Author’s note: This story was inspired by the sexy LeasaJ. While the story is fiction and fantasy, its genisis is of real life events.
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I loved those warm summer nights. I only lived a short distance from work in this small town, and I actually enjoyed walking to and from the office. My nightly stroll home, especially in weather like this, was the best part of my day. It afforded me time to wind down after a late shift of crunching numbers. At the same time, I got an occasional chance to take in a few privileged sights on the way.
I’m not a peeper, per se. I was as respectable and educated as the next family man in his late 20s. I would never have wanted to jeopardize that by giving in to such a perverted whim and going to jail or something. That would leave my wife and kids in the lurch, being related to a convicted sex offender, and a black one at that. No, I was just glancer, because a lot of eyes already were on me in this all white little borough.
There were times when I had seen barely dressed women or teenagers necking as I passed an open door or lighted window. But I never stopped walking. Oh, I enjoyed some of these views, but I had to be extra careful. We were the only black family in our neighborhood, so we stood out wherever we went.
I got off work at midnight and there was never anyone else outside, except for those times when a cop would ride by. I always got nervous when that happened. It would not have been out of the ordinary to get arrested for WWB – walking while black.
It was still a great place to raise a family. Most of the folk were simple, friendly, trusting people from the hard working middle class. It was nothing to walk past a house where the front door was left open all night while the denizens slept with dreams of a cool breeze sneaking in.
There was a house like that about a half a block from my home. Many times I had fantasized that the gorgeous, 30-something woman who lived there would be waiting at the door for me in stead of a summer wind gust. The closest I’d ever gotten to see her luscious body was one night when she was dressed in a flimsy, cotton house dress or shift and she was just opening the door as I went past. I slowed as the silhouette from the back lighting provided me what looked like a nude shape to fuel my imagination for later.
I knew I would definitely be pulling my tool in the bathroom over this one. That, too, had become part of my nightly routine. What can I say about my wife? She’s a great mother. My house is always clean. She’s a petite woman, so her pussy was always tight on those rare instances when she wasn’t too tired to roll over for me. Even then, she was too uptight for either of us to truly enjoy lovemaking. But those days were better than jacking off.
Something happened one night on the way home and it made me forget my concerns of being seen while glancing or being married.
Just as I neared her house, the silhouette lady was walking into her living room. She had a bottle and a glass in her hand as she parked herself on the sofa in front of the TV. I stopped in my tracks because the worn-out cotton housecoat she had on was completely unbuttoned. She sat on the left end of the sofa near the open door.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Instinctively I grabbed my dick. In an instant it was like a rail, throbbing in sync with my quickening pulse.
As she flopped gap-legged onto the couch, her shift covered the nipple and half of one of her firm, C-sized tits. I assumed that it looked just like the exposed one whose bud poked out like a ripe raspberry.
Judging by the position of her slender legs, I figured she was around 5-foot-7 or so. I could make out relaxed muscle definition in her milky thighs, right up to the juiciest looking pussy I’d ever see. She leaned forward and poured from the bottle. I was standing under the cover of a large tree in front of her house. I slowly moved closer to her door, quickly and nervously glancing around the area to make sure I, too, wasn’t being watched.
I could see the bottle now – Yukon Jack. She downed the first shot and poured another as she sat back with the glass in her hand. I could only see her from the neck down. The door blocked her face from my view. She absently slid one foot onto the cushion while her empty hand fell lazily onto her bare thigh.
Her fingers were within a cum-drop of her thick pussy lips and the triangle of dark blonde hair atop them.
I don’t remember when I pulled my dick out and moved so close to her screen door that the end of my eight inches nearly touched the metal. I slowly massaged my thickness, partly because it felt good and I needed to control it from knocking on her door.
I noticed a marking on her left ankle, he one closest to me, propped close to her butt. I focused in on the mark and read the tattoo. It said, “Leasa.”
My new wet dream had a name. My dick twitched in my fingers. Leasa. I had seen her coming and going, wearing a white uniform. I wondered whether she was a nurse or something.
I was squeezing and stroking myself ever so slowly now. I was afraid to breathe or move too fast for fear that I’d give away my position.
I looked around again. There were streetlights at each end of the block. But their light could not penetrate the thick foliage that shielded me.
I looked back at Leasa just in time to see her gently stroking her outer pussy lips. She turned out the lamp beside her. Her pale skin seemed to glow under the flickering blue light of the TV. I couldn’t see the set, but it sounded like an old movie was playing.
I had to stop moving my hand or I was going to blow like a busted fire hose. I just held myself and watched. Her hand momentarily went toward her head, hidden behind the door, and returned to her pussy. One finger, followed by a second, went inside up to the first knuckles.
She just held them there. We both stood still with time before she moved again. I thought she was adjusting her seat, but she did it again, hunching her hips forward and enveloping more her knuckles. Her fingers were glistening under the TV lighting as she gradually fell into an in-out rhythm.
I had to do something or I was going to barge through her door and give her a mighty, one-stroke fucking, cumming before she could even yell.
Leasa’s fingers had picked up speed. Her butt was lifted off the cushions. I heard a muffled yelp and my heart stopped. Then I heard her sigh. Her thighs clamped around her hand and she settled back in her seat. Just like that, it was over for her.
I slowly backed away from her door, dick in hand. When I was safely past the corner of her house, I turned and walked briskly towards home, desperately stuffing my throbbing peter in my pants. I could hardly wait until I reached the intimacy of my bathroom and a handful of toilet paper.
