterfly flitting by the seat. He turned to go, to do other things but out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and turned back. Bingo! Clarette as naked as before but in her hand a long green cucumber...

What!

Below, Graeme's cock surged up into the air. Why a cucumber? Why indeed! It might just have been Clarette was about to make a salad for dinner but no chopping board and no knife. Graeme could think of but two possibilities. Perhaps she was going to eat it but who ate a cucumber like a banana, certainly not the large ones like that, rather than those delicious small Mediterranean ones. Had it been a banana Graeme's penis would have probably surged anyway. Seeing a girl peel a banana and then bring it to her mouth had very strong sexual connotations only slightly upset by the act of biting and chewing. But a cucumber! If she was to eat it like a banana then at least the sight of the very substantial, undoubtedly phallic shape, being brought to her mouth would send shivers down Graeme, possibly resulting in an outpouring of cum if he was wanking. But the likelihood, as far as Graeme's imagination and assessing of possibilities was, it had been brought out into the sunshine for sexual pleasure. Most likely she would both suck and fuck herself with it. Graeme only stroked his penis lightly. He anticipated a long and rewarding voyeuring session and was not about to waste opportunity.

Wonderful to see Clarette rather nervously look left and right but not up to Graeme's hidden window. Not to where she should really be looking to see if she was watched. Slowly she lifted the cucumber upwards, very much as if it was an erecting penis. But what man had a penis so long or, really so thick (or as green, of course!), and if he had would it actually stand so proudly or, instead, hang down despite being hard and aroused?

Clarette licked. So much the male fantasy. Woman and a cucumber. Did women really do what he was so hoping Clarette would do with things like vegetables? Was it normal? He would ask Jill if he could find some reason to casually introduce it into conversation. He had bought one himself that very day, it was already in the fridge. Perhaps as he casually prepared dinner that evening - with a salad - he might just comment and ask.

Whether women did or not as a matter of course, and Graeme certainly thought he would, indeed have done, had he been a woman - though, there again, there was rather a lot he thought he would do if he was suddenly to find himself transformed!

Clarette moved the cucumber almost to the horizontal, her eyes staring straight ahead almost towards Graeme but rather below, perhaps unfocused. What was she thinking? He watched her free hand sliding up a thigh. As fascinating to watch the hand as her mouth. The green cock was now resting on her tongue. What was she thinking, what man was she imagining? Graeme would love to have known her thoughts. Her eyes closed.

Whose cock was she imagining? Clearly not Jarrett - not that large. Nor, of course, Graeme either - there was no way he measured up to that. A tall and substantial bloke with a big nose? But height, build and even noses were not really a guide to penis size - or so he understood! But whatever or whoever she imagined her thoughts must be of a man with an enormous, thick peeled cock. Massive and strong. Even Graeme could not but be aroused by the thought of seeing such a thing in the flesh pushing at Clarette's lips. The Jolly Green Giant perhaps!

It was, though, just the cucumber and Graham stroked as he watched Clarette's lips widen and stretch as slowly she pushed it in. In Graeme's mind, of course, the thought of him doing exactly that, even holding his fingers and thumb in a ring to get something of the feeling - but Clarette's lips were soft and wet. Not so his hands! But the thought... the thought!

So good to watch the mock fellation. So unexpected to see anything like that. It was almost as if it was a show for him. But that could not be. It could not be that Jarrett had masturbated and come for him, nor that Clarette was teasing him in this way. No way she could know he happened to be behind the window and, surely, she could not have helped her eyes at least once dwelling upon where the hidden window sat behind the passiflora?

Below her fingers had disappeared within the now revealed hairless outer lips of her sex. Graeme raised the forgotten binoculars and focused. Such crisp closeness and detail. It was as if he was kneeling in front of her, as if he could just reach out his hand and touch. Indeed, his hand left his penis and reached out into the air as if about to touch - as if about to join with her fingers in touching. Her intimate flesh and the invading fingers there for him to see. Her standing clitoris there, pink and smooth for him to see until a finger came and stroked. Out between Graeme's lips came his tongue. Subconscious, but very much imagining himself licking her, burying his face where her fingers played. Quite remarkable to see, in close up, her fingers inside herself and then they were withdrawn completely from view leaving him with an unobscured view of his neighbour's pudenda - everything so revealed. Jarrett's playground for him to enjoy - at a distance.

And then, through the lenses of the binoculars, Graeme saw the arrival not of Jarrett's plaything - and that would have been obscured by his body had he been there - but the much more substantial green vegetable. Would it really go in? Graeme lowered his binoculars and watched how Clarette was holding the cucumber - firmly with one hand around it - and pushing at herself. Her suddenly open eyes and mouth, staring straight at him - but perhaps unfocused. It was in! In her mind was she imagining the big bloke pinning her - was it forced or consensual?

Graeme wanked, perspiring freely and so worked up by what he was seeing, both wanting to pull himself to ejaculation - to spurt as the cucumber could not - and wanting to hold back and voyeur the more.

Clarette was moving it, sliding the cucumber. Graeme raised the binoculars again and stared. He saw how stretched open the woman was, how the moving green 'penis' pulled at her, how her swollen clitoris was being moved as the green vegetable slid to and fro.

"Pull it out and let me in," he whispered. But would he even touch the sides!

"Oh yes, oh yes!" It was out and she was sucking upon it. Such an erotic sight to Graeme. The perfect idea for the man. Alternating fucking and being sucked by the woman. Sticking his knob wet from her into her mouth. She tasting her own wetness. Only bettered by the idea of going from one woman's vagina into the mouth of another. A remarkably unlikely thing for Graeme ever to do.

He could not hold back. He had overdone his wanking. Finger and thumb accelerated and as Clarette continued to suck with closed eyes, Graeme spurted. Gobs of semen issued from his knob, alas not into Clarette's mouth but very much in her direction, to splash onto the tiled floor. A long drawn out moan from Graeme, an absolutely excellent cum - and very much one with his eyes open and watching.

Graeme sat and watched Clarette bring herself off. A little cross with himself for coming too soon. Annoying to sit with limp dick and the enthusiasm gone for a while with such a sight to see. He watched the shuddering and thought he heard a moan or sigh through the mosquito grill. And then Clarette picked up the bikini and walked off. Graeme heard the splash as Clarette clearly thought a cooling swim was in order after her play. A good idea too for Graeme. He was certainly hot and his skin more than damp with the heat.

The cucumber had been left behind on the seat. Graeme could not resist going for his camera and taking its picture. Of course he should have got his camera earlier. Should have photographed Clarette at play. A strangely innocent picture, sun drenched ochre plaster wall with attractive old wooden bench set upon stone floor with a cucumber resting upon it. A rather odd still life composition. Why the cucumber? Why just the cucumber? Why not an artistically arranged group of vegetables, perhaps set in a trug as if freshly gathered? But Graeme knew. Knew that the sheen of wetness at one end of the cucumber was not the morning dew. A photograph erotic by association - and his memory!

He hoped Jill would not notice his not infrequent visits to the other bedroom. He took to keeping a few clothes in the wardrobe and stuff under the bed in the suitcase so he had an excuse or two for why he might be in there. Jill not unsurprisingly tended to spend much of the time outside by the pool or under the loggia out of the sun so did not notice his visits. A bit crazy really going to spy on the neighbour's wife when he had a perfectly good naked woman in his own villa! Moreover, one who sometimes unexpectedly decided 'now' would be a really good time for a suck or a fuck. Not very convenient if moments before he had been wanking and ejaculating in the small bedroom. It took Graeme a good fifty minutes to get a stand again. Graeme had timed himself once or twice! Of course, so good to have a wife who seemed to have found a new pleasure in sex. A tendency to reach out for his cock and stroke it. Perhaps it was because it was so very much 'there' dangling out beneath his tee shirt. His shorts seemed to get left by the front door.

So good having checked the bedroom with some disappointment, then to go down the stairs and out into the sunshine to see Jill beckoning him over, with just the slightest hint of naughtiness, an almost imperceptible opening and closing movement of legs, as she lay on her pool recliner. Almost imperceptible except to the male of the species tuned to such indications of readiness to mate.

And mate they did, there in the shadow of the loggia where it was still hot in the early afternoon sun. Does heat encourage copulation? Perhaps for some the heat saps the strength and the enthusiasm - 'it's too hot for that!' - but for others the heat makes the blood flow that much quicker and a certain randiness comes. It was like that for Graeme and Jill and perhaps too for Jarrett and Clarice, for when Graeme ascended the stairs again, actually to find his book by his bed, he had quite a surprise when he just happened to glance in at the second bedroom and out of the window.

Post coitus he had dropped off for a while. Certainly, the heat of the afternoon caused a natural drowsiness accentuated by the expulsion of semen. A siesta is not at all a bad thing even for Englishmen who 'go out in the midday sun.' It had been a first rate 'fuck. Jill had most certainly 'come' and Graeme had made what seemed a 'large deposit' though he had not actually looked to see! They had both gone to sleep afterwards.

Wandering upstairs, Graeme just glanced in at the spare room and then could not help going in and taking a quick look at his special window. It was both exciting to see Jarrett and Clarice outside the window but frustrating as well. It had been a great fuck with his wife but why had Jarrett and Clarice after days of waiting decided to take that moment to put on a show for him when his balls were empty and his penis as much use as a chocolate teapot? Not just one of them but both there together. Of course, to be fair to them, they had not in any way decided to do 'it' at that moment to annoy him; had no idea he was watching and the reason they had chosen that moment was probably just the same as Jill's had been - they fancied a fuck.

But there they were sitting naked on the seat right opposite his window, not actually engaged in coition but the fact of Jarrett's tumescence and their kissing did rather suggest something was in the offing, something worth watching. Best of course watched with an erect penis and a stroking hand. Could he perhaps encourage his penis to fill with blood so quickly after his recent copulation?

Lovely to see the couple so close together, see their arms around the other; observe Clarette's breasts with their little areolae, her fine legs with just a hint of her slit visible at their top; note Jarrett's 'barometer' of arousal standing. What would Jarrett think if he knew his neighbour could see that? Just not something you showed to friends and neighbours! Perhaps Clarette was equally aroused, but so much more difficult to see wetness from a distance.

In the bedside drawer Graeme had left the binoculars - best if they were kept somewhere, he had reasoned! Much easier to closely examine the state of Clarette's nipples through them - it brought the image so close that he felt he could have reached out and touched both long and erect teats. As probable indicator of arousal as Jarrett's penis. Graeme's mouth opened a little way as he imagined - or rather leant forward and pretended - sucking a nipple. But he was beaten to it as Jarrett's mouth appeared in the binocular's image and did for real what Graeme only imagined, rather obscuring his view.

Looking over the top of the binoculars, Graeme could see Jarrett's hand was now resting on Clarette's thigh. He used the binoculars to watch its journey. It moved up her soft thigh just as he was sure it would, and as it moved so those thighs opened, affording an interested observer a close-up view of what lay between - and very nice it was too. And as Jarrett's fingers moved closer so Graeme's penis grew. Good!

Of course, it would have been just so good to finger Clarette in person, but Graeme was certainly getting much of the experience vicariously. He could almost imagine Clarette's scent but, of course, that was Jill's rising warmly from his own standing erection. A lovely whiff of sex there in the room with him.

Manly fingers touching Clarette intimately, her thighs spreading wider, and all visible in Graeme's binoculars. Fingers stroking, fingers parting soft pink lips, fingers very much showing Graeme all of Clarette; her sexual opening there in front of him through the binoculars as if he, not Jarrett, was down there between her thighs. Graeme's penis throbbed as he imagined pushing in - as he had done to Jill not very long before. He could see Jarrett's forefinger stroking her clitoris, but the way into her body unobstructed. The thought of pushing in whilst Jarrett stroked her - sharing the task. He wondered what it would be like to share a woman.