"Window of Paradise"
The Widow Jane
The still night air was muggy, causing a sheen of sweat on her naked body as she lay on her bed. It had become a ritual in her lonely life. Lying naked on her bed sliding her favorite black vibrator in and out of her drenched, shaved cunt. If anyone knew they would wonder why she shaved it any more since no man had touched it in the five years since her last boyfriend left. "I'm sorry, Jane. I'm just not into the commitment thing." He had said as he was packing up. She had tried to give him enough reason to stay. She had joined him and his friends at swingers parties. She had let him watch as his friends fucked her on several occasions. She'd been available for him whenever he needed sex and she had secretly loved every minute of it, though she did not tell him that. But at fifty-five she needed some kind of commitment. She needed to know there was some kind of future. So she pressed him. And he left. And none of his friends ever came around or invited her anywhere either.
"Fuck 'em," she thought.
She had her fantasies and her toys. She kept sliding the shaft deeper and deeper till her hand was hitting the huge clit at the top of her slit on every stroke. Her first orgasm was often the best one. When it hit, she groaned aloud, unaware that she was being heard.
Lucas Brown stood quietly outside the open window. He had been there since she got in the shower because he was well aware of her ritual. He had first happened by Jane's house by accident. Just trying to be a good neighbor, the handsome twenty-five-year-old had come to ask if she needed any help with yard work or anything.. Luke and his father lived a few doors down the block. His mother died of an aneurism when he was twelve. Despite being a handsome athlete in school Luke had never really had a serious relationship with a girl. He guessed the bar had just been set too high. His mother was so special. He was canvassing the block one night to see if there were any summer jobs available helping the neighbors. Jane had not answered the door but her light was on. He had decided to go around to the back door to see if she might hear his knock. As he passed by the window on the side of the house he heard her. He stopped and looked around. The side of the house was shielded from the street by trees and there were shrubs near the window. No one would know, he thought. He crept behind the shrub and looked in carefully.
"God, she's beautiful," he thought.
As beautiful as his mother. That night she had been lying flat, naked and revealing. Her legs were spread open and he could see that she had shaven her pubic hair completely off. Her bald mound stood out provocatively, especially to the young inexperienced boy. He had watched her hands go to her center and move slowly over her bald flesh. His hand moved to his flesh too. It was intoxicating. He came in his pants, and then he felt bad and went home. He dreamt of her all night. A couple of days later he went back after dark and her light was on again. That was the first time he watched her with the vibrator. He watched it going in and out. He watched her float it over her clitoris. He saw her clitoris grow and stand out proudly from the glistening core of her sex. He came twice that night. And he had come back every night he could since then.
But this night she was different.
"Maybe she's had something to drink," he thought.
She was talking, as if she had company. Talking to an imaginary lover. She was moaning as she slid the shaft in and out. When she pulled it out she licked it clean before letting the tip dance over her clitoris, and she actually cried out "Yes. Suck it for me."
Luke imagined it was him sucking on her huge clitoris, making her moan sweet cries of passion. That she was thirty years older than him mattered not. It was the most erotic moment of his life up to that point. He had no idea it would pale to what else he would experience with this amazing woman. These nights continued for several weeks.
Then, one night, Jane heard him cough. She stopped. Her focus shifted and she thought she heard movement outside her window. Things she never was aware of in her arousal. Strangely, though, she was not scared, nor even angry. What was it she felt? My god, she realized. She was excited. She liked it, being watched. From that point on she began to be even more provocative, and more verbal. She found herself smiling, hoping she was turning her voyeur on as much as she was herself.
Weeks went by and Jane found ways to sneak peeks at the window. And finally one night, she looked at just the right moment. They were looking right in to one another's eyes. She never flinched. And neither did he. She kept her hand moving, the vibrator going in and out, the tip dancing on her clit. Aware that his eyes were taking in every movement. She drew her knees up and spread her legs as wide as she could get them, revealing her entire core to him. He was standing now, no longer hiding in the shadows of the shrub. He was standing boldly, filling her window with his face and his chest. She could tell the movements his hand made, that h
e was unashamedly stroking his own shaft. They came together looking straight into each other's eyes. It was electric. She might have been ashamed, or humiliated in front of someone else, but somehow she did not feel that with this young man. She might have felt violated, having been spied on, but it was a bit late for that as she had continued to play with herself weeks after she suspected that she was being watched. Instead she felt alive.
