Catty Corner

As the final act of his performance proceeded, I reinvigorated my own manipulations of my clitoris, occasionally harvesting some lubrication that seeped from my cunt. The aroma of the evaporating juices filled my nostrils with the zesty fragrance. As his spurting orgasm finally subsided, mine kicked into high gear, and I let my spine arch, splaying my crotch wider, thrusting it forwards. This pushed the back of my hand against the glass, propelling my finger even harder against my clitoris than I could with just the tired muscles of my hand. My other hand let go from spreading my outer lips, and I seized one of my heaving breast in that hand, palpating the hot swollen flesh in my palm, tweaking my nipple with my fingertips.

Of course, all of this was just what the doctor ordered, for it only took a few seconds before my own climax began to wash over me. I had been close for so very long, and I had teased it out while I watched the stranger finish off his orgasm. But now it was definitely my turn to complete my celebration. My finger strummed hard over my clitoris, so fast that it must have been perceived as a hummingbird-wing blur to the man. I grunted and groaned as the first waves of ecstasy pulsed through me like electric shocks, and then wave after wave followed. My head was tipped back so that I could see only the ceiling, but I'm sure that the show I was putting on for the old man was incredibly titillating. I could feel my juices spreading onto the back of my hand, smearing on the glass just as he had smeared his thick come onto his window.

Eventually, the energetic stimulation of my finger was too much, and when I pulled my finger away and up to my other breast, I found that I could just barely push my cunt forwards enough so that it made direct contact with the glass, I wobbled my hips around so that I was squashing my cunt lips against the cold sheet of glass, splaying the pulpy flesh and spreading the clear secretions.

Finally, my legs and libido gave out. Looking behind me, I saw an armchair close by, so I let my knees buckle and collapsed into the comfortable embrace of the cushy upholstery. As I did so, I hadn't a moment to relax before I heard the phone ringing. What the Hell, I thought, and I looked over at the clock on the side table. It was after 4:00 in the morning! Who could be calling me now, of all times. But I reached over and picked it up.

"My name is Charlie, and I wanted you to know that you were absolutely spectacular. I shall relish the memory of our mutual masturbation forever. Thank you so much. I don' want to bother you in any way at all, but if you want to talk-or whatever-call me back. I'm sure you know my room number, Bye." And with that he was off the phone. I hadn't had a chance to speak at all. I looked through my window towards his room, but the curtain was now closed. The room number was right there in large gold numbers on the face of his door.

Do you think that I called him? If so, what happened next? I hope you use your imagination and figure it out!