A Northerly Light

I don't know what first caught my eye. Maybe a glint from a mirror, a light flicked on in the growing dusk? Whatever it was, it sparked something that's been at turns amusing, thrilling and sordid. And not just for me.

We'd recently rehabbed our attic space: paneled, wired and insulated it and generally made it a pleasant office for me. We also added a window in one gable end to let in the soft northerly light. That's where I set up my desk.

Our older neighborhood had grown organically, with lots and houses of different shapes and sizes. As a result this window overlooks a bedroom in the Hadleys' house next door, just a dozen feet away and a half-story below. The Hadleys had always seen a blank wall opposite, and my new window was up and away from their usual view. I guess that's why they didn't think to draw their curtains. Parts of their room were out of my view, but not many.

That explained the glint. As I glanced toward it I got a little shock -- our neighbor Dan was moving around his well-lit room in the nude, just out of the shower. I was in the semi-dark and looking downward, so he didn't notice he had an observer. Two things popped into my head at almost the same time: A) I really didn't need to see Dan's dangly bits, and B) holy crap, did this made me a peeper, a pervert?

Rationalization kicked in pretty quickly: It wasn't intentional, my gaze didn't linger on his willie, no harm done, blah blah. I'd just make it a point to not look there any more. I didn't see how I could casually suggest to Dan that they close their curtains, but maybe my wife Ellen could find a diplomatic way to mention it to Cathy.

Hold on a sec (said my other head) -- Cathy. If Dan was strolling around in the buff, did that mean...

And just like that, I really was a pervert.

Dan and Cathy are a little younger than Ellen and I, Dan maybe 31 to Cathy's 27. Neither of us had kids. He's nothing to look at, not that I'm anyone to judge, but she's a fox: 5'7, workout-trim with long legs and high, tight B-cup tits, a cute oval face with a generous mouth and dark neck-length hair. I've idly imagined her naked -- well, yeah, like with most women under 40 -- and gotten tantalizing hints when we'd all been together at the beach.

My work suffered for all the stolen glances. It wasn't a conscious thing, I'd just be typing away and realize I hadn't seen the screen for a while. The odds of catching anything during the day were slim, since Cathy often worked outside the house. Dan was sometimes out of town for a week or two doing some systems integration jazz I didn't understand. Meanwhile I was developing a crick in my neck.

Evenings were different. I won't say I camped out upstairs, but I did spend more hours 'on the job'. Ellen just assumed I was on deadline. On one of these evenings my vigilance was rewarded. Dusk was falling but my lights were off when the room next door lit up. It was Cathy, home from work and dressed in business casual. She shucked off her jacket, then stepped out of view. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until she reappeared, working the buttons on her blouse and the zipper of her skirt.

My hand went to my own zipper, anticipating what I'd pictured so often these past few days. Off came the blouse to reveal a plain white bra. Down went the skirt, showing matching cotton panties under hose. My cock was growing with every pulse... when she turned away and pulled out some sweats from a drawer. In a moment, the moment was over. She turned off the light as she left. Shit. All that for that. I'd seen more at the beach. I was left holding a dwindling dick and feeling even pervier. Enough, this was a silly waste of time.

I stayed away from the window for three days, almost a record in self-control for me. I felt virtuous. I'd given up smoking and chocolate bonbons, but those were years ago. Then late one night when I really was on deadline the light came on, causing a Pavlovian twitch in my dick. I should tie a bell on it. I reasoned that I needed a break anyway, and what's the harm?

I clicked off my desk lamp and closed the laptop, leaving me invisible. There was a confusion of movement in the room, two people making bedtime prep. Cathy started to undress with her back to me. This time she unclasped her bra, slipped off her panties and hose, and turned to visit the bathroom. My heart was in my throat. It was just a glimpse but I saw it all -- two proud breasts with just a slight jiggle, a small dark patch below a taut stomach, and below that a pair of pendulous pussy lips.

I'd been so intent on Cathy I forgot that Dan was in the room, and now also naked. I casually noted his hairy ball sack, then it was his turn in the bathroom. When Cathy came back I instantly forgot him again. The prize was in sight and my cock was as hard as the three-body problem.

Cathy sat on the edge of the bed with her legs slightly spread. I thought I'd remember that sight forever, like a photograph, and... shit! Pictures! I scrabbled for my phone camera, making sure the flash was off. I blessed the team that invented image stabilization as my trembling hands (well, the free one) clicked off a couple of stills. And barely in time, as Dan re-entered and doused the overhead light, leaving just the bedside lamps.

The dimmer light didn't ruin the view completely, but I figured this session was over and prepared to bring my state from aroused to spent. I continued watching as I stroked, assuming that any action would proceed in darkness and under covers.

But I was wrong. Way wrong. Dan sat on the bed next to Cathy and drew her into a kiss. One hand went to her breasts then another found its way to those puffy lips, massaging and opening them to expose her pinkness. As she reclined I noted with approval that her tits didn't droop to the sides but remained mostly upright. And now Dan was nibbling and sucking them, and she squirmed as his fingers probed her fleshy opening, and his cock was growing from a noodle to a cudgel, and...

Whoa now. I'd only wanted to see Cathy naked, but this was something else -- it was making me feel like a voyeur. I went cold. Fuck, fuck. I actually was a voyeur, this is what voyeurs do. I should stop this right now, leave the room, seal off this window, buy a blindfold, move to a remote island. I am not this person, no sir this is not me. But first I had to stop looking. And I couldn't. I couldn't even stop taking pictures.

I watched helplessly, my cock a bone in my fist, as Cathy dropped to her knees and, though the view was now obstructed, obviously took Dan into her mouth and started bobbing. I could see her butt crack, a small rose tattoo, a wisp of pubes and a glimpse of those pendant lips with a glistening that revealed her own arousal. I was lost.

She must have judged him sufficiently rigid because she stood to straddle him. She slowly lowered herself onto his now engorged and slippery tool. I saw every inch of him disappear into her. The sight was so intimate and so present that I could almost feel her tight cunt grabbing me, sliding wetly up and down. I was Dan in my mind, as the real Dan reached up to caress her lovely breasts and tweak her stiff nipples, pulling her forward and exposing her asshole as we both fucked into her, getting closer and closer until Bang! I was blowing like Hurricane Hardon.

I wish I could say it was mutual, but when I came back to my senses the two of them were still at it, though not for long. Cathy sat upright, pressing her hand to her mound and rubbing furiously to bring it on, to get over. Her bobbed hair flew as she threw her head back, and even through closed windows I thought I could hear her howl out her orgasm. Dan was obviously right behind, as streams of white began to ooze and mix with Cathy's copious secretions.

After a couple of minutes Dan fell out and Cathy stepped away, cupping her crotch to hold in their liquid mess. Dan wiped off his cock and turned off his bedside light. Cathy returned and did the same. Darkness signaled that the show was over, thanks for coming, and come again soon. Th-th-that's all, folks.

During the week I replayed that night often, with a few snapshots as an aide-memoire. I was still conflicted about my role as a voyeur, but with time I felt less like an obvious pervert. I had settled into the part, excused myself and justified my actions. You know, like any perv would. And if I'd had any doubt right afterward, all that was now dispelled -- I knew I wouldn't buy that blindfold. Instead I'd buy a better camera.

Being a tech-minded soul, I cast about for ways to stop this from becoming a time-eating obsession. I clearly could not spend every evening in my attic office waiting for another night of action. For all I knew Dan and Cathy only fucked on odd-numbered full moons. I needed to automate this, at least a little. Oh, how quickly we descend into madness.

I bought a high-quality video surveillance camera and disguised it so Ellen wouldn't notice it. It'd record as long as it detected motion. Neat. With it trained on the Window of Wonder I could review any action in glossy hi-def without spending all day in attendance. I lined it up and got on with life. It wouldn't have the immediate rush of live action, but I was pretty sure I'd never have that consuming an experience again anyway.

Over the next weeks I did manage to catch a few brief nude scenes but it was mostly just lights going on or off, or changing for bed. No more steamy sex sessions -- maybe they really were waiting for the next full moon. Then one week Dan wasn't in the clips. I guessed he was out of town integrating some systems. I assumed there'd be nothing to see, unless Cathy used some toys as a substitute. That'd be cool too.

So I was a bit surprised to find a clip almost an hour long waiting on Saturday morning. Ellen was out at a farmer's market so I decided to review it right then. My surprise soon turned to astonishment.

The clip started as the light came on, time-stamped 1:14 AM. Two figures stumbled into the room, laughing and groping and behaving like wasted kids. One of them was Cathy. The other wasn't Dan. Not even close.

The guy, I'll call him Joe just because it's awkward to keep saying "the guy", was clearly in lust with Cathy, and she with him. She went to her knees, still mostly clothed, and tugged at his belt and zipper. Joe's limp but meaty cock popped into view, then into her mouth. I paused the video -- a great advantage over live action -- to let this image settle in my mind. Also to drop my own trousers.

I watched Cathy suck the guy, I mean Joe, until he was proudly erect. Joe was longer and thicker than Dan, a fact not lost on Cathy as she slurped and gagged on his cock. I froze the scene again to capture a still that showed Cathy's cute face stuffed to the throat with a non-Dan cock. This would go on the honor roll.

I watched in fascination as Joe grabbed her head and just fucked her skull. No finesse, no care, just naked thrusting. It almost seemed like I could hear the sounds of sex in this silent film. And even though it looked like she was being badly treated, apparently she didn't mind: with one hand she'd opened her jeans and was wanking her box full speed.

Holy mama, I could not believe this was "my" Cathy. It's a truism that you can never really know what goes on in others' lives so I shouldn't have been shocked, but honestly, I'd have been less surprised if she'd sprouted horns and sung opera. So this was Cathy on a Friday night, hooking up at a bar when Dan was away. Crazy. But I was getting used to it.

During my musings I'd missed a bit so I rewound (yes, I know, it's just a figure of speech). Joe hadn't come in Cathy's throat, saving his load for a better target. Instead they got naked and moved to the bed.

Joe was a brute, not just in the dick but all over, a solid hairy 6 feet plus and 200 lbs or so, all muscles and tattoos. He was still erect but now Cathy was spread-eagled at the edge of the bed, imploring him to return the oral favor. I had to stop for another still. It was truly precious to see my fantasy girl splayed out, dripping wet with her breasts proudly raised, nipples at full staff, with her hulking and turgid lover clearly visible in the frame. Another one for the scrapbook.

Joe bent to his task. His head obscured the action, but he must have known how to eat pussy because right away Cathy was writhing and howling, grasping his head and urging him to more, more, yes right there, don't stop don't stop. And while I couldn't see exactly what was going on, his fingers were plainly busy in her snatch because she was rising off the bed and humping rhythmically on his hand.

Suddenly her eyes flashed open and she tried to twist away from Joe's mouth and hand. It didn't take a genius to figure out that his fingers had strayed lower and were now probing her asshole as he continued to slurp and chew at her cunt and clit. It may have startled her at first but it wasn't long before her eyes were closed again in dreamy contentment. She went limp, accepting, welcoming his anal intrusions. Acceptance turned to greed as his efforts roused her further. In a few minutes she was clutching and straining for release. When it came it was epic. I had to get Joe's number and see if he gave lessons.

Cathy might have wanted to stop there, so complete was her climax, but there was still the matter of Joe's horny tool. The night wasn't over. I had a brief spell as I realized I'd so fully entered into the video reality I'd forgotten it wasn't that night any longer, it was almost noon. This was intense shit, way beyond what I'd bargained for when I started down this road. That's not a complaint, by the way.

As Joe moved out of the way I could see Cathy's fine toned body, limp in satisfaction, her cunt wide open and still reddened with lust. Joe saw the same thing. Even better for him he was right there, with the heat and smell of raw pussy. He didn't wait long. He hoisted Cathy's legs and slid his hard member up and down her snatch to lube it enough for entry. He entered.

As ready as she was, Cathy still gasped as his size opened her more than Dan had ever done, or ever would. He eased in without retreat until he was fully seated at her pelvis, balls resting against her ass. She took a moment to realize that it was all in and it hadn't killed her. Then she groaned and humped to get the motor running. Joe started a slow in and out, gradually increasing the force of his fucking until he'd settled into a pace they both could enjoy.

He must have been bumping her clit on the downstroke because she was making little yips (I could 'hear' them) every time he bottomed out. She was tugging at his hips and yelling at him to fuck fuck fuck oh god that's it I'm there again. He never stopped his relentless pounding as it carried her up and over for yet another climax, and still he didn't come.

Cathy was in an orgasmic haze as Joe slowed to a maintenance stroke. After she stopped moaning and was about to drift off, he pulled out and said something that caused her to protest sleepily. It became clear what he'd said when after a moment he just flipped her over and pulled her hips up into a rear entry position. I guess he wanted to get his nut doggy style and didn't much care if she was willing or even awake.

He pushed into her, eased by gobs of her goo. He shifted her into a place that gave good friction and started fucking again. Again! My god the guy, I mean Joe, had superhuman, or maybe sub-human, staying power. Now he didn't give a shit about Cathy's pleasure, he just wanted to get off. But even that was enough to get her moving. She reached back to play with her clit as he chugged away. I had to pause again. I didn't dare touch my dick. I wanted to save that for when the show was over. In fact, I owed one to Ellen -- maybe I'd surprise her when she got home.

He hadn't been in her pussy for long when he started rubbing some of their mutual lube around her asshole. She was too far gone to notice, but the video showed it all. He pulled out with no protest from Cathy and shifted his attention, and his beast of a cock, to her sphincter. It was a little odd to realize that up to now, despite his appearance, he'd been a fairly considerate lover. Not any more.

Cathy tried to scoot away but he'd done this before and soon he'd worked his cock into her about an inch. With short, insistent strokes he pushed in the rest. She was more surprised than hurt. His earlier digital probe, and the rich soup of their lube, had made his entry painless. I took a still. I'm sure I could have imagined my sexy neighbor on her knees and elbows, being ass fucked by a Sasquatch clone, but now I didn't have to. I had pics.

Joe found his best rhythm and stuck to it, ignoring Cathy's initial protests and then her eventual submission and grunting pleasure. He was all up in his cock and didn't know anything else. In just a few minutes he stiffened deep in Cathy's bowels and with a roar shot the load he'd been saving up all night. He slumped against her and his dick popped out, loosing a stream of dirty semen that ran down Cathy's pussy and onto her legs.

The rest was just a little stroking that quickly led to sleep. When all motion ceased the clip ended. I had a vague feeling this video was more than just a keeper for my collection, but the thought wasn't fully formed. It could wait. I heard Ellen come in the back door and figured maybe I could do the same. We weren't as spontaneous as we'd been when we first married. Maybe she'd appreciate the attention. I just hoped I could last long enough.

She did, and I did. I don't know what Ellen was thinking as we fucked with an enthusiasm we hadn't shared for some time, but you know I was mentally grabbing stills from the most incredible porno I'd ever seen, and wondering if Dan would still be gone next weekend. A pervert's hope.

It was Tuesday when an audacious thought popped into my head. My dark subconscious had been busy with the question of what the video was good for, and the solution it proposed, as you've probably guessed, was blackmail. I didn't need money, so hmmmm, what else of value could I extract from this situation?

Ordinarily, yes, the answer would be "pussy" but as perverted as I'd become during the past weeks, I wasn't ready to cheat on Ellen. We had a good thing that I didn't want to jeopardize. I'd fallen into this business with the camera and I was happy to keep it to that. So what did I want? Well, first step was to get myself a victim. Time to call on Cathy. I copied some choice stills to my phone and went off to the Hadleys'.

"Hi, Bill. I haven't seen much of you lately. C'mon in. Dan's out of town for another week, so I'm lonely for company."

"Good to see you too, Cathy. You're looking fine as usual. I don't know how you can stay in such good shape. I flab out just looking at a donut. But you, I have to say, your body's as sweet and sexy as it was when you guys first moved in here, what, five years ago? Six?"

Her eyes widened at my frank approach. This was new for us. Our talk had always been friendly but never suggestive.

"Um, thanks I guess. Oh, I noticed Ellen has some new flowers in the back. I meant to tell her how nice they look," she said, cleverly inserting my wife into the conversation.

"Yeah, but fuck all that. I want to talk about something else. Something I don't think either of us would want our spouses to hear."

She showed a look of mild panic. She'd never heard me say "fuck" before, and the implications were troubling her.

"Wh-what do you mean, Bill? I don't have any secrets from Dan."

I gave her my best skeptical leer. "Really, Cathy? Here," I said, pulling out my phone, "take a look at something I'll bet Dan doesn't know about."

It was the pic where she was gagging on the hairy dick of her Friday night lover. She gave a puzzled look and then recognized herself. She blanched and stumbled against the table, then steadied herself and dropped into a chair.