Message-ID: <18186eli$9812220436@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: suenewhamp@aol.com (SueNewHamp) Subject: Sue's 15th: Catty Corner 2/2 (mf, voy, exhib) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d 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: <19981221212426.00840.00001645@ng-bw1.aol.com> NOTE: This story is, of course, for adults only -- so don't read it if you don't think you can be mature about it. Reading and writing these stories should be acts of fantasy, and I hope that you can keep your notions of real and fantasy life separate in your mind. I know I can. If you would like to let me know what you think, or if you have a follow-up fantasy (which is something that I REALLY like), you can reach me at suenh@kear.tdsnet.com ... but I can't promise to return your emails... I do have some other things to do in my real life! ********************************** CATTY CORNER part 2 of 2 By Sue What did I want? I was so sexually keyed up, but getting together with this stranger seemed too complex for so whatever time it was. And anyway, the theme for this evening seemed to be voyeurism, so that should be the way that it reached its conclusion. So I decided that we could give each other a show. I put up my hand to let him know that he should stay put in his room. He looked disappointed for a moment, until he saw my hands go to the front of my green satin blouse. As I unbuttoned it and let it fall to the floor behind me, his facial expression turned from apprehension to curiosity, and finally to admiration, as my breasts came into view, wrapped by a sheer lace brassiere. I hardly ever wear one, but for this evening of business, I thought it would be better to avoid distracting the men with the sight of my nipples poking at the front of my blouse. I flipped off my shoes, and then I unzipped the side of my skirt and let it fall to my ankles, where I kicked it aside. I undid my braid, letting my long blond hair come free and loose and kinky -- just the way that I felt at the moment! My body took up a swaying, sensuous dance as I ran my hands up my thighs, over my tummy, and onto my swelling breasts. I unsnapped the catch in the center and let the filmy cups hang limply draped over my breasts, with the material catching on the dark jutting nipples. With a shimmy of my shoulders, my breasts came free completely, jiggling like bowls of jello. The bra slid off of my shoulders and onto the floor, adding to the jumbled pile of clothes. Only my panties were left, and before I stripped them off, I looked up to see how my observer was doing. He had shed his robe, and was now standing completely naked except for a thin gold chain and medal; probably a Saint Christopher, perfect for a traveler, but not so good for a practicing Catholic staring out his hotel window at a voluptuous naked woman dancing for his attention only a very few feet from his similarly naked body. Right now, his fervor was not religious. It was passionate, as was clear from the attitude and altitude of his cock, which was now pointing well above the horizontal. It had a curved shape that made the head of his cock point straight upwards, almost touching his belly button. Such a deliciously young cock on his mature body. And it was still weaving and dancing like an eel out of water. As I observed its meandering dance, he reached down and grabbed it, starting an extremely slow stoking. I was so close to him that I could see a couple of drops of clear precome squeeze out of the tip from just the first pump. The viscous liquid smeared over the broad, purple glans, reflecting all the atrium lights like silver glitter. As he continued his slow fondling of his 8 inch cock, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my flowery satin panties and pulled them down to my knees. Naturally, the crotch was sort of stuck into the set crease of my cunt, and I had to pull it out before I could pull my feet up and out of the underwear. Now I was completely exposed to this strangers view, and I wasted no time before dipping one hand down to my crotch, diving a finger into the puffy wet folds of my cunt. That first touch on my clitoris was almost an electric shock, making my entire body shudder. My eyes were now glued to the sight of his cock being pumped with a gradually accelerating pace, and I took the fingers of my other hand to pull apart my outer labia and matted cunt hair, so that he could see the glossy pink flesh of my inner cunt. I lifted one foot up onto the sill of the window, which was almost two feet off the floor. Bending my knee away from him spread my cunt area even more, so that I was totally open and revealed. I used only one finger to play with my clitoris, curling the other up into my palm they didn’t interfere with his view. I swiped back and forth over my hard clit, occasionally dipping down into my vagina. Doing that made my inner lips spread more so that he could see the jagged opening more easily. I wanted to ensure that his view of my wanton masturbation was as unhampered as I could make it. Judging be the mesmerized look on his face, and the red flush to his skin, I obviously was having the desired effect on him. ...And myself too, for I was rapidly approaching my orgasm. Part of me wanted to let my legs buckle so that I could lay back on the plush carpeting. And I wanted to clench my eyes shut as the orgasm wracked over me. But povercoming those desires was the devilish to watch the stranger have his orgasm before I had mine. I slowed my finger as it flipped over my protruding clitoris, and staring shamelessly at his cock and hand, I took note of his technique. He was stoking up and down the shaft, squeezing hard on the down stroke and releasing much of the pressure when his hand slid back toward the plum-colored glans. The rim around the head was flared out away from the shaft, and his fingers bumped against this pliant barrier, pressing the lip up towards his pisshole without letting his index finger or thumb ever ride over the rim onto the come-streaked glans. He seemed to take great pleasure from rubbing that distended rim, and when I looked closer, I could see that it was covered with many dozens of teeny little white nubs. I’d seen these on other men, but never as many, never so pronounced. Maybe there are special nerve endings in these bumps, for he was concentrating his efforts on swiping across this area more and more, applying a sort of twist with his wrist at the peak of each stoke. And he took his other hand and used it to start juggling his balls, which were hanging pendulously, surrounded by lots of wrinkled flesh and gray hair. He was careful to massage his balls from behind, so as not to hide them from my view. What a gentleman! His fingers prodded into the scrotal sac from behind, pushing the veiled globes forwards and upwards, toward me. I licked my lips lewdly as I watched, HIs cock was harder and longer than ever, and the head was even fatter and darker. Precome was dribbling out profusely, and he stopped milking at the shaft and took the slimy head into his palm and started to knead and twist it. He knew exactly what to do to bring his excitement to the most hedonistic and ecstatic finish, and he was finally ready to explode. He again slid his hand down onto the shaft of his cock, and he moved it up and down in tiny increments, so fast that it was more like he was vibrating it that stroking it. In fact his whole body started to quiver, eventually punctuating with an explosion of semen that blasted out from the tip and flew across the narrow space, smashing against the glass window pane. It hit the surface so hard that it splattered in all directions, soon to be joined by another glob of gooey come, and another. both his hands were pumping the liquid from deep in his balls, up though the long stiff rod, and arcing through the air. It was an enchanting sight to see the rivulets of semen dribbling down the glass, and pooling on the metal sill. The grayish-white color matched his hair head and body hair exactly. As the final act of his performance proceeded, I reinvigorated my own manipulations of my clitoris, occasionally harvesting some lubrication that seeped from my cunt. The aroma of the evaporating juices filled my nostrils with the zesty fragrance. As his spurting orgasm finally subsided, mine kicked into high gear, and I let my spine arch backwards, splaying my crotch wider, thrusting it forwards. This pushed the back of my hand against the glass, propelling my finger even harder against my clitoris than I could with just the tired muscles of my hand. My other hand let go from spreading my outer lips, and I seized one of my heaving breast in that hand, palpating the hot swollen flesh in my palm, tweaking my nipple with my fingertips. Of course, all of this was just what the doctor ordered, for it only took a few seconds before my own climax began to wash over me. I had been close for so very long, and I had teased it out while I watched the stranger finish off his orgasm. But now it was definitely my turn to complete my celebration. My finger strummed hard over my clitoris, so fast that it must have been perceived as a hummingbird-wing blur to the man. I grunted and groaned as the first waves of ecstasy pulsed through me like electric shocks, and then wave after wave followed. My head was tipped back so that I could see only the ceiling, but I’m sure that the show I was putting on for the old man was spectacular, I could feel my juices spreading onto the back of my hand, smearing on the glass just as he had smeared his thick come onto his window. Eventually, the energetic stimulation of my finger was too much,and when I pulled my finger away and up to my other breast, I found that I could just barely push my cunt forwards enough so that it made direct contact with the glass, I wobbled my hips around so that I was squashing my cunt lips against the cold sheet of glass, splaying the pulpy flesh and spreading the clear secretions. Finally, my legs and libido gave out. Looking behind me, I saw an armchair close by, so I let my knees buckle and collapsed into the comfortable embrace of the cushy upholstery. As I did so, I hadn’t a moment to relax before I heard the phone ringing. What the Hell, I thought, and I looked over at the clock on the side table. It was after 4:00 in the morning! Who could be calling me now, of all times. But I reached over and picked it up. “My name is Charlie, and I wanted you to know that you were absolutely spectacular. I shall relish the memory of our mutual masturbation forever. Thank you so much. I don’ want to bother you in any way at all, but if you want to talk -- or whatever -- call me back. I’m sure you know my room number, Bye.” And with that he was off the phone. I hadn’t had a chance to speak at all. I looked through my window towards his room, but the curtain was now closed. The room number was right there in large gold numbers on the face of his door. Do you think that I called him? If so, what happened next? Maybe I’ll write the rest of this story someday... or maybe you will write it for us. I’d be most interested in hearing the stranger’s side of this story, or it’s continuation. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----