Message-ID: <6085eli$9712041354@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: losgud Subject: <*>NEW STORY--Front Window Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: see@iglou.com, end@iglou.com, note@iglou.com X-Nntp-Posting-User: [unauthenticated] Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <3485B29C.2B65@hotnomail.com> ========================= The following is total fiction. Any resemblance etc. is a product of your imagination. This work is meant as ADULT entertainment. If the laws where you sit say you're too young to read this, go away and turn yourself in to the thought police. Even thinking about sex is dirty and nasty and will warp your mind forever. Go watch a movie or play a game that ends with a body count in the high four figures. Death and destruction are good clean fun. ©1997 losgud. Personal use just fine. Archiving okay. Absolutely NO for-profit use permitted. Reposting without notice is frowned upon. Tampering with the text (rewriting) is illegal. Copyright violations will fall under the jurisdiction of my principality, where the punishment is to discourage repeat offenders. We cut your fucking hands off! ========================= M/F con hum voy NOTE: Here's a slightly strange one. Peek-a-boo, I see you! As usual, things start percolating about halfway through. Remember: it pays to be a good neighbor! Enjoy! FRONT WINDOW It was one of those mornings where you wake up with the decision in hand to change your life. You wake up, and there it is, as tangible and real as the bits of crust in the corners of your eyes. There was the usual great battle with all the bedding, but I managed to fight my way free, fleeing the quicksand oblong of the mattress to stumble into the kitchen to get the coffee going. Then I went into the bathroom, and for the time it took my bladder to empty I was transformed into a horse. By some miracle I didn't overflow the bowl. From there I went to my favorite window and opened it before sitting down in the chair. I lit a cigarette and became a machine. I sucked in smoke, the blew it out through the screen, over and over, until the cigarette was finished. This was my clock. By the time I stumbled back into the kitchen, the coffee would be done brewing. I sat down at the table and drank several cups of my wake-up medicine. Then I fully contemplated changing my life. Changing my life was of course beyond my capabilities. So I focused on my surroundings. With the headiness born of a Saturday morning, I decided to rearrange all the furniture in my apartment. I was tired of it being so cramped and dark and gloomy in here. I'd considered a major shift many times before but I was always thwarted before I began by one obstacle. Not that I was too lazy to undertake such a chore--I could overcome that inclination just thinking about the rewards. Not that it'd be such an arduous process--it _would_ be a complicated procedure, moving just the one right piece at a time to avoid a gigantic logjam. The problem was that no matter how I considered the space, it always looked to be a game of musical chairs--when the music ended there would be one piece of furniture with nowhere to sit down. The trouble was that I wanted to uncover the front windows, which were blocked by a huge oak secretary. I could see no way to find it wall space without, say, exiling the couch to the middle of the room. Or rendering a closet useless. Or losing a heat vent. The secretary was a gift from a great-aunt when she'd traded a big family house in the cold north for a small senior's condo in the sunny south. It was a beautiful monstrosity. The very thing only an old maiden great-aunt would wind up having, which wasn't a very reassuring thought now that it sat in my apartment. The story was that the family had brought it over on the boat when they'd first come to this country a million years ago. My story was that _it_ in fact _was_ the fucking boat. It had a drop-leaf desk, and a rolltop desk. A million little cubbyholes. Sliding doors. The multiple desk section rested on a base containing four columns of four drawers each. Above, glass-doored mirror-backed shelving rose nearly to the ceiling. The wood was carved to incredible detail. Pilasters and flutings all over the place. Corinthian columns for god's sake! Flying buttresses! As if it didn't look enough like a cathedral, perched all around the top were little gargoyles pushing out of the very wood. They weren't separately affixed decorations. Luckily the whole thing rested on ceramic casters. Luckier still, despite the cracks of age, the four wheels were not only whole but still functioning. At the heart of the whole problem was that I had my bed in the livingroom. The bedroom down the hall past the bathroom I used as a study. Aside from the occasional hoopla of someone getting lucky, bedrooms tended to be the quietest corner of any apartment. I needed no noise to concentrate when I was working. But I could go to sleep, or stay asleep, through all but the greatest din. Such were the necessities of my life. I gave grave consideration to my latest vision, then set to work. The bed was just a Hollywood frame. I leaned the mattress and boxsprings against the wall in the hall. The couch went where the bed had been, which left enough room on the adjoining wall for the bookcases from the dining nook. The secretary creaked over to the couch's former position. The table and set of four chairs from the dining room I grouped in front of the front windows. Man, that was going to be my new favorite window, I could just tell. The dresser and a couple of chairs and two minor endtables got shuffled around, winding up in better positions than before. Miraculously the bed fit snugly in the dining nook, with the critical room to spare for the crucial bedside table. The view through the front windows would travel through the livingroom landing directly on my bed, but that didn't bother me. That's what the blinds were for if I chose to care. It was a little unnerving at first--the secretary had provided an excellent privacy barrier. But I well knew from my tenure that almost everyone kept their blinds closed all the time anyway. Those of us dwelling on the second story were safe from the scrutiny of anyone in the courtyard. Factor in screens and exterior glass that'd been washed by nothing but rain in dozens of years and what did it matter if I happened to walk into my livingroom in my underwear? What harm was there if someone across the way chanced to see my naked butt climbing into bed moments before lights out? I decided I'd continue leaving my blinds up, even in the lamplight of night. Otherwise I felt too claustrophobic. The only hitch in my plans was that a few weeks before a new couple had moved in directly across the way. The previous tenants had never raised their blinds or even opened them, not even during the dull light of day. The schedules of the new neighbors seemed to be such that she was the first to stir in the morning, when all the blinds in their livingroom would go up, and the first home from work, when the blinds wouldn't shift even though all the lights were on. The blinds would drop mid-evening, at the instigation of the guy it appeared. In my apartment's new configuration, I'd wind up loitering over dinner, gazing absently out the window, and there she would be, sitting watching t.v. It was a little unnerving. I immediately thought of Hitchcock's _Rear Window_. I thought a time or two about fetching my toy binoculars, but stopped myself shouting _to what effect?_ So I could watch her watching t.v. at x10? So that she could wind up noticing me spying on her in a stupid toy way? The thing was, they were the nicest couple in the world. Friendly folk. We'd been waving and exchanging greetings since the first day they started moving in. The real thing was that I found her immensely attractive. She wasn't torn from the pages of _Glamour_, but neither was I stepping out of _GQ_. She was on the short side, with a cutely distinctive face, always ready with a winning smile. Her eyes were like those of a doe's. Breasts that were, well, breasts. Breasts that were nicely apparent but wouldn't necessarily need a brassiere to defy gravity. Mostly what I found alluring was how her waist flared into hips, a womanly ass. And unlike a great many women, she seemed to realize that her ass was just right exactly as it was, that were it any smaller the pleasure of it would be diminished, from an observer's point of view. Observe it I did. Very very discreetly. So often swaying in a pair of tight white pants. I would look at the back of his head as they walked away and think _lucky, lucky guy_. I didn't have to wonder if he appreciated it or deserved it. He obviously did on both counts, to judge by her small attentions. _Lucky, lucky guy_, I thought with total altruism. It really did make me happy to see two people so happy. One Sunday I was sitting out on the front stoop with a cup of coffee enjoying the gorgeous day. The courtyard was a microcosm of paradise. The leaves on the three big trees twinkled in the sunshine and the light breeze, seeming to provide the support for the big canopy of luscious blue way overhead. The birds flitting around were singing songs that sang _Be Happy, Be Happy_. It took no effort for me to take their advice to heart. Their lyrics were already radiating from within me, not as a command but as an accomplished fact. It was a damn good day. I saw their car pull up, and then the new couple were coming up the walk. As they approached the turn off to their door we called out our congenial if generic greetings. They are so great, I thought. I was surprised, and delighted, when they turned the wrong way and came up the walk towards me. We spouted pleasantries and introductions. They were Jake and Ellen, and I was Edwin. We were standing, or sitting, out in as perfect a day as there is, residents of a lovely apartment complex full of friendly folk. We joked about a cadre of nosy but nice old men we called the resident grannies. Ellen commented indirectly on my redecorating efforts, noting, "Your puss-puss certainly seems to be greatly enjoying her new view." This was quite true. "Yea, tell me about it. She hangs out there all the time. And if she hears me down here, she does just this." My cat was doing her usual trick of yelling down at me. "Sounds like your pussy wants some attention," Ellen grinned. "I know the feeling. Well I guess we'll leave you to it." Just as they were turning, she asked, "Have you ever seen my sweet little pussy in our window?" I almost blushed, but quickly recovered. "No, can't say as I have." She smiled and tossed her hair and turned. The thing was--cats and windows--I should have known that they had one. "I didn't know you guys had a cat." Jake gave me a goofy look before he turned away, "Oh, that's because we don't." The implications were such that a blood vessel in my brain should have burst, causing me to keel over dead right there on the stoop, but I was too busy watching Ellen's wonderful ass swaying away. I was wondering as always about a certain incongruity--if panties were such sheer little things, how come you could always see them so clearly defined through a pair of pants? And in instances such as this, to judge by the lines I could see, why would one bother wearing any at all? Strictly for the benefit of a lucky someone who might help take them off? That was my only guess. _Lucky someone!_ I went back upstairs and started puttering around the apartment. Fed the cat, thought about lunch, decided to put off eating for a couple hours. Gathered up the previous day's newspaper, thought of going out for today's, decided I'd put that off until I was really desperate for some fun. A notion of brilliance was knocking at my back door, so I let it in. Aha! Move that tiny table from that end of the couch to this end! So many weeks after the initial efforts, and at last the transformation of my apartment was complete in total perfection. I sat down on the sofa supremely satisfied with myself, and the cat hopped up supremely satisfied with my lap. We sat there communing in the silence. When the buzzer rang, we had a race to see who would be first to bump their head on the ceiling. I bounced back on the sofa, but the cat landed in the middle of the room, looking at me wildly. "It's not my fault!" I exclaimed. She tore off to the kitchen with her tail as wide as her head. The apartment complex was immediately postwar, and the buzzers seemed to be navy surplus from decommissioned submarines. _Dive! dive!_ I didn't understand their necessity. The buttons were located below the mailboxes directly downstairs inside the nonlocking front door. A few steps up the stairs would bring a gentle rap to my door. Then there _was_ one. I got up and looked through the peephole, which of course would distort my own mother into the image of the scariest monster murderer. I opened the door and there to my great surprise stood Jake. "Well, hello Jake. What a surprise." I regained my composure, opening the door wide, "Come in, come in." "Nice layout," he commented, "but wow, _déjà vu_." We stood there and exchanged goofy guy grins. Next he noticed the secretary. "My god, that is incredible. How gorgeous. Is that what was blocking your windows when we first moved in?" "You got it!" "Man, how did it get in here? They construct the building around it?" "Industrial strength helicopter. The landlord doesn't like to advertise it, but the roofs here are hung on hinges. You have to see them to believe them. Up in the attic. Ten feet long, mounted with thigh-wide screws." He chuckled. "Excellent Edwin. A shitter always appreciates a good shitting. Up the stairs, hmmm, glad it wasn't me." "Hey, glad it wasn't me. I hired professionals, self-insured ones. Presented the owner with several notarized appraisals so he'd understand that if they broke it I'd break him." "I can't even begin to guess. Thirty thousand?" "When my great-aunt gave it to me she included an appraisal for about that, but it was dated twenty years ago and signed by the hick dealer in her small town. Who's to say? My understanding is there's not another one like it on the continent. I've been tracked down by strangers. I have several standing offers in the six-figures, updated each year. I call it my retirement fund." "No doubt. God what happens in case of fire?" "Well. My great-aunt has the wherewithal to maintain a policy in my name. And I reckon I'd sit down and have a long hard cry." We stayed there standing around until finally I shook my head. "Oh, hey, get you something to drink? Something I can do for you?" Jake looked at me, blinking then remembering. "Oh yes, as a matter of fact. I came over to see if you could perhaps do me a small favor. No pressure. I don't want to create an imposition or anything." "Shoot." "Well, I've got to run out for a few hours and do some errands, and I was wondering if you could go over to our place and keep Ellen company. It's kind of irrational and all, but what can I say? We've had some mystery calls lately that have gotten her sort of rattled. She won't come with me and she won't unplug the phone because her mom usually calls around this time for a long chat. It's too last minute for any of her friends to come over. So, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd go over and hold the fort, screen the calls. So I can go out and do what I need to get done. I mean, don't put yourself out or anything." "Sure," I shrugged. "Really?" he brightened. "You don't mind?" "No problem. You're staring at the same walls that were on my agenda for the day." "_Great!_ It may seem like little to you, but it means a lot to me. I owe you big time." "Oh god no," I waved him off. "You can feed my cat and water the plants when I'm on vacation or something." We walked out together. "I'll probably gone three hours tops," he winced, "two hours minimum." "That's fine. Whatever." "But it might just be like ten minutes for you. Her mom calls, then Ellen can unplug the phone. After that feel free to do as you please. Really!" I gave him a playful push, "Go, Jake, _go!_" He clapped me on the shoulder, "Thanks," then went off down the walk. "Oh, by the way, I should warn you. Her mom's kind of deaf, and she had some nodules removed from her vocal cords a few years back, so, you know, she can sound like a whacked-out crazy herself." "Good warning," I laughed, waving him away. I went in their building and straight up the stairs, bypassing the buzzer. A tense mood would send you through the roof. I knocked lightly on their door. I didn't wait for her to have to use the peephole. "Hey Ellen, it's me, Edwin." The door flew open. Ellen's eyes were still those of a doe, but now the eyes of a doe about to be pulled down by a pack of wolves. She flung her herself into my arms, nearly in tears, "Oh thank god! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" While I was certainly enjoying the show of appreciation I brought it gently to an end as quickly as possible. I was on a mission of mercy, not a mercenary mission. It felt great having her pressed so tightly up against me, and I would have let it linger, never being one to be above enjoying the odd vicarious thrill, but it felt _so_ great that it wouldn't have been much longer before she started feeling exactly how great it was making me feel. I was instantly alert to the dangers of an erection. The hitch of my cock. The scenario wouldn't unfold into the erotic interlude of my fantasies. It would be straight out of Hitchcock. The shock of realization on her face. Alone in her apartment with the kind genial neighbor from across the way, _who was in fact the phone-calling maniac!_ I mean, I wasn't, but there'd be the big butcher knife in my gut to prevent me from dispelling the mistake. The phone would ring. And it wouldn't be mom! "Hey, nice layout!" I stole Jake's joke, "but wow, _déjà vu_." She smiled very weakly. "Jake's a fairly shy guy. I gave him that to break the ice." "Nice line," I nodded, feeling like a total dork. I steered Ellen over to the couch and sat her down. "Okay, you can relax now, okay?" She pulled me down beside her. She insisted on keeping my hands in hers on top of her thigh. "I'm sorry, I feel so stupid," her voice quavered. "No no no," I consoled her, "I'm sorry this creep keeps calling." "I shouldn't, you know, get so upset, but god, he's making a wreck out of me." I nodded, "New number, unlisted, first thing in the morning?" "Oh, exactly. But what really has me shaken is I think this is someone who knows me somehow. He knows my name, and it's not included in the listing. Well, among his many errands, Jake promised to pick up an answering machine, and one of those things that logs the numbers of incoming calls." "Wise idea," I answered. The phone rang. We both startled. Ellen shot it a look of pure terror, then jerked away, her eyes on me big pleading pools. I took my hands out of hers and stood up, "Hey, it's probably for me." "Hello?" Big bunch of heavy breathing. I waited long enough to make sure it wasn't her mom, then continued calmly, "Go take your asthma medicine, _asshole!_" I hung up the receiver and shrugged. Ellen was melting with relief. She stood up wringing her hands. "Can I, I mean, should I, that is, are you hungry? How about, I could you know, maybe, make us a little lunch? Soup, sandwiches, chips, anything you want?" "Sure, that'd be great," I replied. I wasn't particularly hungry, but she definitely needed something to do with her hands. I followed her into the kitchen. I agreed with everything she showed me, figuring the more she had to make, the longer she'd stay occupied. I made the offer of assisting, but she would have none of it. I thought about returning to the livingroom, but that seemed a little rude. Not to mention dull. I could sit in there and stare at the walls. Or I could sit down at the little table, chatting and watching Ellen at work. The innocent little pleasures of watching her bending and stretching and reaching. That was reward enough for my troubles. I wasn't at all obvious in my attentions, though I'd see a half-smile on her face when she would do a sudden half-turn. My reverie was interrupted by the phone ringing again. I stood up with an exaggerated sigh. It was the same panting shit. I slightly muffled the mouthpiece with my hand, then whispered loud enough for all three of us to hear, "Officer, have you got the trace going?" I hung up last. I received a standing ovation, even if it was the applause of one. I returned to find the table laden with my victory feast. There was enough food for a small party. Quickly the truth shone through that neither of us had much of an appetite. I picked up my spoon and ate most of my bowl of soup because it tasted as good as it had smelled. Ellen used her spoon as a prop, stirring her soup until it had gone cold. She nibbled about half her sandwich, while I consumed less of mine. The meal was thoroughly awkward. We were mostly silent. The few attempts at conversation fizzled. It was like being on a first date, only far worse. It was like being on your very first first date. Every now and again Ellen would look up from her lap and toss me a brilliant smile. I was so relieved, I caught the phone on the second ring. It was the jerk again, in a little more talkative mood. I listened more intently, then remembered Jake's caution, and sure enough. Striding back into the kitchen I announced, "Hey, it's your mom!" Their phone had an ultra long cord. After gabbing a minute, Ellen took the phone back in the bedroom and closed the door. I sat at the table for about five minutes. I'd moved to the sofa by the time she came back out, but in the interim I'd wrapped up all the food and put it away in the fridge or appropriate cabinets, washed the dishes, and stopped myself just shy of getting out the mop. I heard the small plastic sound of the cord being unplugged from the jack. She looked for me first in the kitchen, then found me where I was. "My goodness, you are an all-round miracle." "Well," I shrugged, "pig at home, prince in the world. It was really my mess anyway. I had you make it to keep you busy." "How can I ever repay you?" Ellen had a whole repertoire of brilliant smiles. "You already did. I can go home now and not have to make a lunch mess of my own." I stood up to go. "No no no no no," she strode over quickly, put her palm on my chest and pushed me back down to the sofa. "No, no, no . . . hmmm, _I know!_" she brightened. "Wait right here." She disappeared down the hall into the bedroom again. She was gone long enough I thought I should either sneak out or go find the vacuum cleaner. She returned empty handed, but I noticed immediately she'd changed her pants. The baggy blue jeans were gone, replaced by a tight pair of thin white cotton pants that I'd come to regard nearly as a best friend. Ellen did a few slow turns, stopping with her back to me. "How's that?" she turned to ask over her shoulder. _That_ was excellent. I could see quite clearly that not only were her panties high cut bikinis, but they were pink, banded in red, and patterned with little roses. "I've noticed that you enjoy these pants a great deal." I gasped and she giggled. "You think a woman doesn't notice when a man stares at her ass everytime she walks by?" She started backing up towards me. "Why do you think I seem to be wearing these pants all the time? Ever occur to you that I went out and bought three pairs just like them? It's okay, Edwin, we're not out in the courtyard. You can touch me with more than your eyes if you like." I was a moth, my hands fluttering to the bright light. I'd barely touched her when the pants slipped down off her hips. I hadn't even noticed her hands, busy undoing the front. Ellen shook her ass a few times and they slid down to her ankles. She stepped out of them, let me savor the view, then turned around. "I'm done talking to my mom, Edwin. The phone's unplugged." She lowered her voice to an unnatural level, "_Feel free to do as you please. Really!_" Things were turning really weird really fast. But that didn't stop my hands from flying directly back to her flame, alighting on her hips. "Do you like my pretty flowers? I figured you might." She removed one of my hands and placed it between her legs, cupping me cupping her, rubbing my fingers against her fabric covered mons. "If you make me come in my panties, they're yours." She was already quite damp. With very little pressure the thin strip of cloth slid up between the slipperiness of her swollen labia. She pressed my hand harder against her while thrusting her pelvis downward to increase the pressure even more. I elevated my middle finger a little from the rest of the pack, letting it slide right into the groove. "That's it, baby, she cried with a wild expression, "_use_ that fuck finger, uh huh, a little higher and you're going to win that prize!" The crotch of her panties were quickly nearly dripping so I shifted the action slightly, found her little button, and started rubbing it furiously. Her mouth opened slowly, wordlessly, all the way wide while her eyelids lowered at the same pace. Ellen drew in a long loud breath, then grew rigid for a second, all the air in her lungs escaping in an endless groan as her limbs buckled. She crumpled to her knees, between my knees, her arms catching on my legs all that kept her completely from the floor. When Ellen recovered from her fall she gave me a sleepy, tousled, nearly drunken look. She slid her arms off my thighs and then down between them, forcing my legs further apart. Then she brought her hands back up, holding the hem of her shirt, which she lifted up over her head, leaving it to flutter to the floor. My guess that she wasn't wearing a brassiere was confirmed, but she left me little time to admire the full sway of her breasts, crawling up in my lap to plant wild kisses all over my face. But then she scooted forward some more, pointedly offering her breasts to my mouth. "I've noticed you seem to like the looks of these as well. The famine of fantasy is over; now it's time for you to feast." And feast I did, nudging and nuzzling, kissing and licking, sucking and suckling first one breast, then the other, then the first, then the other. It was a back and forth motion I could have enjoyed for hours. The feel of them in my hands was wonderful as well, but my hands felt an urgency to slide around to her back, slipping slowly down to squeeze the widened posture of her ass, through the fabric then ducking under the elastic to grip the full glory of her flesh, grinding her down against me. "Careful you don't get a big wet spot on the front of your pants," she giggled in my ear. Soon Ellen straightened up and leaned back, leering down at me, moving her hands to rub against mine through the thin skin of fabric. "Why don't you take these off, Edwin? You earned your prize. And who knows, you might find a prize inside the prize." Ellen stood up before me. I leaned over from my sitting position and pulled the panties down until gravity sent them to her ankles. She stepped out of them daintily. The full waft of her arousal hit me like a narcotic. All I could do was sit there staring at her pubic area, the hedge of curly hair and the pinkish hints of her delights below. She snapped me out of my daze by mentioning my name. "Edwin? You probably can't see your next prize very well from this angle. Let me improve on it." Ellen took the two steps to the end of the sofa, then climbed on, crouching on her knees, her forearms resting on the arm of sofa. The view was indeed much more graphic in its presentation. "Earth to Edwin," she again interrupted my trance, "I believe it's time for you to take off your pants." As though under hypnosis I stood up and did just that, losing the shoes and socks along the way. "Shirt too," she smiled. With every stitch out of the way I stood there with my cock jutting out in all its glory. Watching me over her shoulder she gave a low whistle, "Oh . . . my . . . goodness! Why don't you just plant that right here," reaching a hand underneath her to point out the very spot. I glanced over at the naked glass of the windows. "Don't worry," she whispered, "yours is the only apartment that could see me at this angle. And you're already here to see me at this angle." The sight of her was so mesmerizing, the full round globes of her ass, her cunt wet and split like a ripe fruit. I crawled up on the sofa behind her, holding myself to make the plunge. As I moved into position her hand reached back to grab me. "Here," she intoned, "let me give you the guided tour." She slid me inside her past the head of my cock, then her hand returned to her other gripping the armrest. "Edwin, we don't have too much time, but let's take it slow. I want you to go home convinced of one thing: that this afternoon you had absolutely the best fuck of your life." I took her words to heart, taking almost a minute to fully bury myself in her sheath. With the third repetition I felt her stiffen, then let go with a throaty moan. I had to stop completely, biting my lip to blood. Ellen had the most amazing vaginal muscles I'd ever endured. Her pussy was doing its best to ensure that I flood it right then and there. When her orgasm subsided and she felt me still stiff inside her, she blessed me, "Good boy, Edwin, _very_ good boy!" She pushed back against me. "My cunt has been so ready for this from the first day I laid eyes on you. You and your eyes, you bastard! Your eyes on my ass like fingers slipping down to rub my pussy. Your eyes on my tits making my nipples feel tweaked. Your eyes on my face exactly like the taste of your luscious lips." I hardly had to do anything! Ellen kept coming like a woman possessed. And she was possessing me. I could barely move for fear of bringing on the crash of my own ending. She swiveled her ass like no woman I'd ever known, until I had to grab her hips to hold her steady. She gave a little laugh, then changed directions, bucking back and forth. I slammed into her hard and fast just to drive her to distraction for a few seconds. I'd never encountered sex so excruciating and agonizing, weird and wild in such inaction. I dove forward, nipping all over her shoulders. "God Ellen," I gasped, "you are fucking amazing!" "The pot and the kettle," she hissed, "calling each other black, you amazing fuck you." She was ascending again into serious orbit, slamming her ass backwards, her pussy positively milking me. When she reached back and gave my balls a quick little squeeze I didn't even try to resist. I was grateful to being going along with her on the big trip. I lay there collapsed on top of her collapsed on the couch. Ellen didn't look particularly comfortable, so I pulled out, lost my balance and fell backwards onto the remaining cushions. I'd read somewhere once that male orgasm triggers the release of the brain's pleasure chemical. It's called positive reinforcement. The compound is molecularly next door to morphine. Both substances use the same receptor. I lay there lingering on the edge of a lethal overdose, a big goofy grin on my face. Ellen turned around pleased by what she saw. She bent down and licked my cock clean, then reached over to snag her shirt from the floor. "I hope you enjoyed your lunch. I sure did. Did you get enough? Mmmmm. I wish you could stick around so we could share an afternoon snack but . . . you know . . . it's getting, um, _late_." I took the hint, successfully attaining an upright position. I gave myself directions: underwear first, _then_ pants. Socks, shoes. Don't forget the shirt! I hurried as best I could. It wasn't Jake I was worried about so much as the cops. No telling what the old man living downstairs had thought about the commotion. My ears were still ringing from the moments when we sounded more like multiple murders than multiple orgasms. Maybe there'd been a screamer or two in his life. Though maybe all he'd ever known was his dearly departed wife. The cherished memories of a mousy woman who'd quietly indulged him in his pleasures. I didn't want to stick around to find out which was right. I was glad to go, much as, glancing up from the shirt buttons to see Ellen gazing at me, it would have taken just the tiniest gesture to persuade me to stay. I walked over to her, our smiles ready to conjoin. We shared a heady kiss that allowed my hands the time to roam back around to give her ass one last long grope. "Thank you, Edwin. Thank you very much. For everything." "No, thank _you_, Ellen. The pleasure was all mine." "Oh no it wasn't," she trilled. "Anytime . . . " I began. She put her finger to my lips, shushing me with her lips as she led me to the door. She left me to cross the room, where she bent down treating me to a final grand view. Then she straightened up and returned. "Don't forget these," she smiled, holding the panties briefly to my nose before tucking them in my pocket, stuffing them deep in my pocket, rooting around in my pocket, her hand in my pocket reaching over to give my cock a little squeeze. Then it was out the door with me! I walked across the courtyard carrying very few regrets. There was a lot of confusion surrounding the encounter, but I wasn't going to get all bent up over the singular nature of the occasion. It seemed pretty obvious that Ellen regarded this as a one-time fling and I certainly wasn't going to push it. Hell, she was married, and such affairs usually wind up awfully messy. Judging by the newspapers, the third party usually gets himself blown away. It'd make sitting out on the stoop difficult for awhile. I resolved to go out and find my own girlfriend. Though not immediately. I'd let myself cool down a bit. Wait until I could sit out on the stoop again without draping myself in a cloak of weird emotions. That would be the fair thing to do. Because really, with no disrespect intended to anyone I might ever meet, I was going inside to jot it down exactly as Ellen had predicted. _Dear Diary, this afternoon I had absolutely the best sex of my life!_ I could cut off my pecker and still be happy. Back in a more realistic land, I realized I was ravenous. I wolfed down a couple slices of cold pizza, then decided to go take a hot shower. Fresh and clean and wearing my terry robe I found the cat napping at the head of the bed. I crawled up beside her. She opened her eyes listlessly, the closed them again. I smiled and imitated her. The second my eyes shut I was gone. It was dark when I woke up. The cat was gone. I got up and turned on some lights. I reheated a cup of coffee, then went to my new favorite window for a smoke. I thought about dinner, but didn't feel like doing anything about it yet. I went and brushed my teeth and thought about getting dressed, but it seemed like such a great effort for no real purpose. The robe was really the most comfortable article of clothing I owned. I went back and sat at the window, thinking, thinking, thinking. Thinking about nothing, really. Synapses in my brain just sort of firing off at random. The lights were on over at Jake and Ellen's, with all the blinds down. Then all the lights went out. Oh well, whatever. The newspaper. I realized I'd never gotten around to going out and getting one. That would give me something to do, add great purpose and meaning to my life. Come back and give greater thought to dinner. So I started thinking about simple mundane matters such as clothing. Shoes. Coins for the paper. It took tremendous effort to get to my feet. The chair didn't want me to leave. Then I was standing in the middle of the room, looking around in confusion, a blank head on my shoulder. Clothes, I remembered, oh yeah, clothes. Put some on. The silence was broken by a soft wooden rapping. What the hell was it? It came again, _tap tap tap_. Ah yes, the door. I strode over and opened it, without thinking of the peephole, without thinking of my bathrobe. Ellen stood there smiling. I couldn't say a word. She didn't wait for me to say a word, pushing the door wider, brushing past me and stepping into the middle of the livingroom. I stood where I was like a carved wooden moron. She addressed me in a perky tone, bordering on mockery, "You can close the door now if you like, Edwin. By the way, nice formal wear." "I uh, I wasn't really expecting company." I didn't much care for her attitude, but her attitude was overwhelmed by her attire. She wore a simple yellow dress that left me wondering how a few pieces of flat cloth could be sewn together to cling so tightly to so many disparate curves. The yellow was more of a tint, lemon yellow, the yellow of lemon chiffon pie. Ellen looked like a lemon chiffon pie fresh from the oven, steamy and hot and delicious. I wanted a slice, I wanted more than a slice, I wanted to plunge my face into the pie and gobble up the whole goddamn thing. "Well," she gave a pouty look of disappointment, "if you're not, if you're not in the . . . _mood_ for company right now, I guess I'd better go." It was a ruse, a ploy, a twist of bullshit, and I knew it. But the knowledge didn't matter. I _slammed_ that door shut like just like _that!_ My action brightened _her_ mood. "I thought I'd pop in," she said seductively, "because I had something I thought you might like to see. Something I wanted to show you." "Oh? What?" Ellen reached down and pinched the hem of her dress, drawing the fabric up to her waist. Jesus Fucking Christ! I'd started this day like every day of my entire life. Sure, women's underwear can be sexy gossamer things. But suddenly in the course of barely six hours I was on the verge of developing a full-blown panty fetish! The ones she was wearing were the palest lavender, cut way low on the hips, and nearly too skimpy to be seen without the aid of a microscope. "I want them," I gasped. "Then come and get them," she giggled. "Come here," I demanded. "No, you come here," Ellen commanded. She gave a slow twirl to show me all the sights. Put that way, I obeyed. I ended my approach on my knees, kissing the tiny triangle. She let the dress drop, the fabric floating down over my head. I could smell how freshly showered she was, but even so the scent of her arousal was enormous in my nose. Geez, talk about guys spending their days walking around with erections. The crotch of Ellen's panties wasn't damp--it was soaking wet. I hadn't even touched her beyond the wing brushings of my kisses. Though I quickly corrected that. I caressed the pouch with my fingers, then moved my kisses lower, making them stronger, letting my tongue dip down for some action. Fetish or no fetish, the panties had to go. I wanted to taste her directly. I stretched the elastic over the fullness of her ass, coaxing them down past her thighs until the panties became a spent leaf in autumn, drifting slowly to the ground. This was of course an awkward position for me to fully enjoy her charms, so I started nudging her backwards toward the sofa. Ellen instead pulled me to my feet. "Right idea, wrong location." She glanced to her right. "I want to be laying in your bed." I glanced to _my_ right, at the night bared beyond my windows. She noticed and hissed, "Yours are the only opened blinds in the complex! No one's watching us." This was true, and besides, she was already at the foot of the bed, facing me. Ellen stared at me as her arms contorted behind her, working the zipper down. She gave a shrug and the dress fell from her shoulders, landing around her feet like a rumpled sun. But she in fact was the sun, standing there nude blazing, leaving me nearly blinded. I squinted and blinked just to catch a glimpse of her glory. The ancient civilizations had the hierarchy of the deities absolutely correct. Except they had it totally backwards. The moon was the male's pale imitation. Modern monotheism, fuck that! I could plainly see exactly what I needed to worship. As I approached, Ellen hoisted herself back up on the bed, sitting, her legs spread at the edge. "Lose the robe, Edwin, lose it now. Then come to dinner." I knelt before my new god, and attended to my devotions. "Show me how much you love my pussy, _show me!_" I had no problem doing exactly that. The first small taste of her had me wild for more. And more, and more and more. I lavished my tongue upon her, dipping, darting and swirling. I slid my hands between the bedding and her ass to hold her all the more firmly. I moved to suckle her clit like a nipple. I longed for her to cream all over my face, and soon enough I was rewarded, again and again, hugging her lunging hips, never wanting to let her go. Eventually I had to move up on top of her or lose a pair of hanks of my hair to her hands. Ellen kissed me like she was trying to devour my face. "Go, baby, _go!_" she groaned. "Fuck me now, fuck me crazy, fuck me with that big fuck stick, fill me up with fucking, fucking fill me up, fucking fuck me, fucking fucking fuck me fuck me." With each thrust we scooted further up on the bed. I was fucking fucking fucking her whatever. I was just glad each time she peaked that I was able to relax a little for more. I'd already annotated my diary: _And then this evening I had absolutely the best sex of my life again!_ I wanted to ensure that there was no doubt in her mind as to the same thought. And so I started up again, me the coal in her tender spilling into her boiler, sending her huffing and puffing down the track some more. As she came again with a long wail I went plunging ahead, thinking there was no way I could last for another round. Ellen's cunt muscles were still contracting, pumping away at my cock, when she suddenly pushed at me and squirmed out from under me, my cock sliding out of her with an audible _pop!_ Talk about just about popping the cork! I was one shook up bottle of champagne. My look was an agonized one, astonished and afraid. All that pent-up sperm was going to back up and give me permanent brain damage! Ellen flicked the tip of my nose with her tongue, then gave me a big lewd smile to calm my fears. "Don't worry, silly!" she said, rolling us over. "We just need to be sure to get in a good view." She sank down on my shaft with a smug look of intense satisfaction. By golly, the brief breather had calmed me down enough I was ready to go another full round. I would well admit that the view was indeed very nice from this position. The sexy set of her face was well within sight, nicely focused in the mid-distance, and her breasts hung down just waiting for my hands to cup them. Nevertheless her phrasing did have me confused. Ellen read my expression, and answered. "I lied. You don't really mind too much, do you?" languidly sliding up and down my shaft. "Someone _is_ watching. But that doesn't diminish your pleasure, does it? Doesn't feel like it to me. You do like screwing me, don't you? I'm a hot little fuck, aren't I? It's pretty obvious that I'm having the time of my life with you. You get me _so_ juicy. I bet you've never had a pussy as wild as mine. Just think, we can do this all we want. We can fuck each other crazy all we want and whenever we want. As long as someone's watching. From a distance. That's the only stipulation. But it's an absolute one, honey. If you can't agree to that one condition, then it's _never again_. And I know I would greatly regret that. So, what do you say?" I had absolutely _nothing_ to say! Ellen slowed the action way down, letting the words sink in, letting me sink in. "So what do you think? It's your decision. Would you like for us to be able to keep on balling our brains out?" She wiggled lustfully. "Don't worry about right now. I'm going to ride you all the way to heaven. After all, we are being watched. Besides, this as sort of an introductory offer. And it's definitely in my best interest to do all I can to guarantee repeat performances. So how about it? Care to become the exclusive member of Ellen's Panty-of-the-Night Club? The anytime-day-or-night club." "It would be my greatest pleasure," I managed to croak. Ellen bent down over me, rubbing her breasts against my chest, her mouth making viper strikes on mine, "You better believe it, baby!" "I still don't quite get it. Even with all the lights on, it can't be a very clear or, um, satisfying view." "Oh? Well, see, Jake has a big, fat, long strong telescope, sort of like yours," she giggled, "but that's not the kind I'm talking about. He can see every hair on my pussy right now. He'll be able to watch your balls contract when you start to blow your load. He'll be able to count the drops of sperm that dribble out my slit." "But why does he sit over there and jack off when he could have all _this_," I reached down to stroke her widely split lips, "when he could have all this for himself?" "He really doesn't do that, he just watches. He gets me all he wants," she told me gently. "Jake's a wonderful lover, but he's not very highly sexed. I'm the one who can't get enough. This is our compromise. He enjoys watching me. He says I put on a better show than anything on t.v." She shot me a wicked look, "I certainly agree this is _infinitely_ better than watching t.v. Or watching me watching t.v. What do you think?" Think? She expected me to think? I couldn't think about anything other than the way her cunt was starting to convulse again, how she was grinding herself down, bucking madly up and down, how her breath had turned to pants, the panting going groaning, the groans starting to squeal, the squeals becoming shrieks and screams, the desperate sounds of a desperate pleasure, and how I was now an integral part of that pleasure, deeply imbedded in her pleasure, how her pleasure was now my pleasure, a wrenching, soul-searing pleasure, a volcano within a volcano erupting and exploding. "I," I eventually spoke, "I don't even own a t.v. And I don't think I'll be having any need of going out and buying one. Not anytime soon." Ellen smiled at me, curled up in my arms. "Good. Very _very_ good." After a long period of little kisses, she disentangled herself from our snuggle, rose out of bed and started getting dressed. She picked up the bouquet of her panties and tossed them at me with a broad smile. "For your collection!" She turned to look at the secretary. "That is a gorgeous piece," she admired. "Gorgeous piece," she repeated, giving her hips a little shimmy for my benefit. Then she shot me an incredibly saucy look. "But I expect you'll be running out of drawer space rather quickly." My mind had regained most of its functions by the time she was slipping into her shoes. I grabbed my robe and got up to escort her to the door. Something was nagging at me. I rewound the tape and found it. "Wait a minute. Back there, you said . . . you said something about Jake not usually, you know . . . . Um, _usually_?" "Oh? _Oh_. Oh yea. The couple across the courtyard at our old place. He wasn't anything special, though she helped to take up the slack." I could barely believe my ears! "Do you . . . still see them?" Ellen's face clouded with incomprehension. "See them? Why, no. We don't live there anymore." "So . . . this afternoon? The only business Jake really had to attend to was to go out and make a few phone calls?" "Of course!" she answered gaily. "He wasn't too happy about it, but we were getting sort of desperate. We both knew that without a little push you'd never get up off your stoop and follow my bouncing ass. He did get to have lunch at a diner. And we do have an answering machine now. Our old one got smashed in the move." There was the one last wrinkle to iron out. It was hardly a question, since a question implies an unknown answer. "So what if . . . what if I'd said thanks for the most splendid evening of my life, but I don't really fancy being on closed circuit t.v.?" "Oh, then," she replied without hesitation, "I guess the guy across the hall from you would have become my lucky lover. Have you ever noticed," she gushed, nearly blushing, "how he stares at my ass even more than you." I was staring at her, but not at that part of her, and certainly not in that way. "But you were by far my first choice. And I'm very grateful you made the right choice. Because," she danced her crotch against mine, "I've certainly made the right choice. So don't even think about him. I'm certainly not. I'm basically extremely monogamous by nature." Her fingers traced lines from my cheeks down to my groin, "So, what are you doing tomorrow about this time?" "I expect you'll find me standing right here with my hand on the knob." "Your hand on your knob," Ellen grinned. "_Door_knob," I scowled. Her face beamed. "_Grrrreat!_ Can't wait!" I let her out and she blew back kisses all the way down the stairs. I closed the door when I heard the front one groan open. Then I went to the window and watched her walk across the courtyard. I was staring at her ass, I suppose, not that there was enough light to see anything but the general hint of it. Their apartment was still dark, but with one window open, its blinds all the way up. I swear I saw a glint off the glass, the lens, like the wink of an eye. Really, there was nothing for me to do but cast a desultory half-wave in Jake's general direction. The lights came on in their livingroom. The telescope was gone--the glint I suppose from his shifting it while putting it away. I watched Ellen and Jake share a long hug. Then they broke apart and Jake disappeared from view, moving, no doubt, to lower the blind. In that brief moment, Ellen turned her back to the window, and as the blind rushed down I saw her reach around and give her ass a little pinch. I fetched a beer out of the fridge and went to sit by my new favorite window. I lit a cigarette and took a few drags. The cat jumped up in my lap and started sniffing at me curiously. I looked down at her, rumpled her fur. When she started to purr I answered aloud, "Yup, it's a weird one all right. That big beautiful world out there is weird and wild and utterly wonderful. _Dear Diary, Strange day today; all days are strange._ And I can scarcely wait for the next one!" ========================= Like? Yes? No? Comments welcome. losgud@hotmail.com ========================= I am archived at DejaNews under "Author" name: LUSHGOD@HOTNOMAIL.COM -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /