From a View to a Thrill

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Man gets his jollies watching a woman doing the same.
773 words
4.31
8.7k
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A 750-words, Man gets his jollies watching a woman doing the same

Millie Dynamite

© Copyright 2022 by Millie Dynamite

From his tenth-floor apartment balcony, James Fanner had an unobstructed view of every window of the condos in the building across the avenue. This spying was better by using the two cameras concealed in the planters atop the railings at each end of his terrace.

The day was one of those made slightly dreary by cloud cover. No one lounged nude on their balcony. Most of the women were doing dull chores in their apartments. Cleaning, reading, watching their televisions tuned into boring soap operas, reruns of ancient shows, or insipid game shows. Not one hint of a clandestine rendezvous to thrill him, nor did any of the hot women dress for a long, sexy yoga workout.

He scanned window after window, using both cameras, watching, waiting for something to spawn a little self-gratification.

That was until midday, and the married young woman directly across from James's apartment picked up a tall glass filled with vodka and ice, and ventured to her balcony. Gazing around while still wearing her pink, lace nighty. With the bottle of Smirnoff's Vanilla in one hand and the glass in the other, she reconnoitered the two buildings. Ample breasts covered, every so barely, with a delicate lace pattern and silken ebony flesh alive with so much pimpled gooseflesh.

Tall, curvy, with jet-black hair, and a visible ache screaming, this trophy wife didn't have enough love to satisfy her. For a few minutes, craning her neck upward, down, and across, checking all the windows and balconies for something.

"Umm," James said, "she's sure she's safe from prying eyes now. Go on, bitch, give me a show."

Lifting the glass to her lips, she sipped the colorless booze, staining the rim of the glass with her bright, ruby red lipstick. She licked her lips and lay on the reclining chair. The chair sat at an angle to the rail. Being she was far enough away, he could see her entire body. All the lovely curves, the wonderful, toned, and shapely legs, and all the ebon flesh underneath the pink lace.

Again, she lifted the glass to her full, luscious lips and, in a long draw, drank down the contents of the glass. Setting the bottle on the floor and the glass on the table, she settled into the chair. Letting recline all the way, she stretched out, running her hands over herself and licking her lips, and she moved as if tiny creatures crawled over her flesh.

James wondered how the middle-aged, dull, white business executive had bagged such a beautiful black woman.

"Money, you stupid fuck."

Unbuttoning the nightgown, she slivered it over her head, tossing it into the open French doors. She wore no panties and sported only a thin landing strip pointing to her heavenly heart of happiness. The woman coaxed herself, with her hands, with their bright red fingernails, wandered over her body, soft, like a shy man afraid of upsetting the beauty he wants to seduce.

Raising the middle finger of her right hand, she licked and sucked to the base. She moved her hand from her mouth down between her legs. Running around the lips, digging the finger inside herself and her other hand, she touched and pinched the nipple of her left breast. Her hand lulled to one side, her tongue tracing her lips as she let soft moans escape her lips.

He wished he could hear her.

Unzipping his pants and fishing out his hard cock, James stroked. Spitting on his hand, he jacked, and watched, and wished, and wanted to fuck her, and understood he can't view her and fuck her at the same time.

Her legs squirmed, her hands explored, and her body wriggled about on the daybed. One hand or the other lingered on her quim and probed, moving away, replaced by the other. Her mouth parted in a long, silent squeal of pleasure.

And she continued. Touching, pinching, breast, belly, face, neck, her hands explored as one who was sightless becoming familiar with every inch of a lover. Twisting away, fingers danced over her ass. A hand ran up her back and down the back of her legs. One hand returned between her legs, and she rolled back on her back once more.

With a long, low moan, twitching her legs, trembling belly, and the shuddering of her beautiful, buoyant breast, James realized she climaxed. Without warning, her body stilled. She stretched out, and after a moment, curled into a ball and drifted into sleep.

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5 Comments
STrentSTrentabout 1 month ago

Just catching up on your work and I thoroughly enjoyed this. For a 750 story it’s compact and well paced, really builds up the “heat” well.

AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Neat, sexy little story!

Paul4playPaul4playover 1 year ago

Your story captures the allure..and the compulsion…of being a voyeur: that sense of waiting for the right combination of opportunities to see something intimate and arousing, as well as the wonder and story telling that fills the gaps in what you witness.

Choosing to keep the word count low is perfect, because these “encounters” tend to be brief.

Well done!

sheeversheeverover 1 year ago

Tthe hubris of a lot of writers' is turned back on them by this short and sweet, little ,.neat and tidy story .Really wonder what 3-6 pages can do for the reader a lot of the time . I tips my lid to Hemmingway once again.....

AliceWadeAliceWadeover 1 year ago

I read the story and enjoyed it a great deal. I wanted there to be more of this tale. Totally guessing here, but I think the text is less than a thousand words, so I'm assuming you wrote for some challenge. If it was, you probably should have included that before the story began. For such a brief tale, it was highly stimulating but left me randy and in need. If your goal was to leave me wanting more, job well done. Next time you have one so, very short, please tell us why.

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