The Voyeur

I was surprised when the video tumbled out from the back of the video cabinet. I know that sounds strange, after all aren't video cabinets the place you'd expect to find a video? But it was hidden behind the sex videos we had collected. It was in a bright green box, one I hadn't seen before, so I knew right away that you must have put it there. So of course I slipped it into the video player to see what was on it. Maybe I shouldn't have, perhaps I should have called you to ask you what was on it. But I didn't, I just went ahead and watched it.

Had you been down the hall in the study, then I would have asked you. But you weren't, you were away with work again. Which was why I was fishing around amongst our porn collection in the first place. You'd been away for a week, I was horny and was going to watch some porn and relieve my tensions. So I found it. It wasn't until some time later that I realised that your chosen hiding place was quite deliberately selected. That you had realised that I would be looking there, looking for a tape when I was horny and alone. Clever I suppose.

So I sat on the coffee table and flicked it on, saw static and was about to hit the fast forward switch when the static vanished and was replaced with a close-up of you. You were standing only a foot or so from the camera, then you stepped back and smiled into it. You looked great, dressed to kill in your best going out clothes, gold mesh top, black pants, high black shoes. Our bed was behind you, and I realised that the camera had to be sitting on the dresser. The bed was the centre of the on screen image, and I smiled as I realised that this tape may be far better than the one I had intended to watch. I moved to the couch and loosened my pants, settling against the cushions.

You turned to the bed and pulled back the doona, dropping it onto the floor in a neat stack at the foot of the bed. You pulled the sheet back and then looked across at the camera. A slight frown flickered across your face and you walked towards me, filling the screen again and I could see your arm reach out behind the camera as though you were adjusting something. You looked satisfied with whatever it was you had done and with another wink you left the room.

I sat watching the empty room, nothing happening and wondered if that was it. Had you started to make an electronic letter for me, been interrupted and left it for another time? Perhaps that was why the tape was hidden, perhaps it wasn't finished yet and I wasn't supposed to see it. I hit the fast forward button, and finally after ten minutes you reappeared. You weren't alone. He was tall and rangy, snug fitting jeans, expensive looking brown leather boots that tapered to a fine point. He wore a crisp white long sleeved shirt which accented his deep tan. He appeared clean shaven yet his dark hair and eyebrows seemed to give him an unshaven look. His hair was pulled back into a pony tail and hung between his shoulders.

You didn't look over at the camera and my stomach jumped as I realised that it was hidden. You had been adjusting - well, whatever it was that you were using to hide the camera. I felt a stab of jealousy as he leaned towards you and you tilted your head back to offer him your lips. His mouth was gentle, lips parting just a small amount as you kissed. His arms slipped around you and caressed your bare back, the movement of his hands pulling slightly at the glo-mesh top and making small pearls of golden light dance around the room, bouncing from the walls and ceiling.

Your hand reached down and pulled his hips against you, your fingers kneading the firm buttocks under the denim. His mouth opened more and I saw his tongue dart forward wetly, then your mouths were pressed firmly together, his hand dropping to cup your buttocks. His fingers were long and almost delicate, his hands large and they covered the whole of each of your cheeks. Unable to tear my eyes away I felt my erection growing and I had to adjust my seating position to regain my comfort.

Your hand had slipped between your bodies and they pulled at the front of his shirt, then the back, until it was untucked and hung loosely. Your hands disappeared under the white material and I could imagine them stroking his stomach. Slowly your fingers unbuttoned his shirt, starting at the bottom, revealing a strong stomach and chest which you stroked, then leaned forward to kiss.

His hands had moved up to your back again and were stroking the flesh of your back. I watched, as he did, looking down at you, as you opened his shirt to reveal his small brown nipple, then your tongue flicked forward and touched it. I saw his eyes close as your tongue ran around and over it, working it into a hard peak. Your teeth gleamed whitely as they gently closed on it, nipping him playfully and I watched as his fingers dug a little deeper into your back.

His fingers ran upwards, through your short hair, feeling its spiky line across the top of your neck, then his fingers found and gripped the bow which held your top in place. He hesitated as though waiting for your permission, and with a smile you turned your back to him, allowing him to loosen the tie. You were facing the camera now, standing at the end of the bed, but still your eyes made no contact with the lens. To me, the audience, it was as though you had forgotten that I was there.

Your top fell forward but you caught it before your breasts were fully revealed, holding it against you until he had released the bottom tie, then you let it slip to the floor and looked back over your shoulder at him. He moved closer and slid his arms around your waist and as he did so you reached upwards and back, your fingers arcing through his hair, pulling the tie loose so that his pony tail seemed to explode into a thick mass. His hands travelled rapidly upwards to find your small, pert breasts, cupping them and I could almost feel their soft flesh as his fingers pushed against them, squeezed your nipples which had already become erect. You twisted your head to the side and he leaned over your shoulder, and again I watched as your mouths met.

I could imagine your tongues entwining, yours darting against his and I slid my hand into my pants as I watched his slide across your stomach and start to unzip yours. I gripped myself and squeezed gently as his fingers deftly loosened your pants and worked them down across your hips, revealing your black "boy's" undies that are trimmed with white. You turned towards him so that you were side on to the camera as he knelt before you and worked your pants off over your shoes, which he left in place. Your mouth was partly open as your breath came in short gasps your head bent forward to watch his mouth roaming across your stomach, his hands sliding upwards along the backs of your legs, his mouth seeking and finding your nipple. His tongue, red and moist lazily flipped up and down across your nipple, ran around it then he sucked it between his lips which pursed as though kissing it.

His left hand slid up the back of your right leg and slid between your thighs to touch you through the tight elastic of your panties. You jumped, then laughed and he looked up at you and smiled. He held your gaze as he rolled your panties from your hips, revealing your neatly waxed pubic hair. He held them for you, allowing you to step out of them, then he stood, kissing you again as he shrugged the shirt from his shoulders and allowed it to slide onto the floor.

You allowed him to lead you to the bed, he pushed you back so that you were lying across the bed, your feet on the floor, legs parted. He knelt between your knees and ran his tongue slowly up your leg, his left hand reaching up to fondle one breast then the other. Finally his mouth descended onto you, his nose burying itself in the black hair between your legs. I saw your back arch as his mouth touched you and in my imagination I tasted you as he did. I started to rub myself harder, again raising my hips to work my pants over my hips. Your eyes were closed and you gripped his body with your legs the muscles in your thighs tensing and then relaxing as you released your grip. He had slipped his right hand under his chin and from its thrusting action I could tell that he had his fingers inside you.

I watched until you had your climax, your back arching, mouth open, small groans and gasps barely audible, then I turned the tape off. I couldn't watch. No more. I pulled my pants pack up and hurriedly fastened the button, then walked from the room onto the balcony. It was dark outside, the lights of the harbour reflecting in the smooth water, the suburbs a series of yellow lights dotting the landscape. The bright light of a landing jet liner illuminated the tree tops far across the water, then disappeared as it touched down. A car roared past far below, the bass of its loud music thumping at me in a steady rhythm. Like the rhythm of his mouth on you, his tongue no doubt probing and swirling around your clit. Even if you were making the video for me, at that point in time you had no idea that I even existed, the pleasure surging through your body would have been all consuming, obliterating thoughts of anything else. I shook my head and tried to focus, but the image of his tongue running around your nipple, of your hands stroking his chest kept forcing itself into my mind.

I walked back inside and made myself a drink, downing it quickly - too quickly. My head swam with images of your naked body writhing on the bed under his mouth and hands. I poured and drank another, then returned to the balcony with a third. I stood staring out across the water, but my eyes saw nothing, my vision dominated by the images trapped in my memory. Angrily I stormed back into the lounge and switched on the television, flicking the play button for the video. My erection was back in full force before the picture had appeared on the television and my anger burnt fiercely. Where was my jealousy, my hatred for this man who was devouring you?

Only now he wasn't devouring you. He stood beside the bed now while you sat looking up at him, your fingers tracing lines across his chest and stomach. Your eyes travelled down his body and stopped their journey at his crotch. You used your left hand to caress the bulge in the denim and I saw his eyes close as it grew larger under your touch. You used your teeth to release his belt buckle, then your fingers struggled with the bright silver button before it yielded and the top of his jeans opened. They had a button fly and I could see his manhood struggling against the constraints of the denim as you slowly popped the buttons one by one, a faint smile on your face betraying the pleasure you were experiencing.

You pulled his jeans open and I could see the surprise on your face as you realised that he wore nothing under his jeans. Your fingers snaked downwards and then returned to my vision gripping his shaft. It was a delicate pink, the head large and smooth, a contrast to the tan colour of his torso. Your lips pursed and you breathed on the head, blowing hot air across it. Your tongue darted out and flicked across it, teasing. Your hands began to pull his jeans down, their tightness requiring the application of some force. His erection bobbed up and down as the jeans slipped downwards and you opened your mouth and slipped the shiny round head between your lips.

With his boots still on you were unable to remove his jeans, and I watched, my own erection throbbing almost painfully as you used your body to push him away from the bed. He moved backwards in reluctant half steps, shuffling to avoid either tripping over or losing your mouth. You squatted in front of him, naked except for the chunky heeled shoes on your feet, the tip of his manhood between your lips a willing prisoner. He lifted each foot in turn and you slipped his boots off, then his jeans so that he was naked, more naked than you.

You remained squatting, the curve of your buttocks only an inch or two from the floor, your breasts jutting forward like twin peaks of feminine sexuality. I slid my pants off, kicking them free this time so that I sat only in my undies. My gaze was riveted to the screen as you began to slowly swallow him, your lips stretching to encompass him. His eyes were shut and his head tilted slightly backwards as your mouth worked him deeper. My view was perfect with you silhouetted to me against the soft background lights of the bedside lamps.

Your head drew back and I could hear the suction noise as he slipped from between your lips, accompanied by a groan from his throat. Your hand slid up and down his shaft which was now slick with your saliva, then he was back inside your mouth again and he began to slowly thrust his hips back and forth. I watched as you stopped moving and allowed him to take you at his own pace. I had slipped my hand inside my undies and was squeezing my length, trying to make the ache in my erection subside a little. We were engaged in a three way competition of wills, me to delay my orgasm, him to resist your oral ministrations and you trying to make both of us come in different ways.

Finally you pulled your head back and released him. You began to stand but he pushed you back onto the bed, flipping you as he did. You were able to draw your knees up so that the lower part of your legs hung over the side of the bed, barely gaining your balance before he thrust himself into you from behind. He gripped his shaft as he directed it into you and you both gasped. Then he used both hands to grab your waist and slammed into you, stroke after stroke. The sounds of your flesh slapping together reached out to me through the television speakers as did your gasps. His large hands slid down and cupped your buttocks, covering them, squeezing your flesh. I squeezed my flesh and watched.

'Slap me.' The first words I had heard. Almost a whisper. I stopped - he stopped - almost indiscernibly, then he began thrusting again. His hand left your buttock and then swung downwards.

WHACK! You squealed and began to thrust against him, your breasts lurching back and forward in time with your movements.

WHACK!

WHACK! Your eyes half shut, the pinkness on your buttock betraying the force of his blows.

WHACK! Then you came, with a long sigh and shuddering as you fought to keep him inside you. Your eyes screwed tightly shut and your mouth open, gasping for breath. He hung on, pulling you onto him as he watched your climax with a faint smile of lust and control on his features. I released myself.

You pulled away and left him standing there, his erection wet and pulsing. You rolled onto your side as the last spasms passed through you. He knelt on the bed and ran his hand over your body, along your curved waist, across your breast. Then you sat up and pushed him down, his feet towards me and positioned yourself over him. I gasped as you reached down and guided him into you again, I could just discern your lips stretching to accommodate his size, your body arched backwards as you began to ride him, letting him come almost all the way out before plunging back down onto him. Your breasts heave as you lean back, supporting your weight on his chest with your hands behind you, trapping him underneath you. Your legs shake at the effort of holding you in position, the shoes indenting deeply into the bed.

I am close to coming now, my hand squeezing the head of my erection in long squeezes, delaying the inevitable. His hands reach around and cup your breasts, pushing them together as his hips thrust towards you. It can't be long now, his movements becoming jerky as he begins to lose control. I watch as you slam down on him and begin to run your hips back and forth, pleasuring yourself along the top of his hard shaft. Your eyes are half shut and with your black shoes on you look wanton and I am again reminded that at that moment you have forgotten about me or the camera. I hear his climax start with a deep roar issuing from his throat. His hands grip your waist and he bucks upwards. You are in too much control and jerk backwards, allowing him to slide from you. You reach down and grab him with one hand, running your closed fingers back and forth along his length, directing the sudden burst of white semen upwards. It arcs up and then drops down onto his thighs, the next falls back onto your abdomen and each successive, smaller fountain finds a target indiscriminately. I can see your hands slick with his come and then watch as your eyes look up and straight at mine, a wicked smile fixed on your face. As you wipe his seed onto your breasts I come, my seed spurting high enough to hit my cheek, then my neck and down across my stomach, sticky between my fingers and across my groin.

The image fades to black, edited by you. I close my eyes and slip into semi-consciousness, partly reliving the video made for an audience of one (perhaps two) while my rational side tries to recall when you will be home. I miss you.