Putting On A Show

‘This is it. I’m going to do it!’

‘No!’ I thought, shaking my head. ‘I’m not going to do it. I’m doing it.’

As I reached into my room for the light switch, I thought back to that fateful Friday night about a month ago.

I remembered that I’d come home by taxi at about 11:00 after a really boring office function at which I’d had a few too many.

I remember stumbling into my bedroom without turning on any lights in my apartment, as I planned to just collapse into my bed and sleep it off. Upon entering my bedroom, I recall catching a glimpse of the newly built apartment building across the street through the window, a sight that abruptly halted me. A good-looking man was walking around in what appeared to be a bedroom dressed only in a pair of bright red Jockey shorts.

I remembered looking guiltily around as I made my way through the bedroom to close the curtains and thinking, ‘I’m alone. My light’s off. He can’t see me. In fact, no one can see me.’

The good side of my conscience told me, ‘You shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not right to spy on someone.’

While I also remembered, with a smile, that the bad side of my conscience argued, ‘You didn’t plan to spy on him. It’s just a chance thing. Besides which, what’s the harm? He’s not dressed any differently than he would be on the beach or by a pool.’

I remember standing by the window for a couple of minutes admiring his body.

I then remembered my shock as he’d stopped by the edge of the bed and, after hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, he had lowered them to stand naked.

I continued to watch as he then walked over and put his shorts into the hamper in the corner of his room.

I remember marveling at the way his penis had moved from side to side as he’d walked around his room before he’d climbed into bed and turned off his light.

Without turning on my light, I remember stripping off my clothes, climbing into bed, and falling asleep with visions of his jiggling cock in my mind.

As I stood just outside my bedroom door with my hand on the light switch, I remembered that I’d woken the next morning with my pajamas clinging to my sweaty body along with my damp, tangled hair amidst sheets that were all twisted.

I remember that, while I’d lain in bed contemplating my state, I had guiltily glanced across at the apartment where I’d seen him the night before and wondered, ‘Did I really see what I think I saw? Did I really see a naked guy last night?’

I remember shaking my head and thinking, ‘No. It couldn’t have been. It must have been another one of those dreams.’

All that Saturday, I remember how I’d glanced at the building across the way, trying to confirm that I’d really seen what I thought I’d seen. I remember thinking, as it became later and later, ‘I must have been dreaming. I didn’t really see a naked guy last night.’

I remember seeing a light going on in the apartment just after the late news had started. I remember thinking when I’d seen him walk about his living room, ‘It’s him. It’s the same guy as last night. I didn’t dream about him.’

I remember moving over to and sitting on the couch in stunned silence as my eyes followed him around his apartment, as he’d gone into his bedroom, and as he stripped off his clothes.

I remembered my shock as I’d seen him, after turning on his television and lying down on his bed, start to fondle his penis. I remember trying to understand what he was doing and thinking as it dawned on me, ‘Oh my God. He’s going to play with himself. He’s going to masturbate!’

I smiled as I remembered thinking the entire time as I leaned forward to get a better look, ‘I shouldn’t watch this. I can’t watch this.’

I also remember thinking in awe as I watched his hand move up and down his cock until his hips bucked as semen shot out of his penis, ‘Jesus. He came. He had an orgasm.’

I remembered, as guilt set in, blushing as I thought, ‘I shouldn’t have watched him do that. I invaded his privacy.’

My smile grew as I remembered that, over the past month, I’d overcome my guilt as I’d watched him almost every night. After the first few nights, I’d even bought a pair of binoculars so I could get an even better view. I’d gotten to know his body from the little scar on his right shoulder to the dimples on his ass and the colic in the back of his hair. I’d also gotten to know his habits from how he brushed his teeth, how he pissed, and that he masturbated at least every second day.

I’d come home tonight after another boring office event where I’d been hit upon by four of the office nerds – Gerry, Jack, Graham, and Frank. All of them, except for Jack, had accepted my brush-off gracefully and moved on.

Jack, on the other hand, had had too much to drink and wasn’t put off. He’d put his left arm around my shoulders and had tried to cajole me into coming back to his apartment for further discussions about the deal I was working on.

He’d talked to me for almost twenty minutes, getting bolder and bolder with the way his body had touched me, moving from hip to hip, thigh to thigh, and, finally, the side of his chest to the side of my right breast.

I’d taken it all submissively until, as he’d reached past me with his right hand to get a beer on the shelf behind me, he’d let the backs of his fingers caress both my boobs.

As I’d turned towards him to ask him to stop bothering me, he’d not only ended up with both arms around my neck, but he’d also moved his right leg between my legs and ground his thigh against my crotch.

After I’d recovered from my surprise, I found him blatantly staring down at my chest with a leer on his face.

As he started to say, “I thought you’d like the..." I surprised myself as I stomped on his right foot and snarled, “Back off, you bastard.”

He looked at me with both surprise and pain as he got the message and left me alone.

As he walked away, though, he’d passed the comment, “Frigid bitch. Lighten up.”

Usually meek and shy, I surprised myself and a few of my coworkers who’d overheard the exchange with my reaction.

As they’d congratulated me, I had said, “I don’t know what got into me. I don’t usually lash out like that. It must have been the booze.”

Even though my coworkers had assured me that he’d had it coming, I felt embarrassed by my reaction. It wasn’t so much my actions towards Jack but the effect that his touching had had on me. When he’d brushed my boobs, both my nipples had sprung to attention, and when he’d ground his thigh into my crotch, I’d felt a jolt of lightning lance into the core of my body.

As I’d moved around afterwards, I had a sticky feeling in my crotch.

Unsure what it was, I’d gone to the bathroom and found my vaginal lips puffy, extended, and a clear fluid oozing out from between them. Each time I’d wiped myself to try and clean up the fluid, my body twitched until I’d had to stop because my vagina was just too sensitive. Ashamed of the way my body had reacted and sure that everyone who looked at me knew what I’d just done, I left shortly afterwards.

Entering my apartment, without turning on my lights as had become my habit, I looked across at his place and saw him sitting on his chair, facing my building, and talking on the phone.

Looking at my watch, I thought, ‘10:30. It’ll be another thirty minutes to an hour before he goes to bed. With all I’ve had to drink tonight, can I stay awake that long?’

As I was watching him, I felt my mind drift, and the visions I’d been having for the past few weeks returned. They were visions of myself in crude, passionate embraces, hands pawing me, male organs penetrating me, using me, and pleasuring me.

I shook my head, trying to fight free of the visions, trying desperately to ignore the heat in my cunt, the swelling of my breasts, and the hardness of my pink nipples as I thought, ‘God, Jack was annoying, but he certainly affected me. I need another beer to calm me down.’

I returned, and sitting on my chair, I continued to watch him as I sipped my beer.

I found myself fidgeting as I waited. I was crossing and recrossing her legs, changing places on the chair, and constantly taking sips of beer.

In no time I finished the beer and found myself opening another. As I made my way back to the chair, I thought, ‘I wonder if he’d like to see me naked?’

Sitting back down on the chair, my good conscience whispered, ‘No way. I couldn’t strip for him.’ My bad conscience immediately countered in a loud voice with, ‘Why wouldn’t he want to see me naked? He looks like a healthy male, and they’re always trying to take peeks. Besides which, I’ve been watching him for the last month. His shows shouldn’t go unrewarded.’

The more I sat watching him, the more I convinced myself that I should do it.

I put the empty beer bottle on my bedside table as I slowly pulled back my curtains to provide him with the maximum view possible. I walked around my room in the dark, taking stock of where he’d be able to see me.

After I’d figured out my routine, I left the room and stood outside.

Reaching for the light switch to start the show, I thought, as I noticed my hand was shaking, ‘I need another beer to calm down.’

I got the beer and, as I took a long swig, thought, ‘You’re just procrastinating, Jane. Get on with it.’

I left the unfinished beer on the kitchen counter and walked back towards my room.

At the doorway, I peeked in and looked across. He was still talking on the phone.

‘This is it. I’m going to do it,’ I thought.

‘No!’ I thought, shaking her head, ‘I’m not going to do it, I’m doing it.’

Reaching into my room, I flicked on the light and walked in.

Walking over to the dresser, I felt my heart pounding.

I took off my watch and glanced over at his building to see if he’d seen me.

Seeing no evidence that he had, I stretched my arms over my head and did a couple of twists as I thought, ‘If this doesn’t work, how am I going to get his attention?’

Lowering my arms, I thought, ‘Maybe I’m going to have to get down to my underwear for him to take notice. That’s how I took notice of him the first time.’

Facing the window, I slowly unbuttoned the front of my blouse and removed it. Seeing that I still didn’t have his attention, I turned and, walking back to my closet, hung it up.

Turning back to face the window, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and thought, ‘My God, what a coincidence. I’m wearing red underwear just like he was the first time I saw him.’

I then undid the button at the top of my slacks and, after pulling down the zipper, slowly slid them over my hips and down my legs. As I straightened up, I saw that I still didn’t have his attention, so I turned and hung the slacks in the closet.

Somewhat frustrated, I walked around my bedroom in my bra and panties, picking up and straightening things.

Still not having any indication that he’d noticed me, I stood for a second, trying to think of what else I could do.

I noticed my bedspread and thought, ‘I can take it off and wave it around. If waving a large white flag while dressed in a bright red bra and panties doesn’t get his attention, nothing will, and I’ll give up.’

Making sure I was still visible, I pulled the bedspread off the top of the bed and started waving it around while I folded it.

After a few seconds, I noticed that he was standing at his window and thought excitedly, ‘I got his attention. He’s looking at me.’

As I placed the folded bedspread on my dresser, I thought nervously, 'God, do I want to do this? Do I want to strip in front of this guy I don’t really know?’

I took a deep breath and thought, ‘I’ve started down this road. I can’t chicken out now,’ as I reached behind to undo the clasp of my bra.

After fumbling with the clasp a couple of times, it finally came undone, and I shrugged it off my shoulders and stood, facing the window with my breasts exposed to him. I then walked over to my hamper in the corner of the room by the drapes and put it in.

Walking around my room topless for a couple of minutes, I pretended to tidy up.

Stopping in front of my dresser, I glanced over at his building, using the reflection in the mirror to see if he was still watching.

Seeing that he still was, I thought, ‘My God. What am I doing? Do I stop here, or do I go all the way?’

As I reached across my body to straighten a picture that was stuck in the side of the mirror, my forearm brushed my nipple, and a shot of electricity flowed to the core of my being.

‘There’s my answer,’ I thought as I turned back to face the window, feeling slightly faint from the heat in my loins, the swelling of my breasts, and the hardness of my nipples.

I ran my hands over my breasts as I remembered seeing women do in the porno flicks I’d seen as a teenager.

As my fingers touched my nipples, I felt little jolts shooting into my lower stomach.

Not able to stop myself, I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my panties and slid them off.

I straightened up and, with my legs spread slightly, stood fully exposed to him as I tossed my panties in the hamper.

I then ran my right hand through my pubic hair to fluff it after it had been crushed all day under my panties.

The sensation of my hand and the hairs standing up caused my whole pubic area to tingle. I closed my eyes as I sighed, and I leaned against the dresser.

Unconsciously, my left hand began to cup and caress my breasts while my right hand continued to massage the soft, pulpy mound between my legs.

I rubbed a finger up and down my slit, pressing against my clit as I leaned back against the dresser.

My legs eased further and further apart as my finger rubbed harder, digging in between my cunt lips and mashing down against my sensitive clitoris. My head rolled from side to side, and my ass was bouncing against the dresser as I humped forward against my finger.

A low groan escaped my lips, interrupting my panting and hissing breath.

"Oh God!" I moaned, my legs spreading further apart as I finger-fucked myself.

I felt the heat rising within me, pulsing up through my body from the furnace between my legs. Stroking my hands across it, I felt the slickness of my body.

My right hand slid back down my belly, then between parted thighs, and I dipped a finger into my swollen cunt. I rubbed two fingers up and down my slit, sawing them between my wet, pulpy cunt lips. My ass humped forward again as I slid the two fingers into the knuckles, then ground my knuckles against my clit.

My mind was screaming at me, warning of the danger, ‘What are you doing? What are you doing?! Are you mad?’

I couldn't stop myself. My cunt burned like an oven on high.

My fingers pumped in and out, grinding over my mashed clit on each pass. My free hand roved across my slick body, cupping and squeezing my breasts, caressing my belly, sliding behind to fondle my buttocks, then easing up through the strands of my hair as my back arched in pleasure.

My eyes were glazed, yet suddenly they focused. There on the bedside table, directly across from me, was the beer bottle I’d left earlier.

I groaned and shakily stumbled to the bedside table to grab the bottle. I sat down on the edge of the bed and pushed my butt against the sheets, causing them to bunch up into a slight backrest.

I raised my feet, placed them beside me, and then slowly eased the cock-like bottle into my cunt. I whimpered a little in pain, my cunt being unused to anything more than a finger, and even that seldom.

I forced more and more of the bottle up into my cunt, wincing a little but unable to repress a shudder of delight, either.

Almost the entire length of the bottle was up inside my cunt. I held onto the bottom with two fingers as I rubbed my clit with my other hand.

I slowly began to pump the bottle in and out of my cunt. It wasn't easy. The bottle fits like a cork in a bottle. I had to pull very hard to slide it back out of my body, despite how wet I was.

My breathing was coming in harsh little gasps and pants. I was finally able to work the bottle in and out with some speed.

I gave a little cry of pleasure and slid my left hand up my body, caressing my flesh as it followed the contours of my body and eased up over the full round hillock of my left breast.

My pussy was so hot I wondered why the half-buried bottle wasn't melting.

I pulled it a little way out, then thrust it back in.

I grunted in pained pleasure, my cunt spewing fire as an orgasm approached.

I kept pumping the bottle in and out of my cunt.

My body shuddered and trembled as my hips flew upward, and I was caught in an orgasmic hurricane, my body jerking, humping, and shaking on the bed.

Even if my parents, my grandparents, my brothers, my uncles, and half the office were to stare in shock, I couldn't have stopped the furious pumping motions of my hands as I soared through an incredibly powerful, prolonged orgasm.

Ferocious starbursts of white, yellow, and red burst before my eyes as my body convulsed in orgasmic pleasure. My cries, soft and almost inaudible before, were now quite audible in the quiet room. I didn't know or care who heard me as my orgasm consumed me.

Air puffed out between my lips, my cheeks bulging outward, and then another shocking bolt of pure, white-hot pleasure seared my body.

The orgasm gave my body another harsh shake and then spit the bottle out.

I slowly began to come down to earth. My mind began to coalesce into one piece, and my body stopped twitching and shaking.

‘Oh God!! What have I done?’ I thought as my bleary eyes focused after several attempts, and I looked over at his building and saw that he was still standing at his window. Only he had his cock in his hand and was hurriedly stroking it. As I lay there, unable to move, I watched his cum shoot out onto the window.

I shakily reached over and turned off the light before pulling back the sheets and climbing into bed.