The Man In the Gap

In all the time we had been playing we had only missed three or four evenings, probably two each so I was feeling devastated when he didn't show up for over a week. The first couple of times were ok and understandable as it had happened before. But as I dressed for him in my showing outfits and went and stood by the window rather pathetically gazing at the gap and not seeing him I began to feel desperate.

There were so many questions: Was that it? Had he got what he wanted from me and from our performances? Had he found another exhibitor, maybe one where it was more one to one, without the additional audience that the flats surrounding mine produced? I felt so let down. Had my near lover diched me? Had we split up before I showed him my 'crown jewels'? Had he rejected me before we had sex?

Religiously each day I was at my window just before dusk with the uplighter on and the glass of wine, but the gap wasn't filled for nine days. After five or six days I began giving up.

I felt like I had when I was younger and guys had given me up, rejected, desolate, bemused and hurt.

But then on a Wednesday he was there. The terrible ten days vanished. My heart pounded with joy and arousal; I was on a sexual high. I almost opened the window and asked if he would like to come in and make love to me. But I didn't, that was not allowed, the rules of the game didn't permit it and instead we exchanged waves and smiles.

He ran his hand over his chest and I did the same. He inclined his head and raised his eyebrows. What did he mean, what did he want?

I cupped my breasts. He nodded and smiled but raised his eyebrows again.

I got it, I understood, I knew what he wanted. Just like two lovers, words weren't necessary. I took hold of one of the thin spaghetti straps of the white, sleeveless top and slid it off my shoulder so that it hung down my arm and I looked at him. He nodded in agreement and nodded towards the other strap. I slid that off and looked at him again. He nodded again and once more demanded more by raising his eyebrows, nodding, clenching his hands into fists and running both down his chest. I knew immediately what he meant. He wants my breasts, I thought. He wants to see them. My lover wants his rightful dues. He deserved them, after all he has brought us to this wonderful state of wordless, distant sex. I have followed him but he created it, he converted me and he has led the way.

I took hold of the neckline of the thin garment and stared intently into his eyes. With my heart pounding as rapidly as my nipples that were as hard as I could remember them I eased it down the swell of my breasts, onto my nipples then down the underside and off my breasts to bunch it round my waist. I thrust them forward as if saying there you are, they are yours take them. He smiled and nodded his head several times before raising one arm upwards. I did the same, he raised his other a little way. Now I knew his body semaphore and I raised both my arms Above my head until they were almost at full stretch. That tightened each boob and pulled them up making them look as they had in my thirties.

He wasn't finished and I thought this might be the 'date' when he makes me get naked or when we have sex. But I was wrong, it was neither. This was all about my tits, his tits, our tits. He made me bend to near ninety degrees at the waist so they dangled down. He opened his mouth as if taking my nipple into it, he made licking gestures with his tongue. I held them out to him so that he could kiss each breast and suck and chew each nipple. I pinched the nipples and held a breast up and licked it for him.

I was rewarded with smiles and gestures and then he was gone.

I was so up, so high, the buzz was incredible as I went to my bedroom and masturbated imagining he wasn't between the gap at the end of the garden but in the one between my legs. Boy did he fuck me well, but then I was using the thick, black vibrator I had recently bought online to simulate actual sex.

Then sod it that night the rains came. Heavy and almost all day for three days. Too much to walk the poor dog or to leer at me although I was ready. I was dressed for my lover, dressed to undress, dressed to show all yes, dressed to be fucked. No bra, no knickers, a dress not jeans, loose, nipple outline showing top. But to no avail, the gap wasn't filled and I wasn't fulfilled for three days. Even my daily post show masturbation lost its zest.

Then on the Friday the sun came out and at just after six he was in the gap. Looking, staring, ogling and indicating. I was nervous. More so than usual. Why? Was this it, my big show, my nakedness? Was he going to fuck me? I didn't know, it wasn't my part to decide that was my looker's job, his job. He made the decisions and I carried them. That's how it was, how we wanted it. He was the dom in this distant love affair, I was the sub.

I was wearing a white dress, nothing else, well apart from my fetish, heels of course. It had small lapels and the hem was mid-thigh, about eight inches above my knees. I had bare legs and feet with scarlet painted toenails in four-inch killer, strappy sandals. Made from a fairly thin material so that my prominent nipples even unaroused made clear indentations it was opaque so that my areola weren't on show. It had press studs two or three inches apart all the way up the front. Silver ones that needed just a modest pull to open them. Three at the top and three up from the hem were open. It would take little effort for them all to be open and my nudity be shown to my lover.

I wanted that. I knew it now, for sure. I wanted him to see me, I wanted to show him my body and have him leer at me taking in my breasts albeit with their slight sag, my slight mumtum, hairless mound, glistening lips, full, taut thighs, shapely calves and feet in the strappy high heels.

Would I masturbate for him if he asked? I didn't know. I wanted to but then I wanted to most of the time especially when I was thinking about him and me showing and him looking or after he had. Oh those masturbations were so special, so strong, quick to start but long to carry on and so powerful. I was becoming addicted to them, I couldn't get enough. They had taken the place of my friend with benefits, they were now my sex life as my man in the gap had become my only lover.

The dress was an instant hit with him. He smiled and gave me a thumbs up when he saw it. I didn't need instructions, I knew what to do, I knew what he wanted because it was what I wanted too, what we both wanted.

I pushed my breasts out and turned to my left and then to my right so he saw the fullness of them and the erectness of my nipples. I turned my back on him and stood for a minute or so and then slowly bent forward until I was ninety degrees at the waist. My arse was looking at him and he was staring at that and at my slightly parted legs. The skirt had ridden up and his gaze burned into my thighs. How far could he see I wondered. The tops of them? My cheeks? Between my upper legs? Maybe more, maybe everything, maybe my most womanly place. Could he see my lips? Did he want to? Yes of course he did all men want to, all men want to see their lover's cunt.

I straightened up and turned back to look at him? We stared at each other for some time. Did he know I was naked under it? Would he guess? Yes of course he would. The way the thin material moulded to my curves, the way it snuggled to my breasts, outlined and emphasised my nipples that were clearly illustrating my arousal. My arousal for him and what I was doing for him. Was he aroused I wondered momentarily? Was he hard for me? I wanted him to be. At that moment I would have done anything to see and have his cock. Against me, across my cheeks, on my lips, between my breasts, pressing into my tummy and against my clit that was pounding with want as I imagined it sliding up inside me.

He was staring, but then he always did though now there seemed to be greater intensity to it. It was as if he knew we were reaching a seminal moment. A time when he would see all, I would display everything I had for him and a time when he might fuck me. I knew it, he now knew it and we both knew it.

He was gesturing with his hands for me to open the dress, to pop the press studs and pull it apart. He knew I would as he knew I would do whatever he wanted and demanded. He knew that I would because he knew that I wanted to. He must have done this before. Control women, make them do what he desired, get them to expose themselves to him as I was now. It was like a professional playing an amateur a well-established player against a newcomer.

He was waving his hands as an indicator for me to hurry up. Was he on a time limit? Maybe he did have a partner and dinner was at a certain time? He seemed always to stay no more than fifteen minutes or so. I had no control over the length of the performance. As everything he did over that.

I pulled one open so I showed more of each breast and my cleavage, then another so the dress was open to the bottom of my cleavage but the side were still together. He shook his hand in mock or real annoyance and gesticulated for me to open it. I popped another so it was open almost to my waist. He made as if to grasp either side of the dress on his chest and yank it wide open indicating, instructing me to do as he did. And of course, I did. I pulled the dress open and popped the remaining two or three press studs. I showed him everything. He stared and then slowly clapped as he took in my tits, mound and labia. I opened my legs to give him a better view. He opened his eyes wider, smiled, clapped again then slowly he and his dog strolled out of my view.

After my 'full Monty' display he didn't show for a couple of days. Although it wasn't unusual I still worried and fretted especially when I stood looking at the gap scantily dressed or, as I did the second night, naked.

Of course, I was questioning whether we had finished and I asked myself did I want that? My actions were becoming more outrageous, he was making me push things and I felt out of control. I knew that I was under his spell. He was like a Svengali to me. How far would he take me? I was so torn. The sexual highs and buzz I got from this affair were like nothing I had experienced before and of course I wanted more. But I likened it to what I had read about heroin addicts. They know it's a disaster waiting to happen but the rush is so appealing it overrides all else.

I just wore bra and knickers the third night. A sinful black bra and thong set. The bra was a last year model and was half a size too small so my tits looked as though they were tumbling out of it as indeed they were really. I was nervous waiting for him as after my fully naked performance there was really only one place to go now. Only one further act, one further thing to do. As in a real affair we had done the foreplay and completed the preliminaries. My lover had seen my breasts alone a few days ago and last time he had seen all of me. I had given him everything I had. My tits, my nipples, my bum, my thighs, my mound and my pussy. All were his. There was no more to give, no more to reveal, no more to show him. There was just one more action. As in real life we had got to the point where there was just one more deed to be done between us. That was to make love me.

I moved an upright chair into the window beside where I stood waiting for him. I had relaxed now, actually a five pm glass of wine had done that and I felt confident he would be there. In the distance I saw his dog and then I knew he would be there, he would see me, he would look at me. Yes, he would watch me masturbate as both of us knew what that really was and that was two lovers fucking.

He smiled broadly when he saw what I was wearing. He raised his hand in one of those salutes that the royal family tend to use; a lazy lifting of the upper arm while the lower part remains by the side. I wasted little time. The ten to fifteen minutes he allowed me didn't leave much time for ancillary activities, it really was get to the main performance ASAP so I did.

I took my bra off and did my usual moving round while cupping and squeezing my boobs but added something I wasn't sure whether I had done for him before. Holding my right breast in both hands I lifted it up and turned so that the nipple was pointing slightly upwards. Then bending my neck as far as I could I Iicked it and looked at him. He again raised his hands and blew me a kiss as he smiled broadly and raised his eyebrows. His appreciation of my piece de resistance thrilled me and encouraged me to go for the big one. To go all the way. It buoyed me up to reach the decision I had been contemplating and mulling over.

I pulled the chair closer to the window in fact as close as I could get it. Then looking directly at him I took my knickers off. Nothing that showy, just a slow sliding down my legs to around my ankles then kicked away to be retrieved later. I turned so he could see my arse walked back into the room picked it up then returned to centre stage in the window. Turning to face him I showed him what I was holding and that produced an even broader smile and applause. It was the black, long, thick and shiny vibrator. Raising my eyebrows and holding my hands out towards him, palms up asking if I should produced a vigorous nodding of the head from him.

This was it, the culmination, where everything we had done so far had been leading. He wants to fuck me. I guess that was inevitable, well had been inevitable all along. I had wanted it almost from the start and, of course, it was his right, his reward and my gift and payment to him.

He wants to watch me making myself cum. Climaxing by jerking off, masturbating and fucking myself and I want, no need to do that for him, that's my duty.

I turned the vibrator on not realising for a moment or two that he wouldn't hear its seductively sexual buzz. I ran it across my nipples and each breast and then pushed them together and rather awkwardly managed to titty fuck myself. It was a lovely sensation from the vibrator and a wonderful feeling to see his appreciation. He touched his stomach and ran his hand downwards indicating for me to use the vibrator on myself down there. A symbolic gesture to imply that he wanted to enter me, penetrate me, go in me and yes fuck me.

I sat down on the chair with my legs closed and ran it over my tummy and thighs. It was lovely. I pushed it down between my closed thighs so that it throbbed against my clit. Leaving it there I removed my hand and fondled both breasts at the same time. I was getting near. Those familiar indications of an impending orgasm were building up. I knew I would cum, that my vibrator, my surrogate cock would make me cum. That my watching lover would fuck me to a powerful orgasm.

Holding the vibrator again I looked at him and opened my legs a little way and then closed them again as I looked at him. He spread his legs. I got his message and opened mine as I lay back in the chair. His huge smile and appreciative applause were my reward. I opened them further displaying my soaked lips to him as I teased the black vibrator along their pinkness. I knew I wouldn't last, that was impossible. After all we had done, a long, lingering, languid fuck was not what was required. He was indicating to me to push it inside me and at that moment there was nothing more in the world that I wanted other than to be fucked, so I did. Slowly and surely, relishing every centimetre that it went up me I pushed the surrogate cock up my welcoming wetness.

The sheer act of pushing the two inches thick vibrator into me stimulated me enormously but when I turned it on and heard and felt that wonderful buzzing sound I felt as though my entire lower stomach would explode. Continuing with the vibrating, I pinched my nipples and squeezed each breast as I started pushing the plastic phallus up and down inside me. The sensation was so intense that I had to fight to keep my eyes open to see my lover's expression as our relationship came to its natural and inevitable conclusion.