Washing Bottles and Cans Topless

"You have an amazing body," I said gushing over how pretty she was close up.

I couldn't believe I said that. It just fell out of my mouth, in the way my cock slipped out of my bathrobe, when I had my foot on her stoop. I just admitted to her again that I saw her naked.

"Really? Do you think so? Thank you," she said with a big smile letting go of my hand, while leaning forward in her chair and opening up her bathrobe enough to run her hand inside and across her breasts and enough for me to see the top of her breasts. "Tell me, I'm curious. Which part of my body to you like? Are you a breast man or an ass man?"

"Uhm...I...I."

Oh, God. I was sweating. I couldn't even form the words to answer her. If I was dreaming this conversation, I'd be so cool and calm, instead I was a nervous wreck.

I couldn't believe we were having this conversation. Am I dreaming? Having just met her, this conversation was so hot. If I was dreaming about her, fantasizing about her, I'd never imagined having this hot of a conversation with her. So very surreal, this verbal exchange was so erotically sexual.

She knew I had been watching her, no doubt. Yet, I couldn't tell if she was excited or mad. Having just met her, unable to read her, I wasn't sure what to say. Was she trying to entrap me? I was in enough trouble as it was for peeping at her. Was she recording and videotaping this conversation to use against me in a court of law later as evidence in a criminal case or a civil suit? I looked around her kitchen for clues, a hidden camera or a microphone.

"I don't mind you watching me, Michael," she said. "To be honest, I like it when a man admires me in a sexual way. It arouses me to know that I have an admiring audience. If I knew how to ride a horse, I'd be the neighborhood Lady Godiva. I love exposing my naked body to someone, who enjoys seeing me naked. Do you enjoy seeing me naked, Michael?"

Are you kidding me? Who is this woman? Definitely, she's not from around here. She's so erotically sexual. Maybe she's from France. Maybe she's a writer of erotica. Maybe she once worked as a nude artist's model. Yeah, that must be it. Or (gulp) maybe she's a stripper. Oh, my God, I have a hot stripper from France, who writes erotica, and who used to work as a nude artist's model living next door to me and walking around her apartment naked with the light on and without any curtains on the windows. I felt as if I just won the lottery, only she was so much better than winning a million dollars.

"Oh, God, yes," I said. "Are you kidding me? I love seeing you naked and I hope and pray that you never buy a dishwasher or curtains," I said with a laugh.

I couldn't believe I said that. Open mouth and insert foot. I was in deep trouble now.

"Thank you, Michael. I promise not to buy either. Only, tell me and be honest," she said standing. "Which do you prefer? Do you like my tits or my ass? Are you a breast man or an ass man?"

"Your tits. Definitely your tits," I said staring at the big impressions her tits made in her bathrobe. "You have amazing breasts," I said now staring at the impressions her nipples made in her bathrobe. "But your ass is phenomenal, too," I said staring at the shape of her ass in her bathrobe, when she turned partially around and bent over to show me her bathrobe clad, round ass.

"So, you're a breast man," she said opening her bathrobe enough for me to see most of her tits.

Oh, my God. Suddenly, my cock stiffened and I so wanted to reach down and start fingering myself, before stroking myself.

"Yes," I said breathlessly.

Suddenly, I stopped blinking. Something that I could never do, when I was boxing, I was doing now, staring at her exposed tits without blinking. I didn't want to miss a thing.

"Tell me and, again, be honest, please, Michael" she said slowly running her hand across her breast and stopping at her nipple and fingering it. "I want to know, I need to know, do you play with yourself, while watching me standing at the kitchen sink naked washing and rinsing recyclables for Earth Day?" She looked down at my crotch, where my cock was tenting my bathrobe. "Do you stroke your big, hard prick over the naked sight of me?"

Definitely, this conversation wasn't being taped or recorded because she just crossed the line. She'd never talk like that, exposing herself literally and figuratively, to entrap me to answer with the questions she just asked me, if she was recording this conversation. If I'm guilty of peeping, then she's just as guilty in exposing herself to me and in now trying to seduce me. Only, she needn't try so hard. I was already there. My cock was already engorged with blood and rock hard. All she needed to say was...fuck me, Michael.

"Gees, Michelle, I--"

"Tell me. Do you touch yourself?"

"Do I touch myself?"

Should I tell her that I masturbate over the naked sight of her every night and think of her being naked every day, all day? She opened her bathrobe just enough for her to fit her hand and I watched her hand, when she slowly moved her hand down her body to cup and finger her pussy. I watched her finger disappear inside of her. She closed her eyes and put her head back and spoke, as if she was possessed.

"When you watch me standing naked at the kitchen sink, do you stroke your cock, while imagining touching me, feeling me, licking me, and having hot sex with me? Have you ejaculated over the naked sight of me? Have you imagined me touching you, stroking you, fucking you, and blowing you?"

Oh, my God. This is just too much. This is surreal. I never knew being so concerned about the ecology and the environment, while celebrating Earth Day, could be so revealingly rewarding. Had I known that before, I would have collected bottles and cans years ago. Is it too late to become an environmentalist, a conservationist, and a nudist?

"Yes, oh, God, yes. Yes! Yes! Yes! I've masturbated over the naked sight of you and yes I've ejaculated over the naked sight of you over and again, while imagining touching you, feeling you, and having sex with you, as you stroked me, fucked me, and blew me."

"Show me," she said staring down at the impression my erect cock made in my bathrobe. "I want to see."

"Show you? Show you what? What do you mean, show you? What do you want to see?"

"Masturbate for me, Michael. I want to watch you stroke your cock. I love watching a man play with himself. I'm as much of a voyeur as I am an exhibitionist, you know," she said removing her bathrobe. She was naked, now. Just as I had fantasized, I was in her kitchen, while she was naked, my fantasy has come true. "Go ahead. I'll stand by the sink pretending that I'm rinsing recyclables, while you masturbate for me, Michael."

Fuck me. Are you kidding me? My new neighbor is my dream woman. I couldn't believe Michelle, my sexy, new neighbor was naked in her kitchen and in front of me, after asking me and while waiting for me to masturbate for her. I just couldn't wrap my mind around that she was naked. I couldn't believe that she wants to watch me masturbate.

As if this were all a dream, as if I was having a sexual fantasy, I stood and removed my bathrobe and slowly started stroking myself. I already had an erection. Never having masturbated in front of a woman before, I couldn't believe I was masturbating in front of a woman I had just met now. As soon as I started stroking myself, she turned around to watch me. I wanted to cum. I needed to cum. Faster and faster I stroked myself, then, when I was ready to cum, she walked over to me.

"Wait," she said kneeling down in front of me "Don't cum, yet," she said looking up at me with her pretty face and those big, blue eyes. "Tell me when you're ready to cum and when you're ready, I want you to cum all over my face, in my mouth, and on my tits," she said leaning closer to my cock and opening her mouth wide. "I like it when a man cums all over me. It's such a big turn on for me to feel his excitement for me all over my naked body."

Oh, Christ. She just gets better. First she loves watching a man masturbate and now she likes when a man cums all over her, meaning that men have done that to her before. As soon as she said that, I exploded in her mouth, all over her face, in her hair, and across her tits. I so wanted to put a hand to the back of her head and shoot all of my load in her mouth, but this was her game and I didn't want to ruin my chance of playing this sexy game again.

I watched her rub my cum into her skin and then lick me off her fingers. Oh, my God, this woman is so frigging sexy. Never could I have even imagined such a sexy scenario. In the game of voyeurism, exhibitionism, and erotica, this woman was way ahead of me. She could teach me things and I was so ready to learn.

Every night we played her sexy game. She rinsed recyclables, while I masturbated, before we went to her bedroom and made love. We were married within six months. Who knew recycling could be so life altering? Who knew Earth Day could be so exciting. For those who don't recycle, shame on you.

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