A 25-year-old construction worker, Ryan is bored in his relationship. He loves his girlfriend but feels trapped. He’s never physically cheated but can’t but explore other options that fulfill his sexual needs.
Kristen
Kristen is a gorgeous 24-year-old receptionist who’s engaged to be married. While she’s excited to become a wife, she’s torn between the security of married life and the thrill of being single.
I’ve never been more excited by the idea of not giving in to my urges than I am when we play our game. I guess it’s more of a game for me than him, really. It’s quite one-sided, actually.
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I’m not sure how long I’ve been waiting, it feels like minutes but it could be hours. All I know is that I can’t move from this spot until I see her. What makes the waiting all the more frustrating is that she knows this all too well, for I’ve told her time and again that I look for her as she moves from room to room. When I think back on when I first admitted my interests, she’d grinned with such sinful happiness; a woman with the face of an angel but a mind as filthy as a sewer.
I’ve never been more excited by the idea of not giving in to my urges than I am when we play our game. I guess it’s more of a game for me than him, really. It’s quite one-sided, actually.
As I turn on the lamp by the front door, I know he’s right across the street. My nipples tingle at the thought of him watching me enter the house. Waiting. Some nights, I can’t give him what he craves. Some nights, I’m not alone. But tonight, I’ve arrived home in time for just a little fun.
I slowly walk up the stairs, my fingers running along the smooth wooden railing. My skin is on fire. It takes all of me not to rip my clothes off right there on the landing. I switch the upstairs light on, letting him know I’m getting closer. I wonder if he’s touching himself. If his hands are sliding along the soft, smooth skin of his shaft. I bite my lip, fantasizing about tasting him. My senses are electrified now as I enter the bedroom and turn on the light. Our signal.
The curtains are already open just wide enough for him to clearly see inside. I notice a dim light streaming from his bedroom window like a beacon. He’s watching. Warmth floods my body, settling in my crotch, my desire growing. I stand in front of the window, grabbing the clip from my hair and letting my long locks fall free. I close my eyes, letting out a low moan of relief. I toss the hair clip aside, grabbing the hem of my tank top. As I begin to lift it, I stop and snicker. Not so fast. I can’t give it up that easily.
I turn, my back facing the window. He’ll have to wait for what he wants. I pull the tank top up over my head, dropping it to the floor. I reach around, taking my time as I slowly unclip my bra. My large tits fall free as the tight material releases from around my rib cage. I let out another soft moan, tossing my undergarments aside. I feel exhilarated now that my hair and breasts are free. Knowing he’s watching me only intensifies this feeling.
I run my hands along the sides of my body until they come to rest at the top of my pants. I slowly pull them down over my hips, taking my panties down with them. The window stops just above my ass, giving him the slightest glimpse at my tailbone and full cheeks. I bite my lip, feeling the heat from his gaze. His eyes are all over my naked body, just the way I’ve imagined his hands so many nights before. My pussy throbs with desire as I remove the final bits of clothing.
I grab the tank top off the floor, covering my chest, and moving closer to the window. I’m briefly out of sight for a moment. Making him wait is my favorite part. As I step into view, I clutch the white fabric to my chest, my nipples alive with desire beneath the soft material. I casually peek up and down the street, as if nothing is amiss. As if there’s no man across the street watching my every move, yearning for my body and mine for his. I love playing innocent, especially since it’s so completely opposite of who I am. Oh, if he only knew, I think to myself.
I finally decide he’s waited long enough and I drop the shirt from my grasp, exposing my breasts. My nipples instantly harden at the thought of his eyes on my body. I bite my lip, drunk with power over the show I’m putting on. I imagine him gasping at the sight of my nude body. His cock springing to life. I want to give him more. Since I can’t give him what he truly desires, instead, I reach up and firmly squeeze my flesh before twirling my nipples between each finger. I close my eyes, picturing his hands on my body. My clit grows stiff as I expertly work my nipples, knowing he’s watching. Wondering if he’s touching himself, too.
Before I can get myself too excited, I hear footsteps on the stairs. He’s home. Disappointment floods my body. Before I close the curtains, I give a playful smile and wave, my only consultation is knowing I can picture him while we make love, the way I do every night.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been waiting, it feels like minutes but it could be hours. All I know is that I can’t move from this spot until I see her. What makes the waiting all the more frustrating is that she knows this all too well, for I’ve told her time and again that I look for her as she moves from room to room. When I think back on when I first admitted my interests, she’d grinned with such sinful happiness; a woman with the face of an angel but a mind as filthy as a sewer.
Suddenly, I spot the landing light come on upstairs. I lower myself to ensure nobody can see me if they’re looking this way, then return to watch to see where she moves next. It could be that this is a false alarm, that she’s not going to her bedroom like I hope. However, if she does go in there, I know that I’m in for a treat. My girl’s good to me like that. To my genuine delight, I see the dim lighting of her bedroom come on, the room within illuminated for all to see; I can see the overflowing wardrobes, the textured pattern of the wallpaper, and now I can see her.
As she moves further into view, I watch as she lets her hair down, her wavy, shoulder-length locks happy of the release. Now that her hair is free, she busies herself with getting undressed, starting with her tank top; just as she’s about to lift it so that I can see her bra, I notice a faint smile cross her face. Her eyes now looking towards my house, she gives a performative twirl as she turns her back to me and removes her top that way, leaving me with nothing but a view of her back. Some men would be frustrated by this, but for me it’s all part of the tease.
My gaze never faltering, I enjoy the way her hands reach around to her back and unclasp her bra, the outline of her ample breasts catching the light as she briefly turns and tosses her underwear onto the bed behind her. Her upper half now bare, she slides her hands into the waistband of her joggers and starts to peel them down. The last glimpse I can comfortably see is the very top of her ass, the way the small of her back curves. I want to kiss that part of her so badly. Then again, I want to kiss all of her so badly, to the point that I fear for my sanity the longer I’m unable to touch her.
After some obscured undressing, she stands up straight to stretch out her body. It’s maddening to know she’s naked, her skin just waiting for my touch, yet I can’t get anywhere near. Knowing all too well how overwhelmed I must be, she reaches for her discarded top and covers her breasts as she turns, making sure I have to work to get the satisfaction of seeing her. It’s a game we play often.
Taking her time, she sways her hips as she walks around the bed, briefly hidden from view behind the curtains; those fleeting seconds are the worst. I hate being unable to see her at the best of times, but when I know she’s naked, it’s all the more infuriating. Then, she’s back in view, clearer than ever as she looks out her bedroom window at the street below.
To anyone passing by, she’d seem like a normal woman absentmindedly watching the world go by outside her bedroom window. I, on the other hand, know better than that. I know that sooner or later, she’s going to drop that top and show me exactly what I want. Crazed though she makes me, she’s worth the wait.
Minutes later, she’s still playing dumb, though her coy expression gives away her ulterior motive. If I could get my hands on her, I’d spank her until her ass was red… and she’d love it. You just know she would, her eyes give away those indiscretions of hers she relishes so much. Just when I’m about to lose my goddamn mind, the material of her top drops away. It’s like the curtain of a performance coming down at the end, it’s mesmerising to watch. Only rather than having the scene be whisked away from me, I’m given a view that’ll forever stay with me. Her breasts are so full and round, their pale skin and delicately pink nipples even more glorious thanks to the backdrop of the lighting.
The grin on her face is massive, much like my lust for her right now. A lust that only deepens when she straightens her back and shimmies in full view of me, her breasts dancing, calling for me to come touch them. Then, in a special treat just for me, she grabs both of her breasts and squeezes them, her fingers massaging her nipples. It’s quite the show, one I’m incredibly grateful to witness.
Sadly however, it ends all too soon, as when a shadow in the doorway comes up the stairs and into view, it signals to us both that her partner is on his way upstairs. Hastily, she has to draw the curtains and cut off my view, though not before she gives me a playful wave goodbye.
