Sexy Slut And The Voyeur: Part 1
I return from the gala knowing that you will be there my voyeur, watching me, touching yourself. I thought about this moment the entire evening, as I sipped the champagne and listened to the endless drone of the city’s intelligentsia chattering incessantly about this painting or that sculpture. Gallery openings are not my scene usually, but a long-time client had paid me well to attend, wearing this sexy, form-fitting long gown that you can see me in now, as my apartment light goes on. Form-fitting is not enough of a description, do you think?
I turn a bit, admiring myself in the mirror but also giving you a full look at the way the fabric clings to the curves of my tight little ass and hips. No panty lines here. Trust me. Arching my back ever so slightly, I give you a perfect angle. See how my nipples, hard in the slightly cool apartment, are outlined so perfectly. Every man in the fucking place snuck a look tonight, trust me, but only when those uppity-bitch wives were oohing or aaahing about something else. Don’t get me wrong. I am not complaining. That is why my client hired me, to be watched and admired. Turned him on, knowing that other men were wanting what he had brought with him. A quick handjob in the limo on the way home, and he was one very very happy man.
Me though, I was turned on by knowing that you are watching, and have been for all these weeks now.
I did not always know you are sitting there in your dark bedroom, stroking your beautiful cock as you admired me from afar. In fact, I had no idea whatsoever, until I caught a flash of light late that Saturday night (remember, my friend Lisa and I had a bit too much wine and got into some serious girl-on-girl play). A passing car bounced in a pothole, sending its high beam scattering up and down, over and out of the street. It caught something in your room — a watch, the lens of your binoculars (you use them, don’t you), or something else. Totally random. But enough for me to see your shadow, and even in my drunken, cum-sweating stupor, I realized that I was on show for your own private voyeur movie.
And I love it. More than that, it turns me on, knowing your cock dances when it sees me, that you stroke long and hard strokes as you watch me, and that your cum explodes so intensely every time because of me. I bring out the voyeur in you, don’t I? What part of my young, tight body turns you on the most, I wonder sometimes? My athletic long legs? My nicely trimmed pussy? Or my titties, with these wonderfully responsive nipples? (I begin to tease them through the gown, just for you.) Or is there something else about me that makes you so fucking hard you want to explore? I wish I knew… I could make sure that you saw it often, just as you wish you could.
And you get off a bit, too, knowing that every man in that fucking gallery tonight wanted to take me home, lie back, and let me ride him until he could no longer hold back. Admit it.
Just pour me a nice glass of wine. Watch how my soft, pouty lips caress the edge of the glass. Imagine what they could do to the tip of your cock, which I suspect is big and strong now, ready for action. Putting the glass aside, I begin the long, slow process of sliding out of this damn gown. Heels have to come off first, which gives you the perfect view of my sweet ass as I bend over to undo them. I take longer than I should, knowing you are imagining your strong hands on my hips, fucking my hard from behind as I bend over this way just for you. Where are we? In the kitchen, as I grab the edge of the counter? Or the shower, with my hands, pressed on the wet tile? Or are we on the bed, my hands gripping the headboard as the whole fucking thing rattles under the force of your cock pounding my wet, inviting pussy?
Standing upright again, I slowly unzip the back of this amazing gown, letting you see both the arch of my amazing back (can you feel your lips as they trace my spine, slowly) as well as the amazing manicure I got just today.
Subtle pink, for the evening, but so sharp…. all the better to scratch you with, my dear.
Stepping out of the gown as it drops to the floor, you see the whisper of panties and bra that concealed every so barely the assets (I giggle at my own word) throughout the evening. Playfully, I slip back into the heels, which make my seductively long legs even more shapely, and push my ass up ever so perfectly. I spin in front of my mirror, just for you.
I am just beginning to unhook my bra when the phone rings.
Back in a minute, voyeur lover. Do not move, do not finish without me.
Your very own,
