The View From My Window

It had been cold and threatening all day, with heavy gunmetal-grey clouds lurking overhead.  As I was walking home from work it started to snow.  Big wet flakes that melted as soon as they made contact with the pavement.  Soon there was a layer of slush on the sidewalk that soaked right through my canvas sneakers and stockings, chilling my feet straight through to the bone.

I was already feeling blue.  It was November, coming up to Thanksgiving, which meant that it was dark when I left for work in the morning, and it was dark when I went home at night.  My job was boring, I was dirt-poor, and I lived alone in a crappy old ex-industrial apartment five floors up in a really crappy part of Brooklyn.  This wasn’t really what I’d pictured when I’d moved to New York two years ago.

The plan for the evening, such as it was, was to go home, boil up a pot of mac and cheese (which I was by now incredibly sick of), and surf the internet for porn for a couple hours and then to masturbate until my clit was too tender to touch and my eyes wouldn’t stay open.  Pretty much the standard Friday night routine.

At 25, I felt like the oldest living virgin in New York City, and definitely the horniest.  I was constantly annoyed with the body I had inherited from my Japanese mother and my Dutch father. Asian girls are supposed to be waif thin; I was short and round, much like a steamed dumpling with legs.  That was my parents’ nickname for my: Dumpling.  To make matters worse, I wore glasses; annoying thick glasses that I was constantly misplacing.  And I was shy; chronically, painfully shy.

When I was in high school, I couldn’t wait to be in college.  When I was in college, I couldn’t wait to graduate.  And now I was in New York City: patching ATM machine code by day; working on a novel that did not yet have a name by night; and masturbating pretty much all the time in between.

It was only by lucky chance that I noticed at all.  When I got into the dark little apartment, instead of turning on the lights right away, I kicked off my wet shoes and padded across the room in my cold damp socks to turn on the computer. It had been a long, stupid, frustrating day at work, and I had been obnoxiously horny all day.  At my desk, I had been constantly aware of my clitoris inside my panties, feeling all swollen and sensitive.  A couple of times I had reached up inside my shirt and tweaked my nipples, savoring the electric sensation that coursed straight through my body down to my clit.  Delicious torture.  I could have just gone to the ladies room and masturbated right there (and some days that is exactly what I would have done); but today I preferred to wait and do it properly.  And besides, I wanted to look at pictures.  I have been told that females are less visually inclined than males, but frankly I don’t believe a word of it.  Lately I had been on a big kick for Blacks on Blondes, and I really wanted to get myself off while watching some hot black dude with a big dick fuck some cute white chick right up the butt.  I didn’t know the why of it, I just knew it was really hot.

Standing there with cold wet feet in the middle of my dark apartment, waiting for the dreadfully slow computer to finish booting up, I happened to look out the window.

One floor down, in the building across the street, there was an apartment with the lights on, and nothing obstructing the windows.  As I looked out across the way, the most beautiful black guy I had ever seen walked across his bedroom, completely stark naked.

Later on I figured I was lucky that my double-take didn’t send my glasses shooting off my face; I never would have found them in time to appreciate the view.  The guy was probably a little younger than me, most likely in his early twenties; tall and thin as a willow, with compact, well defined muscles, the body of a dancer.  He had very short kinky black hair atop his head, and dark dark chocolate skin, no body fat whatsoever, and not one strand of body hair.  His dick hung, naked and exposed, wiggling in an oddly fetching way as he walked; and where there should have a triangle of pubic hair, there was just smooth brown skin.

I had never actually seen a man naked before.  Not in person, anyway; I’d seen plenty in porn of course. I’m the queen of missed opportunities: I always seemed to turn into a quivering bowl of tongue-tied jelly any time I found myself in the presence of a guy I was in any way attracted to.  Frustrating, yes, but I have learned that there are ways of dealing with frustration.

I stood there, open-mouthed and staring, as he turned around, exposing his perfect taught black ass; bent down, picked up a pair of white boxer shorts, pulled them on, and turned off the light as he walked out of the room.

Well!  This beat internet porn all to hell.  I pulled off my damp clothes and positioned myself on the windowsill (my loft apartment had these huge industrial windows with sills big enough to sit in.  Beautiful, but a real pain to heat in the winter) Vibrator in hand, I masturbated to a quick and explosive orgasm right then and there.  Then, lust temporarily sated, I cooked up a pot of mac and sleaze, and looked at dirty pictures on the net until well after midnight, one hand constantly busy between my thighs, and one eye constantly cocked on the apartment across the way, hoping to catch my beautiful neighbor coming home.

The next day was Saturday, my writing day. I went in to Manhattan, and in a high-end photo store run by orthodox Jews, with shaking hands I spent almost the entire remaining contents of my savings account on a good pair of binoculars.

Through the afternoon I genuinely tried to work on the novel.  Very little actual writing got done however.  As I sat typing at the computer, I realized that fewer and fewer words were actually coming out.  Eventually I just abandoned it and alternated between SimCity and porn.  By late afternoon it was dark outside and darker in my apartment, and as I sat in the pale blue glow of the computer monitor, I kept glancing through the window, checking for signs of life across the street.

As soon as I saw the light click on, I lunged for my new binoculars.  My hands were shaking too much; I had to rest my elbows on the window sill to hold the image steady.  The view was amazing.  I could have read over his shoulder with those glasses.  He was getting undressed; I caught a tantalizing glimpse of his brown cock and balls, and then he turned out the light.

Over the next few days, I became a bit obsessed.  This wasn’t surprising; I was naturally a bit of an obsessive, that was part of what made me a good coder; but it confirmed my belief that I really and truly was a serious pervert.  I waited for him to get up in the morning; I waited for him to come home at night.  I became paranoid that he might see my, sitting in the window sill in the darkened apartment with my binoculars pressed to my eyes.  But that didn’t stop my.  I caught him naked a few times.  I held my breath, trying to keep him centered in the binoculars while he walked around naked in his bedroom.  But mostly, I got bored with sitting there, looking across the street at an empty room, waiting for him to come in.

And then, on Friday night, when I had all but lost hope of seeing anything good, and was starting to seriously regret dropping way more money than I could realistically afford on a pair of binoculars I really didn’t need, I struck gold.

I didn’t even see him come in.  I just happened to glance across the street and noticed that his light was on.  Then I noticed that he was lying naked on his bed, and almost broke my neck tripping over my feet as I grabbed the binoculars and ran over to the window.

It was like being six inches away from him.  I could see every detail.  His cock was rock hard, his balls were drawn in tight as he slowly stroked himself.  It was beautiful.  I could almost see the veins pulsing on his shaft.  The head was the darkest dark purple, and as his hand moved up and down the length of it, I reached inside my own panties and confirmed that I was in fact wet and slippery as an eel. A very wet eel.

I momentarily lost him from my field of vision as he changed position on the bed, nearly panicked and then found him again, kneeling on the bed, rummaging through the drawer of his bedside table.

What a sexy ass!  So tight and smooth and strong.  I imagined running my hands over that ass, pulling it close, opening my mouth to swallow the beautiful black cock on the front end, squeezing those brown cheeks in little pale hands… Damn!  Those panties of mine were just getting in the way, no doubt!

Relieved of those annoying panties (to say nothing of the sweatpants around my ankles that had been threatening to trip my flat on my face), I found him again in the binoculars.  He was on his hands and knees on the bed, that fat juicy cock dangling heavily between his legs.  I could even make out a drop of precome hovering on the end of his dick, threatening to dribble down onto the white sheet.  With one hand I caressed my clitoris, spreading my juices liberally around.  “Oh the things I would do to that cock, if only it were in MY bed.”

And then I saw what he had in his hands.  Wow!  I was shocked enough to stop (at least for a moment) what I was doing downstairs.  He had a dildo in his hands, a big one, bigger than any of my own toys; made of a sparkly blue material molded to look just like a lifelike dick, right down to a truncated pair of balls on the base.  He was carefully coating it with lube from a small clear bottle.

Oh Damn.  Did this mean that my neighbor was gay?  And if so, what did that do to my fantasies about him?  It took only a few moments of consideration to decide that it didn’t matter.  Not really at all.

Across the street, my beautiful neighbor was working hard on impaling himself with the big blue dildo.  I had a prime view of it too.  He was facing directly away from my, his ass thrust up in the air like a cat in heat, his smooth balls and cock dangling down.  I even got a glimpse of his asshole (tiny crinkled little thing, was he really going to shove that big fat toy up there?) before it was obscured by his hands and the dildo.

It took a while for him to get it up inside.  He took it slow, working it very gently in and out, and adding more lube before pushing hard with one hand while the other hand pried his ass apart.  I could almost hear him sigh when, at last, the pink toy slid past his anal opening and disappeared into his lean body.

Meanwhile, I hadn’t been idle.  If at first I was shocked that I found a boy toying himself to be a turn-on, I quickly realized that I was responding to it in a big way.  In fact I was having trouble keeping the binoculars trained on him and my finger on my clit at the same time.  I was kneeling at the windowsill with one hand busy between my legs, an elbow propped up on the sill, my free hand holding the trembling field glasses.

He rolled over onto his back, toes facing my direction.  His dick was grasped tightly in one hand, and the other hand working the dildo gently in and out.  His eyes were shut tight and -fuck me!- his nipples were tiny and dark and pointy –just like little Hershey’s kisses!–  His hand was moving so fast on his dick that it was a blur and at that moment I wanted more than anything to be lying on top of him, kissing him on the mouth at the instant he shot off.

And he did shoot off.  God, it was so much better than any porn, ever!  He arched his back, his toes curled (oh yes they did!) and he squirted gobs and gobs of pearly white boy come all over his smooth dark tummy and chest.

When it was over, when he had milked every last drop from his wilting penis and when he had extracted his dildo and had grabbed a Kleenex to wipe up the mess on his chest (Which would certainly not have gone to waste had I been there!), I finally set down the binoculars, lay down on my back hardwood floor, and got myself off.  I had been right on the edge for so long, it was a cinch to come at last.  I worked my clit and slipped my fingers in and out of my pussy and tickled my asshole, pretending that it was his fingers exploring my body.  The orgasm was so nice I went for a second one right away, replaying the scene I had just watched over and over again in my head.

After I had come no less than three times, I got up off my ass and drank a tall glass of water.  The apartment across the way was dark and still.  I sat down at the computer and managed to get the better part of a chapter written before falling asleep just before two in the morning.

All weekend, and all the next week I was vigilant.  And unlucky.  I barely ever seemed to catch him at home.  I caught him in his underpants a couple of times; that was the extent of my voyeuristic thrills.

That Friday, my luck changed again.  I was sitting by the window, having gotten sick of staring at a blank page on my computer screen and not ready to give up and go for the porn yet.  Across the way, his window was dark.  The sky was inky black.  Heavy clouds had been gathering all day, and snow was in the forecast again.  It was bitterly cold outside.

Without warning, his light flicked on, and he walked into the room.  And he was not alone this time.  There was a pretty blonde girl with him, and she had her arm possessively around his waist.

By the time I had found my binoculars and gotten them to focus, the happy couple was up on the bed making out.  As I watched, Neighbor Guy pulled the Blonde Girl’s sweater up and off.  It wasn’t fair; she was skinny AND she had big tits.

He played with her boobs for a while, and I had to admit that they were a lovely set.  Then she pulled off his shirt, and I got to watch in an aroused state of jealousy while Blonde Girl explored his smooth muscular brown skin.

And then Neighbor Guy was tugging off her jeans, and I caught a quick glimpse of panties, red and lacy, before they were tossed aside and she was flat on her back on his bed with her pale thighs spread wide apart and her nearly shaved pussy fully on display for him.  And for me.

He wasted no time getting his head between my legs and giving that lucky Blonde Girl a thorough tongue lashing.  She certainly seemed to be enjoying it too, kicking her legs humping back toward his face and thrashing around on his bed.

After what I was pretty sure was a supremely massive orgasm on the part of the blonde, Neighbor Boy came up for air. I could actually SEE her wetness on his face.   Blonde Girl got his pants down and his gear out (“About freaking time!” I thought) as she petted and caressed his extremely stiff lovely black boner.

They lay down together on the bed and seemed to be talking.  His ass looked really cute.  If I’d been there I wouldn’t have been wasting my time talking.  I would have had my mouth full already.

He pulled a box of condoms from the bedside table.  She shook her head ‘No.’ They kissed and touched a little more.  Than he sat up, as if he had made a decision.  She listened, and then nodded.  He pulled open the drawer on the side table and brought out the dildo.  Again, I watched Blonde Girl make a face and shake her head ‘No.’   Neighbor Guy put the toy back in its drawer.

I guess they came to some sort of compromise: he straddled her chest and jerked off onto her tits.  Blonde Girl seemed to enjoy that.  After he was done and she wiped up with a Kleenex, they both got dressed again and she headed out into the chilly night.  I felt bad for him.  I felt like he had gotten the short end of the stick.

The next day was Saturday, the designated writing day.  Clouds loomed low and dark, and a few scattered flurries whipped past the window.  The sun never really showed its face all day, and by mid-afternoon it was dark outside.

I saw the light come on across the street, and grabbed my faithful binoculars to have a look.  Was he alone?  Or did he have that Blonde Girl with him?

He was alone.  He stripped down to his white boxer shorts and lay down and as I watched disappointed, opened up a book and started reading.

I took a deep breath and contemplated what I was about to do.  I’d been thinking about this all week.  There was nothing for it but to do it.  I pulled my favorite vibrator out of the underwear drawer where it lived and switched on the overhead light.

I climbed up onto the window sill, feeling like an ass.  With the light on, I could no longer see out the window across the way.  “Please,” I thought, “Please don’t chicken out now.”

One thing was for sure: I was eminently visible to anyone who happened to be looking at my window, and I knew it.  Feeling highly self-conscious, I started to strip.  I really hoped I looked sexy, because just then I didn’t feel very sexy.  I felt like a fool.

I have never actually personally seen a strip show, but I had a pretty good idea of what I was supposed to do.  As seductively as possible, I danced my clothes off, until I stood naked in the cold light of the window frame.  Then, feeling like The Biggest Dork in the Universe, I started to masturbate.

I surprised myself.  The feeling of being on display to the city of the night, of not knowing exactly who could see me, who was getting ready to call the cops, or who was getting his (or her) jollies from watching my touch myself was a powerful thrilling aphrodisiac.  Soon, I had almost forgotten that I was supposed to be putting on a show, and was cruelly pinching and twisting my own hard nipple and deeply penetrating my pussy with my fingers while I ground the humming vibrator against my clit.  The orgasm, when it came, was earth-shattering, and I collapsed weak-kneed onto the window sill.

It was dark in the window across the way.  A little disappointed and out of breath, I pulled on my pajamas and sat down at the computer to write.  I was actually making some progress when the street door buzzed.

The intercom didn’t work, so I just buzzed the door open and stood by the front door of my apartment, waiting.

I didn’t have to wait long.  He must have run up all five flights of stairs.  When the knock came on the apartment door, I unclicked the deadbolt and found myself face to face with him.  It was my beautiful Neighbor Guy, looking chilly but incredibly sexy in a pair of faded blue jeans and a t-shirt that I could see his stiff little nipples through.

He opened his mouth, but I silenced him with a kiss.  It felt really good to kiss those lips.  Really, really good.  I could have kissed him for a long time.  But I wasn’t in a patient mood.  I was already fumbling with the fly of his jeans as he stepped into the apartment, letting the door fall close behind him.

His boxers and jeans fell around his ankles, and his cock bobbed out, stiff and black and delicious looking.  Looking up at him through my thick glasses, I dropped to my knees in front of that beautiful cock.  Without a word, I opened my mouth and swallowed it whole.

It tasted really good.  It was a clean, male, sexy taste, and I was gobbling it all up.   I was masturbating as I sucked, and Neighbor Guy had his hands down my pajama top, playing with my tits.  He was incredibly hard and hot in my mouth.  The only blowjob experience I had was from watching it done in videos.  I hoped I was doing ok.

Reluctantly, I removed his hands from my breasts.  Just now, I wanted to be completely in control.  I took the opportunity to pull off my top, setting my boobs free.  Then I went back to work on his cock, licking, kissing, sucking and bobbing my head up and down.  He moaned and I melted.  I had never had so much fun in my life.  Reaching behind him, cupping that sexy tight little ass, I let one finger explore between his cheeks, quickly finding what I was looking for.  I pressed a finger, slippery with my own juice, up inside his asshole as his moans escalated.  I could feel his body squeezing me as he humped my face, giving himself up to pleasure.

I let his hard cock flop out of my mouth.  It glistened with my saliva, and seemed to throb in time with his heartbeat.  I really wanted that thing up my cunt.  But not now.  I turned him around so his tight brown buns were right in my face.  I kissed him all over his tush before centering in on his crack.  I slurped up and down between his cheeks, enjoying his musky, male taste.  He was groaning out loud, which made me even hotter than I already was.  I parted his cheeks and licked his tiny little asshole.  He moaned.  I pressed the tip of my tongue into his opening, working my way up inside him.  Reaching down between my legs, I almost couldn’t believe how wet my pussy was.

I’m not sure how long I tongue-fucked him.  I don’t think it was really very long, but the bliss seemed to last forever.  I reached around and grabbed his cock and felt up his balls as I licked his asshole.  I felt so powerful with his gear in my hands, this strong, beautiful man squirming on the tip of my tongue.

I felt him stiffen.  “Oh my God, I’m going to come!”

I removed my face from his butt and he turned around again, offering me his swollen dick.  I took as much of it in my mouth as I could, pulling his wet ass toward me with both hands and sucking as hard as I could.

He came loud and he came hard, squirting my mouth full of thick, steaming come.  I drank what seemed like a gallon of his sticky, bitter, exquisitely male come from his spasming dick.  I would have been happy to suck him dry, but apparently he was a little too sensitive for that.  Reluctantly, I let his soft, wet black cock flop out of my mouth.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I pressed one finger against his lips.  “Later,” I said.  He pulled his jeans back up, kissed my on the forehead, and went back downstairs into the night.

I may have been the oldest, horniest virgin in the city, but at that moment I was feeling very satisfied.  I sat down at my computer and started to write.

4 Comments »

  1. Fantasia said

    Oh please tell me there is a sequel ….

    • elsiewrites said

      In general, I really try to stay away from sequels. Part of my writing philosophy is to try to always leave the reader wanting more. Also, I think my stories have a somewhat bitter-sweet quality that I like when the protagonist is left somewhat unfulfilled. It’s more like real life and less like a fairy tale. My characters tend to be perverted, lonely, and socially inept. I may write utter smut, but I do try to be true to my characters.

      Thanks for the compliment though!

      • Fantasia said

        I understand … maybe I’ll just have to pick up where you left off! In my head … on paper ….

      • elsiewrites said

        If on paper, I’m looking forward to reading it. If in your head… enjoy!

RSS feed for comments on this post · TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: