I Like to Watch

I returned to the kitchen to get the detailed sketches I'd made earlier and went upstairs to my bedroom. My big secret is how I love watching. I enjoy participating but watching gives me so much more. It's part of why I went into nursing. I get to watch naked people legally. It's also why I enjoy figure drawing so much. Expectations and surprises.

I sat on my bed and quickly shuffled through the six sketches I'd made. They were quick, more gesture than detail, but my single focus was their genitals, which was also my hand's single focus.

After a few minutes of casual clit circling caresses and pussy probing preparation, I pulled my Magic Wand out of the nightstand drawer and turned onto my stomach. I concentrated on the mental image from the final pose where Ruth rubbed her pussy against John's cock. I switched the vibrator to the low setting and spent a few minutes remembering Ruth and John's simulated sex play.

My thoughts drifted to Michelle on all fours on the model stand, wagging her ass at John and imagining what it would look like to watch his cock slowly slide into her cunt. The very nasty visual of Michelle reaching between her legs to hold John's balls and pull him out of her pussy filled my mind and pushed me over the edge.

My sexual frustrations quieted, and I fell asleep, wishing I hadn't so forcefully told John not to fuck Michelle if she wanted him to. It would have been wonderful to see.

Part 6. Another Sunday breakfast at Tip's with Ruth.

I overslept and was a few minutes late meeting Ruth. She ran out to the car before I could turn it off.

"I was worried something happened and you weren't coming. I've grown closer to you and look forward to talking."

"It's our shared fondness for John that's deepened our relationship."

"John and I talked about our practice yesterday. I wanted to make sure there weren't any problems. He said he couldn't get the thoughts of modeling with Michelle out of his mind and wanted some time alone, which I think is good."

"It sounds good to me too. I hope it goes well Wednesday."

"I should feel guilty for what I've done, but John won't become a monster. I don't want him to become jaded, nor do I want him to fall in lust with me and make stupid decisions limiting his future. Am I making sense?"

"Completely. I don't feel guilty, but I'm wired differently and don't share a living space with John. I'm also much older, and he doesn't think of me that way. I've talked to many people near the end of their lives, and their only regrets were the things they didn't do. I'm closer to the end than you and will gladly take mutually consenting pleasure where I can, provided I don't hurt someone else doing it. I hope I don't come across as a pleasure-seeking predator or that I want to turn you into one."

"Not at all, Myrtle. I only want to ensure John is launched into the world as a fully developed, independent person. Our work these past two weeks has given him a better understanding of his sexuality and how to direct it. I wish I had that self-knowledge at his age. I wouldn't have done anything differently but would have felt more confident and fulfilled."

"Speaking of fulfillment, were you able to relieve your pent-up sexual frustrations yesterday? I enjoyed watching you with John and hope you'll reveal your personal, secret self-pleasuring practices. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"It's a deal, Myrtle. I've never shared this with anyone but Ernie, and he's not here to defend himself. You might not want me to change your brother's image."

"I could tell you Ernie stories that would curl your toes. Nothing you say would alter my love for him or relieve my grief at missing him every day. So, you can't worm out of telling me what you do alone in the dark, under the sheets."

"You accidentally almost pushed John into my favorite sex play yesterday. Before I met Ernie, I'd developed a desire to play with my bottom. Nothing specific started it, except the general self-exploration when we first touch ourselves to explore what feels good."

We'd arrived at Tip's. "Hold that thought, Ruth."

We had the same table as last week. "You look like you've done some serious thinking while we walked in."

"It's complicated. Without the background, telling you what I did last night won't make much sense."

"We're college-educated professionals and can, you know, communicate. If your story's long enough, we'll still be here when the bar opens at ten, and I'll have a Ramus Fizz."

"Remember, you asked for it. Sex with Ernie was always great, but once I'd worked up the courage to tell him my little secret, it exploded to an entirely different level. As we explored my anal desires, I wondered what it would feel like to have my ass and pussy filled simultaneously. Ernie had access to advanced fabricating machines in his job at North American Aviation. He made some stainless steel, brass, and acrylic dildos. My, oh my, they were fun."

Marge, our waitress from last week, arrived. "Welcome back, ladies. I know you'll want coffee, but what else can I bring you?"

I raised my eyebrows and looked to Ruth, silently asking to repeat last week's order, and her nod confirmed. "We'll have the same...."

"Two Old Farm Breakfasts, eggs over easy, one bacon, one sausage, coming right up." Marge completed the order for me.

I laughed. "Thanks, Marge. We're in good hands."

Marge walked away, and Ruth continued. "When Ernie was alive, we had enough hands to push and hold the various things in the different orifices. We could properly agitate everything while inserting, stroking, and licking my important exposed body parts. Since I've had to fly solo, I can't keep things in place while fulfilling my needs. It was frustrating for the first six months, but eventually, I remembered I knew how to sew."

Marge returned with coffee and orange juice, and I could see the frustration in Ruth's eyes; she'd started her story and wanted to keep going. Marge quickly left, but I saw her lingering near the coffee machine behind Ruth at the end of the next booth. She tried hard not to look like she was listening to the conversation.

"I began experimenting with a simple cloth harness. I worked out how to keep the dildo inside one hole while playing with the other. I refined my designs, changed materials, and created some fascinating leather garments. I think they stylishly do the job and give me access to all those parts I desperately want to touch."

"My god, woman. I'm sorry to interrupt, but I had no idea. I must see them, preferably modeled by you."

"I've always felt guilty about my little hobby and wouldn't have mentioned it to you. This past week has brought us so much closer. I'd enjoy showing you, but not until John's modeling is over." She didn't realize she was talking at her normal tone and volume.

"I may not be able to wait that long."

"You'll have to learn to live with disappointment, Myrtle." She coyly smiled at me and continued. "I was worked up after the end of our practice. John went outside to walk around naked, and I went to my room and stripped naked. I got the harness and my two favorite dildos from the closet. Ernie made a locking, in-wall cabinet to protect against probing eyes and fingers, which showed great foresight on his part. I knew John played with my underwear and was glad he couldn't get to these.

"Ernie machined a short anal dildo modeled on those Bakelite rectal spreaders all the rage in hospitals when I was in training. I'd tried a couple back then, but they weren't the right proportions and hurt. I sketched them for Ernie, and he made different versions out of brass. They didn't have the bulb at the end and popped out on their own if I didn't hold it in. This sounds so clinical. Are you interested?"

"I'm spellbound."

She smiled. "If you say so. The other dildo's for my pussy. It's a long, thick, curved piece of stainless steel. I put the thick part inside; it's wide and not too deep. The long, curved extension lets me move it from over my belly. I don't have to reach down awkwardly between my legs. Ernie made many versions of both, and we refined them over time."

Marge tried to minimize her interruption in bringing our meals. "Sorry ladies, last intrusion for a while." Ruth demurely looked down at her coffee cup, waiting. "Wave when you need a refill."

"Thanks, Marge." I looked back to Ruth. "Keep going. She's gone." She wasn't gone but standing at the coffee machine. It was fun watching her listen.

"I've made many different harnesses. Last night I used my simplest creation, designed to keep the dildo in my ass but leave my vulva completely open. It's like John's pouch except made of black leather and no covering. A riveted brass snap opens a thin waist strap with an ass-crack strap sewn at the back, extending to my asshole. Two thinner straps attach to form a 'V' over my asshole, with each strap extending in the crease between my thigh and vulva. My pussy is entirely accessible.

"I have a fetishistic routine to get into position. I took the harness from the closet, unsnapped it, and got on the bed. I watched myself in the mirror over the dresser opposite the footboard. I draped the harness over my ass and hips, smeared KY on my butthole, and pushed the brass boy into my ass."

I needed a breather and waved to Marge for more coffee. Ruth had taken short breaks to take a bite of food but used this time to catch up. Luckily for us, Tip's was nearly empty. Marge didn't have to run around too much, and I didn't feel bad not reminding Ruth to speak more quietly. She returned to her story.

"I quickly snapped the harness closed to keep the dildo in place, fell to my right, and wriggled into the center of the bed and on my pillows back against the headboard. I grabbed my man of steel and, watching myself in the mirror, rubbed his tip in my slit and against my clit. I didn't need any KY and pushed down to watch it disappear into my cunt."

She smiled as she thought and paused for another bite of her breakfast. When she finished eating, she continued. "I moved my left hand to my clit and pressed; I didn't have to circle at all. I came. I was moving the steel dildo inside me to push against the one in my butt, but I was primed to fire. It's your turn."

"I was afraid you'd remember. My time didn't have such an intricate physical component, but I did discover something different. My sexual excitement is watching, not showing. But during the practice session last week, I exposed my tits to John. I wanted to excite him and watch him masturbate. We had our little accident, and afterward, cleaning up in the bathroom, I felt an overpowering lust to be naked. I wanted to enflame John by seeing me. I controlled it then.

"Yesterday, when I got home, I didn't control it. Before opening the kitchen door, I stripped off and walked back to my car. I walked around the parlors, opened the curtains, and hoped someone would see me. I almost walked out in the front yard. My sixty-year-old body isn't the visual delight yours is, but I felt something I'd never felt before."

"I'm surprised you wanted me to practice with John yesterday."

"This is all new to me, Ruth. I wanted to watch you and John fuck. I couldn't resist pushing you, but not all the way."

"I appreciate it, but I needed more control at the end than I expected. Finish your story."

"If you insist, but there's not much left. Naked, I walked upstairs and looked at the drawings I made of the longer, sexual poses you two did. I rubbed myself, thinking how close you came to fulfilling my fantasy. I grabbed my Magic Wand, turned on my stomach, and pressed it into my clit. Thoughts of you and John blended into John and Michelle, and I went over the edge."

Ruth looked puzzled. "What's a Magic Wand?"

I smiled. "It's a vibrator. I'd overheard Gus at the hospital talking, and I was intrigued. They started importing them three or four years ago, and I found one last Christmas."

"Interesting. I'll have to try one." She reached across the table to touch my forearm. "And it's so nice you thought of me that way in your fantasy. At least you'll see Michelle and John together Wednesday and Friday. Michelle will only tease John, though."

"She's a professional model, but we have practice sessions and fantasies. What time is it? I overslept and forgot my watch."

"It's ten fifteen. Time flies when we're having fun."

"I don't feel like going home yet. I'll pay, and we can move to the bar. One drink, some shop talk, and we'll leave."

We'd been sitting in the bar overlooking the Santa Clarita River, talking hospital stuff, when Marge walked in, spotted us, and came over. "Glad I caught you two. I finished my shift. Been here since two this morning."

She looked like she wanted to talk. "We work graveyard too. Care to join us? I'm Myrtle, and this is my sister-in-law, Ruth."

"Thanks. Nice to meet you." She pulled another chair to the table.

"If a drink won't put you to sleep, can I get you one?"

She burst into a broad smile. "I'd love one, thanks." She turned to the bar. "Bobby, a Bloody Mary, please."

"How long have you worked here? I think I remember you from a few years ago when my nephew and I would stop for breakfast on the way to Pearblossom for soaring lessons."

"I've been here twelve years and remember you and your nephew. Glad you found your way back."

Her Bloody Mary arrived, and we chatted about flying lessons, the earthquake, and the uncontrolled housing growth. I sensed Marge had something else she wanted to ask. Her drink provided courage.

"I hope you aren't too pissed at me, but I couldn't help overhearing some of you all's conversation at breakfast."

Ruth gave me a mildly shocked expression. "I knew you could overhear, and I encouraged Ruth to keep talking. There weren't any other customers around our table, and I couldn't help it. I like to challenge people. I'm trying to draw her out of her shell."

"Just to be clear, I'm not a lezzy or anything and don't care what a person does in their own home. It's been three years since I divorced my cheating ex-husband, and the kind of guys I meet here aren't worth the effort. Believe me; I've tried to make an effort. A girl gets lonely, and by that, I mean horny." She took another swallow of her drink.

"I understand what you're saying. My husband died two years ago, and what you overheard was how I've come to cope."

Marge downed her last swallow. "I've found a couple of regular, you know, dildos I play with." She looked down and blushed when she said the word. "And like you, I don't have enough hands to take care of everything. Your harness would solve those problems, you know, down there. I can't sew worth shit, though, and wouldn't know how to tell someone else how to make one. What I'm trying to get at is, could you make me one of your harnesses, like what you talked about."

Ruth looked around the bar. It was empty. "It's my turn to thank you, Marge, for being brave enough to talk and trusting me to help with your problem. I want to be clear; you'd like a leather harness to hold a dildo in your bottom and let you touch your vulva, unrestricted?"

She blushed again but didn't look away this time. "That's right. Leather sounds like it would clean up easy, too."

"Yes, it does, but let me play devil's advocate. You can get rectal spreading kits at medical supply stores. They stay in place without a harness. I couldn't use them, but you might."

"I wish I could tell you I hadn't tried it, but I'd be lying. I like big things up there, but the big plugs won't stay when I come. I'm sure you can imagine the frustration of building up to a climax and having the damned thing shoot out your ass and across the room. Broke a good mirror with that episode."

I couldn't help it and started laughing. "I'm sorry I'm laughing. That's the funniest thing I've heard since I accidentally sucked off my nephew while giving him nude modeling lessons."

The drinks were responsible more than the comedy, but we all started howling. "I did hear some of what you were saying, and I could tell it involved your nephew. I wish I could find a young stud to play with, but I only have nieces, and like I said, that's not my thing."

We calmed down, and Ruth continued. "Okay, then. Trust me, Marge, the harness will take care of your problem. You need to think this through; they are custom-made and fit. Leather isn't elastic, and I'll have to get exact measurements so it will fit your body perfectly. I'm a nurse, of course, but this isn't a medical procedure. It does involve intimate contact."

"I wax my snatch and ass. Well, my cosmetologist does it. If you don't try any funny stuff, I can handle it."

"This week is too complicated. Let me think it over and figure out what I'll need to get. We're making our Sunday breakfast at Tip's a weekly outing, so if you're working next week, I can bring my harness so you can see it, and we'll go from there."

"I work on Sunday, fifty weeks a year." Marge took a deep breath. "That wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Thanks for suggesting the drink, Myrtle. It made all the difference. Let me get these this time. I get an employee discount."

We hugged and exchanged telephone numbers. The mid-day heat in the parking lot was a stunning contrast to the air-conditioned restaurant. Ruth and I waved to Marge as we drove away.

"That was different—another benefit of being open to honest communication and new experiences. Maybe you could bring some of your other harnesses next week. Butt play isn't my favorite thing to receive, but I can think of circumstances where I might like to give it."

"I have something to fill your order. My lips are sealed until Sunday, though."

We had an uneventful drive to Ruth's with curbside goodbyes and good wishes until we'd see each other later at work. After a twenty-minute drive, I was home. Still feeling abuzz from all the sex talk this morning, I decided to be bold, stripped my clothes beside the van, took the house keys, left everything else, and walked to my kitchen door. I had time for play and then a long nap and work.

Part 7. National Get Nude Day, July 14, 1971.

I puttered around the house Wednesday afternoon, anxiously anticipating John and Michelle's modeling session. I heard the knock and opened the kitchen door. "Hi, Myrtle. After our talk on Sunday, I'd hoped to see more of you when you opened the door."

"Hello, Ruth, and I was hoping you'd wear one of your creations. Wait a minute while I get my things."

I locked the door, and we were on our way. "How's John holding up?"

"He's anxious and excited and spent a lot of time in his room. I haven't seen much of him. When I came home this morning, I saw him outside, nude, of course, and holding poses we practiced Sunday. It took some restraint on my part to not join him."

"I'm so excited to see what happens. I'm glad you came early; I want to ensure we get my favorite spot."

I parked the van next to John's car, and we walked to the studio. The four older students, including Betty, were already setting up. Neither John nor Michelle was on the stage or in the room. "Our two easels are free. Which do you want?"

"Since you like to watch, I'll take the farthest." Ruth sat at the front left corner of the model stand. I was two feet closer to the middle.

The door leading to the changing room opened. Doris appeared, scanned the room, and hurried straight to us. She directed her words to me but acknowledged Ruth.

"This is terrible, Myrtle. Michelle called half an hour ago and canceled. She said it was a family emergency and might be back on Friday, but I suspect she's had second or third thoughts about modeling with John. It sounded exciting in theory, but as the time neared, the reality became too much. I completely accept her decision either way. If she feels the slightest discomfort, I support her saying no."