tagExhibitionist & VoyeurWeekend Work: Watching Her

Weekend Work: Watching Her


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This is the first of a two-part story. Each story recounts the same event; this story told from his point of view, and the other story from her perspective. Pick your preference, or read both. Hope you enjoy, Annie O.
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Weekend Work: Watching Her

I had just mowed the lawn and was rounding the far corner of the house to fetch the rake, when I looked down through our basement window and saw my wife sitting at her computer. Normally, I wouldn't have given it a second glance, since my wife, a freelance journalist, spends most of her time in her "office" in our converted basement working at her computer. But what caught my eye was that she was looking at porn.

I crept to the window and peered in. After a couple of minutes, she eased back in her desk chair and let her left hand slide across her chest and slowly begin to caress. She squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples. They became hard, and poked through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. As she continued massaging her breasts with one hand, she lowered her right hand. She unsnapped her shorts and slipped her hand down inside--her legs spread a little and her back automatically arched to meet her touch.

For a moment, I considered coming into the house. Clearly, she was turned on and had sex on her mind. But somehow it seemed perfectly private--as if she was lost in her own moment, and needed no one's interruption.

She paused her caresses for a moment to pull off her t-shirt and wiggle out of her shorts. The sight of her naked, in front of her computer, watching porn, excited me. My cock began to harden and strain against my own shorts. I could not help but rub myself a little as I continued to gaze down through the window.

I have looked at online porn myself, I'll admit. I find it sexy and it turns me on almost immediately. Likewise, I had always hoped my wife would enjoy porn, and even share it with me. I even once went down to her computer to search the browser history, and hoped, secretly, to find that she'd visited some sexy sites. To my disappointment, it all seemed work related, and a few sites for cooking recipes. I had given up. Perhaps too easily.

As the porn continued to play on her computer, she slid her finger up and down the length of her folds, stopping at her clit to let her finger circle for a moment. Then sliding her finger down, she began to squirm a little, teasing herself. Making herself ready. I watched as she dipped her finger inside her, just a little and pulled it out. The tip was wet and gleaming with her juices. She then slipped it into her mouth, and tasted her excitement.

As she sucked her own finger, she coated it in saliva. Then she lowered her now lubricated finger and pressed it deep inside her. She began to work it in and out, rubbing her clitoris with her other hand. She began to moan as she added a second finger.

After a few minutes, she paused. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a key. Then she walked over to her filing cabinet, unlocked it, and pulled out the bottom drawer. Reaching far into the back, behind a stack of old files, she retrieved a cardboard box, about the size of a shoebox, the type that would arrive from Office Depot or Amazon and hold printer ink, or office supplies. From the box, she pulled out a slender pink vibrator. This surprised me. I had no idea she owned a vibrator. Although I had snooped on her computer, I had never dug through her work desk or unlocked any locked files. To me, that seemed to cross the line of privacy. Her workspace seemed as professional as any office.

Often she'd get shipments at our home. I never once questioned them. Maybe she had ordered more office paper, pens, blank media, books, or whatever else she used for her office. I never would have guessed in one of those boxes might have been the pink vibrator.

She eased back into her chair and gently pressed the toy to her glistening pussy, at first rubbing its tip up and down the length of her slit several times until settling in on her clit. She then arched back, her eyes shut. She began shaking and I could tell it was the start of the first of many small orgasms to come. Through the window, I could hear the buzzing of the vibrator.

By now I was stoking my cock. She continued staring at her computer monitor, and inserted the pink vibrator into herself and began slowly pushing it in and out. Her head was tilted back and she was smiling, a look of relaxation and bliss.

After a few moments, she pulled the vibrator out of her wetness, turned it off, and set it beside her. She reached for the cardboard box and pulled out a large purple jelly dildo.

It seemed like a dream, as I watched her ease back into her office chair. She set her feet onto the desk and spread her legs wide--giving me an unobstructed view.

Once in position, she put the head of the floppy 10-inch jelly dildo at the opening of her wet pussy. She can't possibly fit that inside her, I thought. She corkscrewed the tip of the dildo at her entrance, pushing down with both hands. It strained at first, bending rather than entering. Then, as if her body suddenly opened, it popped in. Slowly, but beautifully, she slid the head of the toy into her. As the head slowly disappeared, she bit her lip in obvious pleasure, and maybe even a little pain. Then she pushed another inch in, and then another, and another until about half of the fake cock was buried deep inside her.

With the jelly dildo snug inside her, she no longer needed to hold it with both hands. She then reached for the pink vibrator. She turned it back on and applied it to her clit--all the while keeping her eyes glued to the monitor.

As she watched the porn on the computer, she held the purple dildo inside her, as her hips rocked to force it in and out of her in a slow, steady thrusting motion. With her other hand, she pressed the pink vibrator to her clit. She fucked her toy; in and out, in and out.

My hand was firmly on my hardness, matching her tempo.

She began to moan deeply over the buzzing of the vibrator and the audio from the porn. Deeper into her, the jelly dildo stretched her fully and with each pull back, her pussy contracted and slurped. Then she'd ram it back home, this time to the hilt, taking every inch she could.

She was wriggling so much in her chair it looked like she could be bucked out of it. Her breasts were flopping now as her hand worked the dildo inside her in long deliberate strokes all the way in and all the way out. Over and over she fucked herself with the dildo with the vibrator pressed firmly on her clit. She was ready now, with one final thrust of the dildo, she threw her head back in the abandon of orgasm.

As she came, I too shot my load.

She laid there for several minutes, her face relaxing, washed in a glow of sweat. Her chest heaving and then slowly returning to normal. Her skin was flushed, damp, the toy still buried deep insider her.

I continued to massage my cock and balls as I drained my very last drops, until she finally stood up, braced her wobbly knees, and then left with her two toys, probably to the bathroom.

My last image was of the empty room—the computer still on. I wondered what video she had watched, what site, and if there were more. The box, still open, and the file cabinet unlocked. I wondered what other toys she might have.

I knew now where she hid her key. Would I dare look? Would I give into curiosity, or let her retain her own private playtime?

I didn't have those answers at that moment. I was still aroused, still shocked, and still had work to do. I slowly backed away from the window and continued on my mission for the rake.

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