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We barely knew each other, in person. Online we were friends who flirted. We were slow that day to introduce serious flirting to our dynamic, being our first day around each other. The sexual tension was there though - “innocent” unspoken touches, extra-long glances. It was an overnight visit of the friendly sort and we had not planned or talked about anything sexual happening. I was staying with him in his little apartment to save money. Ever the gentleman, he gave me his bed and he took the couch. From the bed I could see the couch - I told you, small apartment.

I told him that I don’t like to be too warm when I sleep (which is true) and so used that as explanation for my minimal clothing while sleeping. Black lace panties and a plain simple black camisole that I purposely lowered the straps on to be as low as possible. No bra. He told me he’d get up before me and shower first, so as to let the tiny water heater recoup before he woke me up. I never clued him in to how light of a sleeper I am….as soon as daylight broke I was pretty much awake. As I watched him sleeping I quietly rearranged the sheet and made sure that he would have an achingly good view of me “sleeping”. One leg outside of the sheet and some ass showing. My breasts nearly falling out of my top. My head was partially buried under the pillow from sleep and I stayed that way; it shielded my face so that he would think I was still sleeping.

I watched him slowly stretch awake. As I precaution I lowered my lids but I still watched as he looked over to see if I was sleeping. My heart raced as I watched him stare at me, wondering if he knew I was awake. His blanket fell away as he leaned forward for his water bottle and could see through the thin fabric of the cotton pants his hard morning cock. He kept looking at me, looking away. I knew how much skin I had exposed. The curve of my ass cheek. A portion of a pale leg. So much cleavage that one nipple was almost out.

I noticed him making the effort to be as silent in his actions as possible. His hand slipped under his waistband….much to my dismay, it stayed under there. But I could see his hand slowly moving, slowly stroking his cock. I think I stopped breathing for a moment. Immediately I was overcome with arousal and could feel my throbbing clit - it took all my self control to keep myself still, keep my hand from trying to relieve the ache and test the wetness. His head leaned back onto the couch for a minute, lost. Then he turned his head my way and stared. And stroked. Suddenly he stopped, withdrew his hand and leant forward to reach underneath the couch. Pulled out a small bottle of something, I couldn’t tell what it was but I quickly knew the purpose. His clean hand pulled the waistband away and down a little. The lubed hand returned to his cock, of course. His gaze returned to my body. Finally his eyes closed and his grip on his shiny beautiful cock tightened. Faster. Soon his body stiffened, his mouth dropped open. I heard small gasps for air. Saw his cum shoot up his chest. He relaxed for a minute as he caught his breath but then quickly looked my way and proceeded to clean up.

I didn’t know what to do. I knew my panties were soaked through. I knew that I was beyond aroused. But I also knew that he would be embarrased.

So I slowly moved, stretched, appeared to have just woken up. I moved the pillow off my head and pulled up the sheet in a fake attempt at modesty. I smiled a sleepy good morning to him and my eyes fell on the water bottle. I asked him if I could have a sip of his water, pretty please, and held out my hand. When he got to the bed I scooted over so that he would sit. I took a drink and then set the bottle on the bedside table; I laid back and looked at him without saying anything more. Thinking. I casually, playfully, told him to lay with me for a minute - I needed a snuggle for a few before I let him go shower.

My head on his bare chest, I melded my body to his. I trailed my hand down his chest…..and my fingers brushed over a small wet patch. I felt him tense up, I felt his heart beating faster. Mine was too. I went back to the wet spot on his tummy and lightly rubbed it into his skin. I couldn’t look at him but I said “That was a very hot show you gave me.” I swear he stopped breathing for a minute. I tilted my head back and looked up at him. Once I saw the blush of embarrasment, the wide eyes of shock, I scooted up until my face met with his. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I threw a leg over his and firmly pressed my pussy to his hip - covered in nothing but meshy lace that was cool with wetness. Soaked with wetness. If that didn’t make it obvous to him how much I loved watching, my kiss certainly did.

It was such a relief that the nervous, uncertain sexual tension was gone now. And boy did the weekend take a totally different turn from there on out…

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Yesterday while talking to Sage, an exhibitionistic desire was brought to the surface. I have thought about it before, but never had anyone to tell.

Do you recall Madonna’s old video for Open Your Heart? Those of you my age and older will….I won’t embed the video, I don’t want to subject you to watching it if 80’s music videos are not your thing ;)

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I don’t know what reminded me of her video, but Sage and I were talking about my last fantasy piece of the all girl threesome. And what you all would pay to be even just a mere silent witness to that fantasy in the flesh.

Even with the protection of the glass, could I do this? Alone, or with another woman or more? Growing up I played the piano. I took lessons for something like 11 years until I graduated high school. Due to the ADD, I simply slowed down in the learning process as I got older. My ability to focus on doing two separate things at once weakened. My ability to practice at home while other things went on also weakened. But with these lessons in classical piano from a teacher with many students, came the inevitable recitals. Recitals for the students and their families, and judged recitals in the big city. I hated it, I hated being watched as I performed. A piece I could perform in solitude to utter perfection was suddenly marred with split seconds of hesitation, or fumbling trembling fingers would hit extra keys. Later in college, when I would have the urge to play again, I would wait until the student union was nearly closed and was as empty as I could get it. Only then would I shut the door and play. Trying out for stage band in high school was even worse. Once, I humiliated myself into thinking I could sing. Right. The words left me, I couldn’t remember the notes, it all just left and boy did I fuck up royally.

But wait….you’re not judging me, are you…

I tend to forget that men are usually quite simple in their base desires. I don’t mean that in a disrespectful way, and really perhaps women are too.

Perhaps I could start out slow. The booths darkened, the stage dimly lit. Surrounded by toys, distracted by music, I am sure I could soon lose myself to something much farther beyond Madonna’s peep show. Could I get some female companions to join me, could we get off on the combined thrill of each other and being watched? I wonder how long it would take me to discard all clothing?

I want to be watched. I want to slowly lose the dregs of performance and forget you’re all there for the most part. Only realizing that all eyes are glued on me when I feel the first waves of orgasm roll over.

As I am writing this, I have just been informed that I might find this sort of thing and it might be a reality, should I ever visit a swingers club someday….the right swingers club. That is perhaps even more intoxicating. To know there are couples in those booths, watching me, almost certainly fucking each other in some manner. When the lights slowly fade on inside those booths, will I see a beautiful brunette and her partner….naked and sharing a seat? And by sharing I mean that he is sitting in the chair and she is in his lap, straddling him but facing me. As they watch me they are languidly fucking - she moves up down back and forth on his cock; his hands roam her breasts, her belly, her clit. Would this scene cause me to imitate? Using the sole prop on the stage, the chair, and my suction-cup dildo? (I don’t yet own one but this fantasy now, just this very moment, added it to my short list of “need soon” toys) Will I see a sexy man, black hair and eyes boring a hole into me, staring back at me as if challenging me while his partner is on her knees and sucking his cock? Will he make it clear to me that I am the sole target of his concentration and thoughts?

This is an off and on fantasy I have thought about for years, and only now voiced. Consider yourselves…….? Lucky? Informed? Invited?

{On a side note, this is my 100th post!}

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The weather was starting to turn colder, the leaves began their change to color. This morning I decided to go for a stroll through the woods at a nearby state park with trails. I tend to be a bit of a hermit, so I decided to go early in the morning. With my headphones on and music going, I started off on an easy trail. About 5 minutes in and I had yet to see another soul, which was just perfect. I had my digital camera tucked in my pocket in the hopes I would catch a few wild animals at this hour if I walked quietly enough.

But what I saw out of the corner of my eye was not an animal; it was wild though. I stopped the moment I caught movement and looked for the source. As I stopped the Ipod and removed my headphones I saw the obvious flash of skin in the foliage. About 15 feet back into the woods from the trail was a young guy. He was leaning his back against a tree, facing mostly away from the trail. His pants and boxers pulled down to his knees, he was lost in his own little world, masturbating at a slow and deliberate pace. I stood there frozen, my heart racing, not knowing what to do. Stay? Leave? Avoid looking his direction but make some noise?

As I stood there a minute longer, he still had no idea I was there. The shock and shy fear slowly left me and the devious side came out. I remembered the camera in my pocket. There is such a plus to digital cameras -well, many pluses - but I always have all sounds turned off on mine, in case I need to catch a cat mid-dream. Or as luck would have it, a man, mid-jerk. Slowly, stealthily I pulled out the camera and turned it on. Staring at him through the LCD screen, zoomed in a bit. I kept his face in the frame, to make sure he still didn’t see me. At first I snapped a few photos but then I hit the record button. Hey…if he was going to take the risk, he should accept the consequence. My heart rate had slowed considerably from the hummingbird speed it was at a few minutes ago, but the adrenaline rush was quickly turning to lust. My lips parted and jaw slackened, I stared in awe.

Very soon in, his hand began moving faster. One hand stroking his cock, the other I think was wrapped around the base, or perhaps cupping his balls. At that moment I welcomed the chill in the morning air as I felt my cheeks and cleavage flush from arousal.  His hips arced away from the tree and I heard a small moan escape his lips. I crept forward on the trail a few feet closer, eyes on the camera, camera on him. You could have taken my pulse with a palm cupped to my cunt, and I was well aware of the dull ache and wetness building. His hand began pumping his cock in a blur and the small moan became a deep, primal male groan.

The moment he began to come I deliberately stepped off the trail into dry leaves and sticks; his eyes flew open and he looked over at me at once shocked and thrilled as he took in both me and the camera, his cock still pulsing out the remains of his orgasm. I would later relish that moment - the combination on his face of the thrill of being caught, the ecstasy of orgasm and the shock of seeing me with the camera - when I replayed it over and over again on my computer.

I shut off the camera and pocketed it, and walked toward him. He was standing there frozen, breathing heavily, hand still on his cock. I wrapped a hand around his cock, covering the sticky head, languidly stroking just a bit. As I looked up at him, right into his deep brown eyes, I cocked an eyebrow and said:

“I wonder what view the next hiker will be getting?”

There’s a park I like to go to. It’s usually not very occupied, allowing me a better comfort level of just being somewhere alone.
And affords the luxury of being naughty, as well, if I feel the urge.

I have a spot I go to - full, lush well-kept grass with a few benches near the walkway. Little bit back there’s a picnic table I can toss my stuff on, or sit at if the ground becomes too unrelenting. If I feel naughty, I can move my blanket back behind the picnic table and I go unnoticed to most people walking.

The day in question I went to the park with a purpose. I wore a skirt - left the panties in the car. My top was of the faux-wrap style (meaning, for the men here, that the top portion is styled to look the way a robe would look - one side of fabric “wrapped” over the other. Quite honestly…unless I tack some of these tops closed with a stitch or two, they can gape and show a whole breast if I’m not careful.) and I removed my bra in the car as well. I had two books - one was the actual fiction I was currently engrossed in, the other was one of my short-story erotic anthology books. I had everything needed to relax for a good hour or two. And, oh yes, a discreet bullet vibe. What, you didn’t expect me to be without one now did you?

I laid down on my blanket on my stomach, facing the walkway. I’m about oh….I’m terrible at judging distance…15 feet back from the walkway? 20? At first I’m all alone. I lay there reading - my cleavage is exposed as my shirt gapes open a bit, my legs bent with my feet curled towards my ass. After a little while I notice this man sitting on the bench on the opposite side of the walkway, facing me. He is smoking, and reading a small thin paperback. I think I’ve seen him here before. Very dark hair. A little bit older than me. Handsome. Bad-boy aura about him. Hmmmm….

I slowly and casually let one hand drift underneath the fabric of my shirt, brush over a hardening nipple, and arrange things so that I’m showing off even more of my breasts. I go back to reading and out of the corner of my eye I think I see him staring at me. As I glance up, though, he is reading. I change positions, rolling over to lay on my back. My head still closer to the walkway but if I turn my head to the side I can see him perfectly. He can see now a great view down my shirt which is gaping more as my breasts fall towards my collarbone. He can see my legs which are bent up a bit and I’ve let my skirt slide down, exposing more leg. I glance over and catch him watching me for a split second. I smile to myself. Game on.

I read, and slowly my hand toys with fabric here and there - exposing, covering up. Trailing over my skin. I see him shift on the bench a few times. Lowers his book to his lap and reads from a bit of a distance. Oh gee, I wonder why? In the guise of getting out from the sun I move my blanket back towards that picnic table more. Not behind it but beside it, and I’m in the shade. I resume my position. This time, my hand trails down my thigh and my legs part a bit. I idly run a finger up and down my wet slit. I see movement and I freeze. He got up and moved to a closer bench. He has abandoned his book; he is sitting there casually smoking, eyes narrowed and now staring blatantly at me with one hand on the bulge in his pants. Cocky fucker.

I stared him right back and smiled slightly. I sat up for a moment and slyly pulled out my bullet vibe. As I looked over my shoulder in one direction scanning for people, I noticed him doing the same. All clear. Books are forgotten. As I press the vibrating bullet to my clit I slip a hand under my shirt and pinch a nipple. When I pull away my breast is left almost completely exposed. I close my eyes, and lose myself for a minute in the exquisite vibrations. I sense a change in the air around me and look up to see him walking towards me. He walks past me and sits on the picnic table bench, facing the table and me. He can see my exposed cunt. He is close enough to smell my arousal. His cock is now in his hand and he is staring at my fingers and the vibe, just watching intently.

After a few minutes I get up and sit beside him on the bench, but I am facing away from the table, towards the woods. I stare into his green eyes for a moment and then watch him stroke. He trails his other hand first up to my shoulder and then down to my collarbone, and then lightly caressing and teasing my breast, nipple. He pushes the fabric aside more. Leaves me exposed. His hand falls to my lap. Pulls my skirt to reveal my cunt to broad daylight. Slips a finger around in my slutty wetness, easily slides one into my slit, and oh-so-briefly penetrates me. He gets up from the bench and stands in front of me. Back about 4 feet, watching my bullet being massaged over my clit, seeing how wet I am. Stroking. I am mesmerized. I barely notice as he slowly moves forward. Closer. He’s almost between my legs now .That beautiful cock about a foot away from my face. He whispers Cum…cum for me. With me. His breathing is ragged, I know he’s close. I turn the bullet up to high speed and my eyelids flutter closed, my head leans back and my mouth opens a bit. He whispers to me again to cum for him. I hold my breath for a few seconds as I feel the wave of oncoming orgasm and then I moan as loudly as I dare. As I cum, he does too. It squirts on my chest, hot drops on my lips.

He smirks and rubs his thumb over the cum on my lips and shoves it in my mouth. I stare at him and suck it clean as I hear two people quietly chatting as they walk by us on the walkway.

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Answer me, do you remember this?
Our first…..seems so long ago...

Part 2 - I am unsure if this is the end, or if I might continue. After all, this is only our heroine’s first weekend at the apartment. Part 1 is here.

I felt like a wild animal the next day, pacing. Waiting. Watching. It was an overcast day - windy, slightly cool - weather that begged for the windows to be open during the day. When I realized that my eyesight did not rival that of a hawk’s, I pulled out my camera.

No, stop that. Not to take pictures but to merely view through the zoom lens; it was in lieu of binoculars. I sat back a bit from the window, I didn’t want anyone to see the camera and freak out. Although the site of a naked woman aiming a large camera at your window might seem less intimidating than a man doing the same. I didn’t really expect to see much during the day. I just wanted to look, to peek, to pry. Bits of everyday life floated in front of me. Nothing titillating.

As it became dark out, I was on the prowl even more. I kept the apartment dark and the blinds all open, hoping to see something later. I ate; I showered; I read - all with lights at a minimum. Later that night, I caught site of the guy directly across from me. At first he was wearing a towel, his hair wet from the shower. Soon the towel came off; he was comfortable being nude for no apparent reason. When he sat down on his couch and aimed the remote at his tv, I became bored. A few minutes later I glanced up again to see that perhaps the tv wasn’t boring, after all - he was idly stroking his hard cock. I just watched, enthralled, for a good few minutes. It is one thing for a lover to perform for you - something totally different to spy on someone ’s private time when they think they are alone. Alone and uninhibited.

I quietly dragged a chair over to the open window. I didn’t want to close it, that action might catch his eye. I brought my heels up to rest on the windowsill; naked except for the darkness cloaking me. I ran my hands over my lips, my breasts, my belly, my cunt, as idly as he was touching himself. When he began to get more into himself, I allowed concentration as well. My fingers firmly on auto-pilot working my soaking wet cunt, circling my clit; my other hand on my breast. Suddenly he reached over and shut off his lamp. Then the tv, and it was dark in his apartment. I was so disappointed. Then I was scared. He came to his window and opened it. My heart was racing; he couldn’t see anything….right?

Wrong. That was obvious to me because of how much I could see of him as he stood as close to the window as I was, in my seat. The city lights illuminated us in bright patches and dark shadows. He could see me. I was wide open and exposed. I froze until he smiled, slightly, and started pumping his cock harder than before. He intended to cum for me. Well the least I could do is return the favor. I reached for my little clit vibe and just tucked it under my leg, to use when I could sense he was close to orgasm, to ensure we would come together. My eyes didn’t leave his body; my hands roamed and rubbed of their own accord as I stared intently at him. Amazed by the sight of his cock in his hand; curious about the expressions on his face. I saw his chest rise and fall with his deep breathing. My own was labored as well, my body flushed from pleasure and the rush of the risk.

His free hand reached out and gripped the edge of the window frame and he groaned a little - I took my cue to reach for my vibe and I pressed it hard to my clit. He was staring at my cunt and then suddenly looked right into my eyes. I could not hold back my moans as I felt the first tingle course through my body. As my cunt began to pulse and gush I heard him come and watched as his body convulsed a bit and his cock twitched its final release. We stared at each other and just grinned for a few seconds before backing away from the windows. I collapsed on the couch, trying to regain my control and let it sink in what I had just witnessed, what I had just done.

Part 1 of….? As an aside to my readers: I hope my fiction gets you off as much as it gets me off ;) I either run for my vibe as soon as I’m done writing, or I have the bullet tucked in my panties while I’m composing.
I had just lost my job and agreed to stay at a friend’s apartment in New York City for a two weeks to take care of things while she was on an extended trip.

I arrived as she was leaving, and she handed off the keys with a list of things to know. Her place was on the 6th floor. Small, but with a few redeeming qualities. At first I thought one redeeming quality would be the large windows scattered about, until I pulled back the sheer curtains to reveal that most of the windows had no view - unless you count someone else’s window as a view. The other building seemed to be about 30 feet away and I saw a lot of windows. I decided to wait until later to check out how many different apartments were within view and perhaps do a little spying.

Nightfall. Friday. I kill all the lights and have a peek. Nothing. Too early perhaps?

10 p.m. Hmmm, not bad. One window down and to the left appears to be a date that is going very well. I watch as she straddles him on the couch, poor boy seems to be taking his time (the clueless thing). It is obvious to me, the recent observer, that she is very into him the way she is slowly and almost imperceptibly grinding herself against him. Come -on- man, let those damn hands roam! Yeah, there ya go….now lower…oh bingo! His hands hit her ass and he tentatively grabs it and pulls her closer. Her head goes back in a silent moan of pleasure while his lips find the sweet spot on her neck.

If she’s even half as wet as I am, he has to know she wants fucked. I opened my robe and tested my own wetness with a few fingers. Clueless-Boy seems to have gotten a little braver, judging by the fact that his hands are now out of my sight and likely doing wonderful things to her nipples. I swear I’m staring so hard they -have- to have some idea. I am bent over with one hand resting on the window sill, my forehead pressing against the window, and my other hand is teasing circles around my slick, swollen clit. Oooo, ’bout damn time boy - her shirt is coming off. Bra, quickly discarded. His head dips down to lick? suck? kiss? her nipple. Alas, the couch is being abandoned….where are they going?? Damn. Another window to the left, out of my view. Sonofabitch. Oh wait, their window is open……I shove mine up. I can’t really hear much, unfortunately. I drag a chair to the open window, prop a foot up on the ledge and just imagine them in there. Very soon I hear something….is that?….ohhhh yeah that’s what I’m talkin about. Clueless-Boy has a clue and knows how to use it! I pick up the pace with my fingers, one hand pressing my g-spot the others mashing my clit. I hear them both orgasm, one right after the other, and soon I follow.

What a tasty first night at the window that was. But if I only knew then what was in store for me the next night……

College can be the best place for sexual exploration and in many cases the first time kids really get it on.

My freshman year roommate apparently either felt very comfortable with me or thought I was sleeping. We had our beds bunked to allow more space in the room for our stuff and hanging out (read: cluttered junk and smoking pot) and since I didn’t like light in the morning I had two throw blankets shoved underneath her mattress so that they hung down around my bed creating a cave-like environment. Perhaps being hidden away like this they forgot about me.

It was late when she came in and crawled up top but despite the dark room I wasn’t asleep. I quickly felt the beds shake as a second person climbed up with her. Soon I heard quiet giggling and whispers I couldn’t make out, followed by the unmistakable sounds of kissing. Unsure what to do I just laid there quietly hidden away thinking they would surely stop there. But no. The kissing kept up and despite my annoyance I was somewhat aroused. As soon as I heard the first breathy moan from one of them I knew I was in trouble. My heart was racing and that familiar tingle zipped down from my throat to my cunt and I was pretty wet. I saw the mattress sag down above my head heard the springs groan under the weight of them both and the bed rocked with their movements.

My hand snaked down under my clothes and tentatively dipped into my gushing pussy. Keep in mind I was a late-bloomer and so I had never really masturbated much - hardly at all in fact and rarely to orgasm. Afraid they would hear the sloppy sounds of my fingers I slowly moved my pillow and placed it over my lap. I pulled back my side blanket just a bit to look in our mirror and could see that she was on top and fluidly grinding on his body. The light from the alarm clocks didn’t get me much of a view but I could see her small pale breasts and a hint of her leg; her midnight lover had a palm to one breast and her head was thrown back. I couldn’t tell if she was completely naked or not - she later claimed they never had sex that night but I don’t think I believed her.

The sighs and heavy breathing were getting the better of me and my two fingers were pumping in and out of my cunt so quickly. I heard her high pitched soft moans and saw he had one hand at her mons. She got a little louder, my hand went a little faster, and I think we might have orgasmed together. But it didn’t help; I so desperately craved human contact of my own right then. I smoothed down my clothes and gingerly, quietly, quickly escaped from my bed and the 3 feet to our door. As I opened the door to our hallway, and the harsh light came in, I glanced back and saw my roommate’s surprised flushed face looking apologetic. I quickly let them get back to business.

Now then…a boy. 1.a.m. I tried calling one guy who was a friend I fooled around with but he didn’t answer. To distract myself I went down to the basement rec room to watch TV. RJ, a guy I fooled around with occasionally, was thankfully, miraculously, there watching a movie. His roommate was with him but saw me and left a minute later. RJ and I never had sex and never would; we both had someone back home and the illicit affair had its bounds. We started out on the horrible vinyl dorm couch but quickly moved to the pool table. He was one of the top 5 kissers in my career, still is on that list. We made out for an hour with hands roaming overtop clothes in the most erotic and naughty fashion. It didn’t take much of my hand stroking his cock through his silky basketball shorts for him to cum. I took great pride in that but he seemed a little embarrassed. We parted for the night shortly after; my cunt was still throbbing but I was mostly sated (if this were present day you can bet your ass I would have had a cock, real or silicone, slamming in and out with a vibe on my clit but alas I was young and untrained).

It never happened again - and when I returned to the room the boy was gone.

A young man I used to flirt and banter with here at the office one day finally admitted to me that, sometimes, he’s not checking a text message when he’s at my desk talking to me for 15-20 minutes at a stretch.

He was slyly using his cameraphone to take a picture of a place he didn’t want to stare openly at since we were “just friends” (his idea, not mine). I had always wondered why, on my days when I knew what I was wearing and how it looked from his angle (especially when I would lean forward a slight bit), he seemed oblivious to the cleavage. I had started out thinking “what better way to woo him to the dark side than cleavage?” But I was soon left wondering if perhaps he was gay. Yes, I know, you men are going to tell me that you’ve become stealth-masters at glancing at cleavage and we can’t tell. Yes, we can. I’m sorry to inform you. And since during every conversation, long flirtatious eye contact was always held, I knew where his eyes were looking and where they weren’t.

But he tricked me with the cameraphone.

I was quite aroused when he finally confessed one day in an email. I had worried that the “boob shirt” (you’ve all seen it before, “the picture that launched a thousand sperm”) was a bit TOO much for an office setting. I casually asked him in email one afternoon if he thought my shirt was too revealing for work “or is that something you just don’t notice with me?” There was silence for awhile.

Then I get a text. A pic message, actually, from him. Of a damn fine view of cleavage……wait…that top looks familiar…you guessed it, it was me. Was I offended? Skeeved out? Fuck no, I grinned like the cat who got the canary. I asked him to send me his favorite one that he had taken. I also asked how many he had taken….it was a lot, that’s all he would admit to. Below you’ll find his favorite.

I asked why it was his favorite, but he never answered me.

Over the next few weeks of his assignment, whenever I would be wearing one of my lower-cut tops, I would all but outright tell him to “take a picture, it’ll last longer”…when he got out his phone and said, not-quite-convincingly, “Oh I have a text, I wonder who it’s from” I would pointedly lean forward more, make the girls even more overflowing and obvious and grin up at him. My little not-so-secret voyeur.

Hmm, I need a replacement for Temp Boy……care to seek employment here, anyone? ;)

I’ve been thinking about my kinks recently. I’ve got a lot to share with you, but small doses ;)

I list exhibitionism and voyeurism as my top kink and turn-on, and I list it as one because I think they go hand-in-hand. Most enjoy both equally.

Voyeur side:
Looking at erotic photos, yes, turns me on. Looking at the sort of erotic video that I like, turns me on. But nothing turns me on more than words. Nothing. Period. A well-written story that lets you the reader feel as if you are directly experiencing it, or even better, a fly on the wall. A sexy conversation online with one of my boys, detailing our fantasies, our experiences and better yet “what I’d do to you”.

As I sit here and read Jake’s account of a sexy romp, and then even better spy his delectable six-pack abs, I find myself achingly wet.
Reading Jack’s stories of rough hard fucking over on RoughWords, I am not only wet with a painfully swollen clit but craving that sort of rough hard bottoming-out sex so badly I can taste it.
And, oh yes, especially yes, detailing with K all that we want with each other.
Spying on the various and delicious naked body parts via HNT…but well, that leads me to the exhibitionist side….

Exhibitionist side:
How I love, truly love, a hard cock that I created. I can be going along minding my own business, not even horny, and when one of my boys tells me they just read my latest entry and are foaming at the mouth, I am joining right in with them in their puddle of lust.

The back and forth discussions on IM and email are equal V/E, I think. I am showing off for the other person, really.

Posting for you all to read…I find myself aching for release after every entry.

Showing off my photos and the ego feeding I get, god I love knowing that I made him(any him, really, or her for that matter) hard with my words, with my photo. A’s reaction to a few pics I sent him the other night still makes me dripping wet just from rereading it….

A: got em
A: oh my god
A: I think I may cum without even touching myself
Me: :)
A: looking at you spread your ass
Me: yeah….thought you might like that
A: such a tight and inviting asshole
A: I’m losing consciousness
Me: i hoped you’re this crazed with lust when you’re with me
Me: cause your reaction is driving me nuts
A: I am laying on my stomach
A: and I can feel my dick throbbing just like it does before I cum

It is like a drug. I am addicted to this. I feed off of this. It is, quite frankly, turning me into something of a slut.
K read my blog for the first time yesterday. He is not alone in his reaction, but I like his the best. I love knowing that the poor boy is sitting there at work, a beautiful hard-on with precum dripping down his leg, because of me.

K: like i said…
K: your blog makes my cock hard.
Me: :)
K: i’m positively throbbing.
Me: what did you like most on my blog?
K: don’t make me choose
Me: please :)
K: i’d rather just enjoy the blissful feeling in my boxers ;)
Me: lol
K: i just like your openness
K: your raw sexuality
K: the sensuality of your writing
Me: I’m sure I’ll get many blog post ideas from you ;)

I think I may combust….
oh god yes.
right there…
Please excuse me while I sneak in a quickie with my finger

“C” wanted some erotic photos taken, something just for fun and to share with a select few, certainly nothing warranting a professional.

I consider myself to be pretty decent with the camera, and while I had never done anything of the sort (my closest was a wedding once), I offered to help her.

I have a digital camera, very important for these sorts of photos, after all. One nice side function to digital cameras is the ability to shoot video. But we’ll get to that.

We didn’t bother with anything resembling a professional setup other than my set of lights that I use to photograph my jewelry…we did this because I figured that the flash would distract her if we got her to a point where she was no longer posing. I had hoped it would get to that point. We started her off with whatever posing she felt comfortable doing, in some skimpy but understatedly sexy clothing. Various states of undress ensued. She was getting more into it, more comfortable. The audience with whom she would share these photos got progressively smaller, the more she exposed.

Finally, the clothes were gone. I wish I could have been more involved, a “fluffer” so to speak, helping her keep her nipples hard and her pussy wet, but I didn’t want to push. I was happy enough to be where I was. Slowly it moved from her posing and showing off to her simply pleasuring herself while I continued to snap away. These photos proved to be some of her best. She started this shift with light strokes here and there, nothing really aimed at an end result of climax….yet. I moved closer, sitting in a chair almost at her feet, she was laying on her back, fingers working. Since I am equally attracted to women as I am men, let me assure you that it was very difficult to remain an inactive viewer.

When her touch grew more focused, her breathing labored and the scent of arousal filled the room, I wordlessly switched the camera into video mode and began to record her trip to climax. I captured fluid movement, her fingers trailing between each breast, pinching each nipple. Her other hand alternating between pumping in and out, to rubbing her clit. Her eyes closed, she had forgotton I was there. The labored breathing turned to moans. Her hips thrust forward to meet her hand. A pink flush moved up her chest. Quickly she grew silent and held her breath, stilled her movement while her fingers rubbed her clit furiously to bring her over the edge. Her moans and cries of release suddenly echoed in the room. As she opened her eyes and came down from the climax I shut off video mode.

She was a little embarrased at first until I assured her that it was the hottest thing I had seen and I didn’t mind at all. I suggested that as soon as she recovered a bit that she bring out her toys…after all, don’t we all love seeing a vibrator/dildo buried in a pussy? Almost as good as the real thing. The photo session continued for another orgasm before we called it quits.

I quickly left with a plausible excuse. The moment I was alone in my car my hand dove inside my jeans, testing the wetness (I would have been shocked if she hadn’t known how wet I was), touching my throbbing clit to ease a little of the pain. I drove away, headed for home where I immediately stripped naked and indulged myself.

Let me say that, without a DOUBT, I want to do this again. For a woman, a man, a couple. Pure porn or erotic art, I don’t care. I suppose it would be hotter for me if I could participate a little, but it’s not a requirement.