A Need to Be Seen

Morgan lay naked on her bed squirming with pleasure, her fingers dancing over her clit, a toy vibrating wonderfully inside her delighted pussy. Writhing in wanton delight, the young woman was elated, three men were staring through her window, watching her masturbate. Pretending she didn't know she was being observed, Morgan exposed as much of her nudity as possible to the men watching from next door.

Aroused beyond anything she had even thought possible, Morgan reached climax repeatedly as she joyfully exhibited herself. As her left hand worked the vibrator in and out, her right roamed over her wriggling body, touching here and there, teasing and prolonging her pleasure.

Thrilled to have an audience, Morgan fucked herself with the toy. Compelled to show the depth of her passion, Morgan's lust required she display herself to those strangers. The gratification she took from being seen, to having witnesses to her debauchery, was too keen to deny.

For the last week, Morgan had been performing these peep shows for the construction workers erecting a new building next door. Morgan had been giving them glimpses of herself in underwear, or quick flashes of her breasts, harmless, but naughty stuff that got her hot.

This performance was far beyond anything she had dared before, and the thrill of shattering taboo was making her cum powerfully. Pressing her feet to the bed, she lifted her hips and spread her thighs, driving the long, smooth vibrator deep inside her pulsing sex. Knowing full well that the men would get an unobstructed view of her recently shaved pussy made it even more satisfying. With one hand, she returned to rubbing her little button furiously while moving the vibrating tool in and out of her slippery slit.

The burning ache in her clit impelled her to rub quicker and work the dildo faster. The pressure of the vibrating invader driving deep inside felt wonderful, the friction of it moving over her slick insides was delectable. Keen, agonizing bliss shot outward along her body from her clitoris, driving her wild.

Peeking at the men watching her do these lewd things to herself made everything more erotically charged. Deep in the throes of her ecstasy, Morgan slitted her eyes, looking down her straining body, past her window and into the lot next door where another man had joined the group watching her make a spectacle of herself.

Not twenty five feet from her perverted performance, four men stood gaping at her. Incredibly, the addition of another viewer increased the power of her orgasm. Wriggling her hips with relish, grinding the vibrating tool even deeper inside, Morgan whimpered weakly, meek in the grip of her merciless lust. Coerced by ecstasy to behave in a way she was deeply ashamed of, the normally shy and sheltered young woman was thrilled by the way the men were staring so intently at her.

It was an act of rebellion as much as an act of liberation to expose herself doing such an intimate act. The fear of discovery and the need to be seen mingled inexorably together. In spite of the taboo of it, Morgan was inflamed by revealing her body to those construction workers. The forbidden nature of masturbating for onlookers enhanced the wickedness of her behaviour. Another orgasm had her now, urging her on and there was no turning back.

Thoughts left her as physical ecstasy swamped all else. Unable to keep her eyes open, Morgan shut out the wonderful view of men's faces and fell down into an inner kaleidoscopic landscape of perverted images gathered over eighteen years of existence.

As her body tumbled through waves of euphoria, Morgan's brain spewed forth erotic thoughts and ideas, demanding she gaze into the most depraved concepts she could conceive of. In her mind those men weren't over on the next building, they were right here around her bed, jacking off while looking at her.

In her fantasy world, a realm of carnal depravity, Morgan was the supreme object of lust and these men were helpless to refrain from touching themselves at the mere sight of her nudity. As bliss ignited every nerve in her body, Morgan fantasized about the men exploding with orgasms at witnessing her rapture.

The reality of actually being watched blurred the edges of her fantasy and Morgan opened her eyes to see five men were now gazing at her. Once more, her eyes clenched as a detonation of pure ecstasy expanded along her nervous system and ignited another, even more mighty, climactic wave.

One pleasure- seeing actual men watch her sordid conduct- multiplied the other, the fantasy scene of different men climaxing at the vision of her beauty. Breathlessly gasping at the strain of her paroxysms of pleasure, Morgan mewled, desperately trying not to make noise, the habit of growing up in a house full of people.

Inevitably, the orgasms ended, yet even the aftershocks were forceful, making her judder and quake as she lay panting on her bed. As the world of fantasy dissipated, the reality of her situation became more concrete. Real-life men were watching her dazed, weak and sprawling naked in plain view. It was so much better than the fantasy that it made her cry. Conflicting emotions were churning around in her stomach, chest and brain. The swirling feeling made her feel drunk, out of control and impulsive.

Moving both hands to her breasts, she left the vibrator wedged deep inside, still buzzing, making her pussy tingle. Morgan fondled her smooth, sensitive breasts, caressing skin that ached for touch. Helpless to stop herself, she peeked at the collection of faces ogling her. Morgan could see the men from the knees up, the frame of the building elevated enough for them to see down into her bedroom window.

Teasing her hypersensitive nipples sent electric jolts through her chest to her spine. The more she touched them the further the cold heat of sensation flowed up and down her nervous system. In seconds her clit pulsed with jealousy. Instead, she gave her tender clit a rest as she recovered from the intensity of her climaxes.

Frustrated, she dropped her hands to the bed.

The problem was the men were still looking at her. The lust on their faces was an aphrodisiac, a whip lashing her to keep going, to keep performing for them. Morgan was still insatiably horny. The part of her brain that gloried in being watched, only recently awoken, urged her to keep going. Sexual fulfillment eluded her. Yearning for satisfaction, Morgan slid her hands over her body. Stroking her slender, toned legs she relished touching the soft skin over hard muscle. Letting her thighs fall open, she stroked fingers along receptive skin, teasing herself and her audience.

Undulating her hips as the toy hummed away in her clenching core, Morgan panted as passion took hold once more. Brushing her flat tummy and caressing her tits, the young woman ached for more sensation. Twisting this way and that for her audience, exhilarated by being observed in this sordid state, shed still pretended not to know she was being observed. Sexual frustration tormented the horny young woman exhibiting her petite, athletic body to the enraptured onlookers.

In her heightened state of arousal, Morgan felt her body tremble with a tiny flutter of an orgasm without even touching her clit. Before discovering the joy of being watched, the shy girl had always found climaxes elusive, however being witnessed as she behaved so lewdly brought her utter delight. For the first time in he life orgasms were exploding rapidly and powerfully in her tiny frame.

The keen fear of discovery, the absolute knowledge that this was wrong and was going to get her in some kind of trouble was a dark impulse goading her behaviour, but awareness of that was a dust mote of consciousness in the hurricane of passion sweeping over her awareness. An animalistic need to be witnessed, finally exposed as a sexual being, a woman... that atavistic need overrode all else.

With her hands being controlled by her sex, not her brain, her fingers once more began to caress her tingling clit and move the vibrator in and out of her clenching pussy. Nothing within her imagination was as erotic as the view of those men watching her vulgar exploits, so Morgan held open her eyes, watching them watch her. Morgan plunged off the edge of morality and dove headlong into depravity.

*****

Morgan was the youngest of five children from a lower-middle-class Midwestern family. All her life she had been ignored, overlooked in a brood of siblings who all found ways to excel at things before she was old enough to even compete.

Morgan was a champion level badminton player, but her eldest brother was a football star, so the much less glamorous sport she excelled at didn't even register to her family. Her eldest sister was exceptional at scholarly pursuits, with grades unreachable for Morgan, even though the younger girl loved learning. Morgan's second brother was charming, excelled at music and performance, far outshining Morgan's years of dance. The last sibling was Morgan's closest in age, a sister who was mechanically inclined and so, was the apple of their father's eye.

That father's eye was almost never cast toward the small after-thought daughter who never seemed to assert herself in any meaningful way. Morgan was simply not as feisty as the rest of her siblings. Everyone, including her parents, were athletic, attractive people. So was Morgan, but she didn't stand out in that exceptional crowd. At school, boys either had crushes on Morgan's older sisters, or were too afraid of her big brothers to ask her out.

In desperation, searching for an identity out from under the shadow of her siblings, Morgan had moved to the west coast to live with a hippy aunt that she hadn't seen since she was seven. Terrified of the change, depressed at the thought of staying, she moved far away from everything she knew.

The move was almost everything she dreamed it would be. Aunt Amelia was kind and beautiful, but very busy, so she became another person who had little time for Morgan. None-the-less, the new transplant to the city felt her spirits lift as she stretched the wings of the constrained emerging from under the shadow of her exceptional siblings.

Aunt Amelia's house was huge, but falling apart. There were three stories above ground with an unfinished basement. Amelia was the somewhat successful editor of an online magazine she'd started in the late nineties, but she needed a tenant to help pay for the mortgage in her expensive city. Morgan's room was spacious and bright, a big window dominating the western wall. The room in aunt Amelia's house was on the top floor and had a clear unobstructed view of the city falling toward the sea. The huge, old house was on a block in the midst of big changes.

"That view is new. There used to be another house just like this next door and another beyond that" Amelia had told her when Morgan had gushed about the view. "They tore them down as soon as the weather got nice last Spring and they're building a big condo complex there now. Redeveloping the neighbourhood. Pffft!" Amelia had been disgusted by the gentrification going on. "Don't get used to the view, before long it'll be gone."

Morgan found everything about being in a new place exciting, so even the noise and activity on the construction site was novel to a farm girl. Settling into her new home, Morgan soon felt like Amelia's was a place she could be happy. There was no competition for the shower, no arguments over what to watch, or missing out on delicious foods because she was late to the table.

Morgan put out the few tchotchkes she'd brought with her from the family home and began trying to discover who she was.

Since infancy Morgan had traipsed around in her room freely undressed. It was merely her natural state. The habit had continued when she moved to the city. When she moved in, the construction next door was only just beginning on the basement, so the risk of being seen through the window hadn't even occurred to the naive girl.

Sex in general hadn't been on Morgan's radar for long. The family's natural gift of charisma had helped Morgan charm friends, but any flirting she did was unintentional. The only attention she craved was from her exceptional family. That inward focus and determination to be noticed by her relatives hindered the development of her sexual identity. Flirtation hadn't occurred to her as a form of attention because almost no-one flirted with her first.

Not until her last sister's graduated did Morgan become one of the prettiest girl in school. When the boys she grew up with suddenly started flirting with her, Morgan was too far behind. Awkward first attempts to flirt back were mocked, so she once again buried herself in sports and study. The depression that followed impelled her to flee when she graduated.

The first few weeks in the big city revealed to Morgan that even her impressive sisters wouldn't be big fish in that huge pond. Feeling even more invisible, she hadn't gone looking for dates, just work. Morgan needed a job very badly.

Growing up her family had not been wealthy, no-one had money in their town. The move west had cost everything Morgan had and her parents didn't have any savings for her, the last of five. Aunt Amelia charged $500 in rent, very reasonable in the big city, but getting work was a long, humiliating prospect that ended when she finally got a job as a waitress two weeks after arriving.

Slowly, her life in the big city came into focus. Work, exercise and studying the new styles and ways woman behaved in the big city occupied a large part of Morgan's mind as she tried to acclimatize to her new surroundings.

The weather was almost always warm on the coast and Morgan loved running and doing yoga outside, the habit of being in shape for competitions still ingrained. The first time she walked home wearing a tank top and shorts after a yoga session in the park she thought nothing of it, many other women at the park had been dressed the same. The outfit seemed reasonable on a hot day, so it was quite a shock when the construction workers whistled and cat-called her as she passed.

Back home men had cat-called, but she had always known who they were; Billy Masters, the jerk on her brother's team, or Mr. Klippet the pervert who spent every weekend at the strippers. The city men were strangers and knew where she lived. It was more scary.

But it was also surprisingly exciting.

Running up to her room she looked at herself in the mirror and tried to see what the men saw when they whistled. Morgan was small, 5'3" and 115 pounds. Every part of her was compact, but she did have feminine curves and her skin was tanned from hours outside. She looked healthy and vibrant, long, fair hair in a pony-tail.

"Pretty cute... but sexy?" she wondered.

As she prepared to get into the shower, she glanced at herself in the full length mirror on the door of her aunt's funky, antique wardrobe. When she was down to her underwear she assessed her body, seeing a glimpse of the sexy woman the men saw. Something in the proportions of her hips, to waist, to shoulders... perhaps her silhouette was the ideal ratio.

Just then movement next door caught her eye. The sheltered young woman was not in any way self-conscious as she glanced to the side to see what had caught her attention. Morgan looked over and saw a man twenty feet away working on the building next door. Wondering if he was one of the men who cat-called, she watched him working for a moment.

The man was in a harness, working with a hammer to erect a frame for a wall. Basking in the warm sunbeam shining into her room, Morgan looked at the young man, his fit body agile as he worked on the dangerous height of the building just below.

Suddenly she saw him dart his eyes at her surreptitiously. Bemused by his suspicious glance, she looked around. Looking down at herself, she realized she was standing in plain view in just her bra and panties. The sun illuminated her in the window, her bare skin glowing warmly.

Immediately two powerful impulses washed over her in equal intensity. Simultaneously, she had the powerful urge to take off her undergarments and reveal herself fully and the more reasonable instinct to step out sight of the window. Hesitating, frozen by the two conflicting desires, Morgan felt herself grow more aroused the longer she stood there. Unmoving, she saw the man spying on her glance over two, three then four more times. Each brush of his eyes lasted longer as he scanned her body. Shocked by her own behaviour, titillated by his gaze, Morgan learned that she enjoyed him looking at her nearly nude body.

Then the thought of her family finding out she was exposing herself to a stranger finally goaded her to retreat out of the sunbeam.

Hiding out of the light, peering around the wardrobe, Morgan saw the moment he registered her absence. The man stopped working and risked a full-faced gaze into the window to catch sight of her. Darting further behind cover, Morgan felt her body flush with a very adult feeling desire.

Until that moment physical pleasure alone had been the reason she ever masturbated. It felt good to her body, but her brain was only vaguely involved. Suddenly her brain was alive with perverted thoughts. Morgan found she was standing in her room, peeking out from behind her wardrobe, masturbating while looking at the man across the way. The idea that he had just been looking at her in her underwear was making her body flush with liquid warmth.

Visions of stepping out and letting him see her touch herself filled her mind and her body reacted in ways she hadn't known it could. As if she were discovering some mystical power she never knew she had, Morgan unsealed a passion that lay dormant inside her until that moment.

Before then, climaxes had been elusive and rarely attained. Masturbating was merely enjoyable, not compelling. As she slumped to the floor, she felt euphoric from having had a man see her almost naked for the first time. Morgan climaxed long and hard as she fucked herself with her fingers. Debauched thoughts flashed through her mind as her fingers unleashed bliss between her legs. Delightedly, surprised to finally understand what true sexual desire was, Morgan plunged into a new depth of pleasure, one that most people find, but that had eluded her for a long time.

Occasionally peeking out her window at the man working next door, the enraptured teen obeyed her sensitive button, stroking herself for long moments as ecstasy robbed her of shame. As with any new discovery, Morgan explored her newfound desire, imagining stepping into view once more. The merest thought of it sent needle sharp stabs of pure lust along her nerves.

But nothing lasts forever.

When she felt her lust flagging after a time, she dared herself to walk across the window in her bra and soaking wet panties. Morgan felt a salacious thrill as she braved exposure to the man working fifteen feet from her window. The horny teen passed the window. As she did she glanced out and saw him watching her out of the corner of his eye. Morgan found it exhilarating that he didn't know she was aware of his gaze.

On the other side of the room, Morgan immediately rubbed herself to a powerful climax, biting her lip to keep from crying out with passion. The briefest of exposures was enough to fuel her orgasm for another few moments. Morgan had lost twenty minutes to her depravity before realizing in panic, she had to clean herself up to get to work on time.

Rushing out the door, Morgan found herself nervous, but thrilled to walk past the work-site this time. A waitress at a family restaurant chain, she was wearing dark slacks and a navy tank-top to wear under her uniform shirt. Nothing overtly sexual, still the idea of them looking at her, assessing her sexual desirability got her excited.