Open Invitation

I open the drapes, knowing I'm shielded from the street by the lattice, blushing as I think of the open invitation I put online for anyone to be in my yard tonight. I'm glad I turned the light on first, I cannot see who might be outside on my patio. I know I've cleaned it recently as part of my usual routine each week, but I intend to do so again tonight, partially because I feel the need to cool my forehead against it. Breathing deep as I do so, feeling my heat radiating into the cool night. If anyone is out there, it's probably clear to them that I'm nervous as hell right now. I think about reaching for the glass cleaner...then think again, I know the other panel is still squeaky clean, and my bed is right in front of it...I might as well have fun streaking this side up.

Not even opening my eyes as I turn to press my cheek to the glass, my hands dropping to my thighs, then brushing up over my stomach slowly, by the time they reach the bottom of my breasts, the tops of them are pressed firmly against the glass, yet another portion of my body radiating heat much more efficiently. I know I'm not fully visible to the outside when pressed against the glass like this, it's something like a dark silhouette where I press, lit up at the edges and visible where arched away to where the light can reflect off the glass onto my skin. My fingers massage the soft flesh through the fabric, bringing my nipples to peaks that are visible even through my clothes. I begin to pluck at the buttons that run down my lavender blouse, letting it drop open an inch at a time, revealing the white lace of my bra that stands out against my skin, only a few shades of difference except where my nipples peek out, a dusky rose color. My hands peel the blouse off my shoulders and drop it to the floor, then land on my hips. I roll to press my back to the glass now, my fingers following the waistband of my dark knee length skirt, searching out the zipper at my hip, glancing at the darkness beyond the glass before I pull it down and let the fabric slide down my thighs to reveal the equally black panties.

Was that movement? I thought it was...just at the edge of the pool of light falling out of my room. I shake my head, clearing the thought out of my mind. It doesn't matter, just because I put out an ad that said when I put on a show to my yard each night doesn't mean that there's an audience this time...it's only been a few hours since I put it up. I breath again, turning my gaze toward my room, the cold glass against my back helping me anchor my senses as they try to swim. I drop my head back against it to press another point of skin against it before I undulate my body away, then toward the glass. Pressing my arms back against the glass again cools me, my heated sweaty palms sliding against it, leaving smears. The thought that the movement might really have been there gives me trepidation, and yet thrills through me, giving me reason to step away from the glass, padding bare foot across to the bed, crawling onto it, my hips swaying the entire way.

I flash a smile over my shoulder as I kneel up in the center of the fluffy comforter, my hands snaking up my back, popping open the hooks on the back of my bra. I disentangle it from my shoulders and drop it off the side of the bed, sprawling out on my side, my back still to the window. Teasing my hand up my thigh, over my hip, plucking at the waistband of my panties, then up my side to cup my breast. Rolling to my back as my other hand joins the first on my chest, massaging the soft flesh until my nipples harden into peaks. A moan escapes my lips, and my eyes close, I forget the open curtains and all that exists are my hands. The graze over my skin, the temperature rising now that I'm not pressed against the heat sink of cool glass. They dip down past my stomach, over my hips, my knees rise in the air while my fingers dance over my thighs, then tease against my pussy through the thin fabric. My head drops back entirely, mouth agape as my hands slide to my hips again, peeling away the last item. They stick to my wet lips a moment before I lift my legs and drag the panties up past my head to pull them off. I drop the leg closest to the window down to the bed, the other foot drops near my knee so that it stays half raised. My hands glide over my head and neck, down my chest, one pausing there to trace figure eights between my breasts, the other continuing down between my thighs to cup my heat.

I can't help the sounds that escape me then, my fingers take on a life of their own, tracing my lips, spreading them, flowing over the inner folds into my depths, finding the moisture there. Swirling through it and smearing it over my inner lips, dragging enough up to coat the soft tissue just beneath my clit. Circling there, teasing myself, edging closer with each revolution until I just barely brush against the tight bundle of nerves. A gasp escapes me and I arch off the bed, my hips rising into the air to buck toward nothing. My fingers continue to dance, now circling my clit, then dipping into my depths for a few strokes, gathering moisture to drag back up to the sensitive nub, keeping it wet and throbbing. I undulate atop the covers, juices dripping down onto them while my motions skew them. I can't stand it any more and I roll toward the windows, facing them fully, my fingers plunging into my pussy, palm making soft slapping sounds against my clit, then grinding. My eyes fly open, staring lustfully at the dark window as I let out a hoarse moan of pleasure, juices squirting down my thighs. I wonder when my mouth became so dry before my vision fades out.

Coming to, I'm not sure whether I just closed my eyes or whether I laid there for a while... I glance at the clock and I can guess that it has been a while as I doubt I spend that much time squirming in front of the window. I turn toward it, crawl up off the bed, and walk, now shamelessly toward the window, doubting there is anyone there. I spray the place where I squirmed against the glass, leaving sweat and skin oil smears on it. Swiping it with a cloth I stare out into the darkness and wonder if anyone was there or I imagined the movement and the feel of eyes on me. I begin to pull the drapes, narrowing the pool of light on the patio, but before I draw them completely closed I reach for the switch and flick it on, just out of curiosity.

(I've yet to decide whether someone is there and if so, what state of mind or dress they are in)