Corona Curios: The throbbing member

I'd like to say I reacted coolly. That I calmly turned off the tap and raised myself to my full height on the stool as I held her eyes with mine. But that would be crap and you know it, and I do too. I can't think of a single friend or acquaintance who, no matter how drunk, would buy it for a single second. So I won't even try to sell it to you. The reality was that I dropped the hose into the sink and grabbed at the taps, audibly screamed as I turned the hot on full as the metal-bound hose retracted itself into the stem of the faucet, before finally shutting off the flow. I was bending next to tug at the shorts round my ankles, uncomfortably conscious of the feeling of damp, lukewarm cotton sticking, limpet-like my skin, above and below the waist. It was only when I finally battled the shorts to my middle, defeating their rearguard attempt to weld themselves to every hair on my calves and thighs, that I dared a look to see if she was still there.

She was. And she was laughing. Not with what a dick-mockery like almost everyone I knew would have. But a happy, carefree, open-mouthed guffaw while she held the gown she was wearing tight at the neck with one hand and waved an unintelligible semaphore with the other. There was something about the lack of shyness, guile or embarrassment with which she continued to look over at me, which made me smile in return and frown questioningly at what she was trying to signal with her single, gesticulating hand.

I was wondering why I'd never seen her before. Why I'd never seen anyone at that window before in the three or four years I'd had the flat. I must have stared out at it drinking my first coffee of the day every morning without fail - the piled-up grounds around the base of the aloe vera were testament to that - even though I had no actual recollection of having done so. And she had a body which, once seen, I doubted I'd ever forget. The flimsy gown hinted at, but did not expose, a full figure, not fat, fulsome was the word my mind rested on. Her breasts were well-defined. Not Gloria-huge, but big enough for me certainly. She had a slim waist which flared out to hips atop of shapely thighs, legs, obscured though they were by work top and window frame, I imagined to be long for her height and perfectly formed.

I was still not getting her message. I tried a number of moves of my own. Turning sideways like I wanted her to do, unbuttoning the top of the polo shirt I was wearing. Each gesture was met with a theatrical and exaggerated shake of her head which made the curls seem to shimmy in the light shining somewhere above her. It was only when I grabbed my waistband to tug up my shorts that she began to nod vigorously. I mimed dropping them. Even more energetic nods. I held up a hand to tell her to stay where she was and kept waving until she indicated she understood. I jumped down off the stool and dragged a high seat across from my kitchen island. It would be high enough for her to see, but my legs were beginning to ache. I needed to sit. I gestured again for her to stay and grabbed an old Amazon box I'd been meaning to take down to recycling for about a month and grabbed a permanent marker from the broken-handled cup in which I kept a collection of pens and pencils, most of them non-functioning.

I dropped my shorts before hopping onto the padded seat. She frowned as I wrestled open the cardboard and flattened it across my lap. I drew the number of my phone as big as would fit before capping the pen and slowly standing, using the bottom rung of he stool for leverage. I held the sign in front of my face leaving my cock and balls completely exposed. Only drawback, I couldn't see her reaction. I was beginning to think maybe she'd left me standing there as some kind of private joke when my phone pinged in the other room. I dropped the mask and saw she was still there, now with phone in hand, gown still gathered in a tight fist. I waved to tell her I was going to get my phone and smiled as she grinned and nodded.

'Hi. I'm Melissa. Text only. OK?'

'Sure, I'm Bill,' - I thought about calling myself William, it sounded somehow younger, but I was Bill to everyone but my mother. So hey. - 'Why text?'

'Boyfriend in Australia. Only have phone sex with him.'

I texted back a thumbs-up emoji and waited for her reply. I got a long string of symbols back. Now I don't speak emoji. Too old, I guess. With most of my friends, when they did send them, you could make out what they meant from the actual words. This was different, it included vegetables, at least one small animal, a cake and faces and hand gestures I'd never seen before. I had to fess up to my ignorance.

'I said nice dick.'

I doubted that. She could have spelled it out with fewer clicks. But there was more.

'And I've seen a few in my time.'

We grinned across at each other. I gave a small bow of appreciation before she started tapping again.

'But never one that exact colour B4. Do you mind if I ask what you were doing?'

I almost fell to the ground I laughed so much. I held my hands to my face in mock-embarrassment before concentrating on the screen once more.

'Social distancing. Medically-prescribed masturbation. Might have overdone it a bit.'

'I need the name of your GP. Our office just closed. We were just told to wait for jobs to come through.'

I explained what had happened at work. We no longer needed to exaggerate our body language. Melissa shook with laughter. She went to get a high stool of her own. I scrutinised her closely as she arranged herself on it. Crossing her legs - I was right about them - she never relinquished the grip at her neck, even after tightening the drawstring at her waist.

She teased from me the full story of what I'd been up to over the past few days. There were lots of smiley faces. She said she'd never heard of Literotica but would definitely be checking it out. I recommended a few of my favourite authors, but suggested she explore the full range, that she might find some of the women writers hit the spot for her. She sent me links to some of her favourite porn. From the ease with which she accessed them they were clearly well-viewed.

'I like a bit of raunch as much as the next girl, but you're probably right.'

'I think you might have sorted my evening's entertainment for me.'

'Not going already are you? I'm just loving staring at your prick.'

It was the first time in ages I'd become conscious of my nakedness. I dropped a hand instinctively to cover myself, then pulled it away smiling. It was a bit late for modesty. But my mind was full of what this raunchy woman had beneath her gown. I decided to be straightforward about it.

'You've seen mine, what about showing me yours?'

I watched her read and detected the slightest shake of her head. She glanced up at me then quickly down. She started to tap letters into her phone, then suddenly stopped, took a deep breath and laid the instrument slowly and deliberately on the counter next to her. She looked across at me and this time held my gaze. I held my own breath as, for the first time, she unclenched the fist at her neck.

With agonising slowness she pulled the top wider exposing her shoulders. Her skin was pale, I could see a sprinkling of freckles on her upper arms. She muttered something to herself and seemed to grit her teeth. She was examining my face for every slightest reaction. With another deep breath she pulled the gown lower - it was still tightly knotted at her waist - and the breasts I'd been fantasising over were finally exposed. They were perfectly imperfect and at last I remembered to breathe again.

The two were slightly asymmetrical, round with the merest sag. Not spherical like so many of the silicone-stuffed mammaries I'd been wanking over recently, but almost so. One nipple - brown and small and surrounded by a paler areole - pointed straight at me. The other, slightly higher it seemed to me was at an angle. It also looked marginally larger than its sister. I was captivated, I couldn't help wondering whether what I was observing was a trick of the light. Maybe the way she was holding her body. All I knew was that I could stare at them forever and never lose interest. I grabbed my phone and tapped.

'Wow.'

It had exactly the opposite effect from that I'd intended. She heard the ping as it reached her and immediately pulled the gown back to her throat. If anything it seemed tighter, more modest than before. She scowled at me, snatched up her phone and erased what she'd written before she'd started with more than a little anger. The new message was stamped out with such emotion that she clearly had to go back and correct something every few words. She was still frowning when she pressed send and stared across at me waiting for me to read.

'Don't. I've never done anything like this. I've never had sex with the lights on. Ever. Don't you dare stop me being brave.'

There was another string of emojis. This one longer than the first. I didn't care to even speculate what they may mean. I felt bereft. Devastated that my simple gesture of appreciation could cause such a reaction. Such shame, was that the right word? Part of me wanted to defend myself, to protest the innocence of my motive. I remembered just in time the number of relationships I'd fucked up by reacting senselessly, with cold rationality, when what was needed was an apology and request for forgiveness.

I did the only thing I could think of. I stood upright again on the bottom rung of the stool and spread my arms away from my sides, palms facing towards her. I held the pose for what seemed an age, the pain on the soles of my feet from the wooden bar was growing beyond uncomfortable. I could feel the pain begin to rise in my calves. Melissa's expression or posture barely changed. As I was about to give in, to go back to my phone and try words where my gestures had clearly failed, she suddenly smiled.

I know it sounds soppy, but at the same time the sun seemed to break through and slowly creep down the wall of her building and bathe her in yellow light. I watched entranced as she suddenly stood, mirroring my pose, then tugged at the belt and this time let the whole gown fall with a shrug of her shoulders. She was gorgeous. My hand went to my mouth and I could feel tears prick at the back of my eyes. Below the breasts I had already seen was the slightest round of a comfortable stomach. There was a clear fold of flesh above the trimmed pubic hair and an imaginary line between her hips. In that moment I wanted more than anything to run a soft finger across it, to feel her softness, her contours, to use that as a base camp for exploring every inch of her.

It was then that my legs finally gave way. I fell back onto the seat and had no option but to vigorously massage my lower legs and feet. I was in real agony and I couldn't fake anything different if I tried. And believe me I did try. I ended up with both feet on the edge of the sink as I finished kneading my calves and dared to look back to her for the first time. I was flushed with embarrassment and humiliated by my weakness. I fully expected to see her completely covered again, if not gone. Instead I saw her sitting, smiling at me, still naked, but with her legs together as she straightened her back causing those perfect breasts to jump out towards me. She had her phone in her hand and after giving me a clear view for a full minute, she started to message me again.

'Well I've never had that effect on a man before. I thought for a minute it was a whole new way of masturbating no one had told me about.'

That was kind, I thought, overlooking what must have been a grotesque sight. But I was not to be out-mocked by anyone.

'It's a little dance I devised years ago but vowed never to perform except to the most beautiful woman in the world. Maybe a bit rusty.'

She was openly laughing as she replied.

'Crawler. I'd like to say you know the way into a girl's panties, but I seem to have misplaced mine.'

'Nothing should cover that perfect pussy.'

'I'd call you a liar, but your dick seems to be backing you up.'

I looked down and I did have a half-lob on. I rested it on my left hand, it hardened even more, and held it towards her whilst typing with only my right. No easy task I can tell you.

'All yours.'

I could swear she quickly wiped her eyes before replying.

'Will you wank for me? I'm already soaking.'

I didn't bother with a response. Not in words anyway. I spread my legs wider and slowly began to stroke my shaft. I held her eyes the whole time despite being wary of aggravating my earlier soreness. There was some undeniable residual discomfort there, but Melissa's reaction made ignoring it the easiest thing in the world.

She watched me for a minute or two before slowly putting down her phone. One hand went to her breast, the other between her legs once she had stretched her thighs. I had the easier role. I just had to keep stroking gently and then more firmly as I grew and hardened. Melissa's smile grew with my erection. She was working herself furiously. I almost winced myself as she pinched her nipple and pulled and stretched it away from her chest. She stretched her legs apart and ended up with one foot on the sink like mine. First one, then two, then three fingers slid between her engorged lips and up into the deep pink tunnel. She maintained a furious rhythm only pausing once. She used fingers of both hands to roll back the hood of her clitoris showing my the delicate button before resuming her fury, now frigging herself with her thumb on her clit to increase her pleasure further.

Our eyes remained locked but our smiles were long gone. Both of us were racing towards climax. I could feel by balls tightening, I jutted my upper body towards her hoping to signal I was about to cum, begging her to climax with me. As the first rope of sperm shot over towards the window, Melissa surrendered herself. She seemed to lose all strength as her head lolled back and her thighs clenched tight trapping her hand between them. I watched her spasm and even thought I caught the sound of a scream as her mouth gaped before all movement stopped. By this time, the last of my ejeculation had dribbled out over my hand. It was not, as they say, copious. Had we been in the same room I might even have made a weak joke about being wanked-out after my self-pleasuring of the last few days. As it was I just sat there, taking stock of my own returning sensations and enjoying the sight of the beautiful Melissa as she adjusted herself in her seat, seeming to be trying to squeeze the very last drops of ecstasy from the moment.

The end was sudden and shocking. She sat bolt upright and looked around, confused, until she found her phone. I was taken aback by the sudden movement and even jumped a little myself. She was obviously speaking to someone and was out of her seat and walking away before my phone pinged an alert.

'Fuck. Work. Same time tomorrow?'

After checking my clock to make sure I got the exact time, I replied with another thumbs up. This time I added a big smiley too. She'd told me to look up aloe vera extraction, promising the video was no more than fifteen seconds long. Boy did I need that one, and maybe I'd have time to find an emoji dictionary too.

Would I ever get laid again? Who knows? But was there a chance of more of the best sex of my life tomorrow this time? Fuck yeah.