Room With A View (Part 1)
I first saw you last Sunday.

The scene from my apartment has nothing to recommend it, except that it
looks directly into your rooms in the block adjoining mine. So far there had
been nothing much to see as your curtains are generally drawn and the most
I'd ever noticed before were brief glimpses of your silhouette in outline
against them. I certainly don't consider myself a voyeur or peeping tom, but
this did not stop me hoping eventually for a sight of something more
substantial. Those hopes were fleetingly, tantalisingly rewarded last
Sunday.

For the first time in a long while your curtains had not been drawn though
it was well after sunset. When from the corner of my eye I was aware of your
bedroom light suddenly going on, I rushed to peer through my lounge room
curtain. You must have just showered. The towel wrapped around your body
reached from your breasts to the middle of your thighs, but water still
glistened on your shoulders as you entered the room and your hair was
hanging free, wild and wet as it lay across your shoulders. You walked to
the window and reached to draw the curtain, but paused for a moment to look
out. Rapidly I pulled back from my window, hoping desperately you hadn't
noticed me staring at you. I peered cautiously back over the sill just as
you closed the curtains. Was it my imagination, or was there the trace of a
knowing smile on your lips as you removed yourself from my devouring,
enraptured eyes?

I was besotted with the hope of seeing more, inflamed by the actions of my
imagination into picturing what was going on behind the flimsy but
impenetrable barrier that kept you from my sight. Every evening on arriving
home I made sure to check my view of your rooms before even turning on a
light, for fear of alerting you to my presence. After ten days of
frustration, tonight I received my reward.

Again your bedroom curtains were opened, but I thought little of it as your
whole flat was dark and clearly you were out. I was about to turn away,
resigned to another evening of impatient disappointment, when your hall
light went on. My heart leapt as you entered the bedroom. Still in your work
clothes, your elegantly tailored suit in dramatic contrast to my previous
sight of you, you paused briefly to drop your valise on the bed and slip off
your shoes. I desperately tried to drink it all in, to savour every second
before you were once again lost to me. As you reached to close off my view I
felt the familiar surge of disappointment followed immediately by profound
elation at the realisation that, in your hurry or tiredness, you hadn't
pulled the curtains completely shut. You had left a small but significant
gap which, from where I was at present, allowed me to see you turn to open
your wardrobe. You removed and neatly put away your suit jacket and skirt.
You turned again to face me, languidly peeling off your blouse and casually
dropping it to the floor, then for a few brief seconds you lingered there in
your white bra and panties.

Just as suddenly you were gone, moving off to my left. From the position of
your shadow on the curtain I guessed you were now seated at a dressing
table. I rushed from my lounge room, hoping against hope that from the far
right of my bedroom window the angle would be such that I could once again
get a view of you. My cock surged when I parted the curtain and saw you, my
view now obliquely over your left shoulder, sitting at the table as I
suspected, removing your makeup. I hoped it would take a long time, to allow
me to savour you fully.

Your legs were splayed slightly astride the chair as you peered at the
make-up mirror, dabbing at your face with cotton balls and a cloth. You
seemed absorbed by the intensity of your concentration.

Just as suddenly you were done, stretching your arms above your head to let
the tension of the day drain from your body, then reaching back to release
your hair, which unlike Sunday had until then been tied back in a loose
ponytail. As it cascaded around and over your shoulders as you shook it free
I tried to soak in every detail of your extravagantly feminine, lithe body.
Your skin was golden brown, with an all-over tan which showed you got a lot
of sun. You also must get regular exercise because your muscles were sharply
defined and there did not appear to be an ounce of excess fat. I gazed in
wonder at the arch of your spine, wishing I was stroking my way down that
sublime curve to the small of your back. From there I could run my hands
over the pert globes of your tush, move up to savour the sweet convexity of
your waist, and then....

My reverie was interrupted as you paused for a moment, again peering
intently at the mirror. I was sure you were about to get up and leave. You
need only move a foot to the right and you would be lost to me again, when
to my profound delight you instead placed your hands deliberately on your
waist and slid them both slowly up and across your stomach - exactly as I
had imagined myself doing ten seconds ago. Now you were reaching up to cup
your breasts, one in each hand. My view was obscured, but it wasn't hard to
tell that you were palping and caressing them, slowly and deliberately,
through the fabric of your bra. Your back began to arch gently up and down,
in rhythm with your hands. Next your head joined in, swaying slowly both up
and down and from side to side, as though responding to some enchanted music
which only you could hear. I thought my prick would burst, it was now so
hard. This was beyond anything I had ever hoped to see, and I rapidly ripped
off my trousers to free it. With one hand I slowly stroked myself in
response to your rhythms, yet careful not to apply too much pressure. I had
waited so diligently for this, I was going to ensure I made it last.

You now reached back, still arching up and down on your chair to keep
pressure on your clit which must be responding as enthusiastically as I to
the stimulation of your nipples, and released your bra. When it dropped out
of sight I saw I was correct in assuming that you were a sun-lover, as your
tan extended without a discernible break to include all your upper body. I
could see the profile of your left breast, swinging free and full, and even
at this distance could tell the nipple was standing firm and erect.

Briefly you paused to reach out of view, returning with a small bottle. As I
watched you cupped your left breast in your left hand and with the bottle in
your right carefully permitted a few drops of oil to fall onto your upper
breast. At first, gravity languidly worked the unguent across the top of
your skin, letting it slowly surround your nipple. After repeating the
action out of my view on your right-hand side, your returned to work the oil
on and around each nipple, tweaking them slowly and deliberately, gazing
intently at yourself in the mirror as you did so, then switching to squeeze
both breasts tightly together, rubbing them and writhing up and down as the
tempo of your responses quickened.

By now I was as desperate as you appeared to be. All I could think of were
those oiled breasts with their erect, slippery nipples. If only I was
astride you I could hold them together as I thrust my cock in and out of the
gap between them, held as tightly and as smoothly as if I were ramming into
your cunt. I looked down at my circumcised tool, its head now engorged and
almost purple in colour, and increased the rate of stroking until I could
take no more. I threw back my head as I came, the cum spurting out violently
across the room, wishing instead that it was spraying across your upper
body.

As soon as I had recovered enough to re-focus my attentions I saw that you
had not been idle either. Your chair was now rotated and was facing directly
towards me, its back supported by the table so there was no danger of you
toppling over if you rocked backed too vigorously. Your administrations had
now turned as I knew they must from your nipples to your clit, freed now
from your panties. With your legs spread I could see the vivid, juicy pink
of your inflamed cunt lips nestled within your luxuriant bush as you
continued massaging yourself, eyes closed and with a gentle smile playing
across your lips. You continued rocking back and forth, your breasts
standing free now and responding in kind.

As I watched, my currently sated cock dangling before me, I revelled in the
sublime beauty of a female body approaching ecstasy. You slipped first one,
then two fingers into your now dripping cunt, no doubt applying exactly the
right pressure to exactly the right spot. I longed to be kneeling
submissively before you, burying my face into your mons, savouring the
juices redolent of your sex and probing you with my tongue. I wanted to lap
gently yet insistently at your engorged, sensitive clit and responding to
your needs - to share with you the sublime pleasure you had just given me.

Yet I also felt privileged just to watch you, separate from yet in a sense
participating in your desire. My cock was rising again. This time I settled
on my bed and as I stroked myself with my right hand slipped a finger from
my left gently yet firmly into my ass, slowly increasing the tempo of my
strokes as I saw you increasing yours. By now your right hand was lodged
deeply in your cunt, while your left had returned to your left breast which
you had raised as far as possible towards your mouth. With your tongue you
could just flick the nipple, and the resultant stimulation clearly was
driving you over the top. You were rocking up and down so hard I was afraid
for a moment that you must damage your right hand. The tenseness enveloping
your body as you approached orgasm was evident in the look of desperation in
your face and the tight, drawn line of your mouth. Yet you must also have
known you were about to be released, desperate to come yet also frantically
revelling in the higher plane of pleasure you had now attained and were
unwilling to abandon.

Suddenly, your head was thrown backwards and you released your breast. You
were screaming out - soundlessly for me of course, yet as excitingly and
clearly as if you were beside me - as you thrust your body down onto the
fingers engaging your clit, at the same time clamping your legs tight with
all the strength you could muster as you rode the orgasm rocking your whole
body. The stimulation, both visual and physical, was too much for me and I
came soon after, more gently than before yet just as deliciously.

For several seconds you remained motionless, your head still thrown back, as
though you did not want to move and break the spell which had enveloped you.
An aftershock of the first orgasm rippled through your body, bringing you
back reluctantly to the present. After gently removing your right hand from
its current lodgement, you gingerly rose from the seat, still a little
shaken by the force with which you came.

You returned the chair to its usual position, then turned to leave. As you
rose you noticed the gap you had left in the curtain. When you peered
through it, your face glowing with the sensuality and satiation of a
post-orgasmic woman, I felt for a split-second as though you were looking
straight at me. It was impossible of course. With the light behind you my
bedroom window would have been an impenetrable pitch black and yet I flushed
with embarrassment at the thought of being discovered.

Surely it was just my imagination that you gave the merest of waves as you
finally pulled the curtain completely shut.