VOYEUR PART 2 – AN EROTIC STORY BY M.

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A week after my experience on the roof terrace, I receive another mail from my attractive voyeur. He misses his view. With a sad smiley. Surprised and amused, I look at my screen. I email back that it will probably be okay with its view when the spring sun returns. I eagerly await his answer, but there’s no response. Secretly, I am a bit disappointed. Quite a bit later in the afternoon I finally do receive a reaction: he invites me for an espresso at his house. His address underneath the mail; it’s only just around the corner. He’s quite a cheeky one, this voyeur. But I like that.

Fifteen minutes later I am in a large rectangular space. Bare concrete resonating under my high heels. Amazed, I look around. A spacious loft, minimally but tastefully decorated. A modern sofa, a leather designer armchair. Above it is a large abstract painting. There are meters of books along one of the walls. The wall opposite is glass, from floor to the ceiling. A glass door gives access to a spacious balcony. It looks like a man with excellent taste. A handsome man at that. Energetic, self-assured. Faded jeans, light blue shirt. Casually rolled up sleeves. We’ve already spoken to each other very briefly, I remember that now, it was at one of our neighbors. When he gives me a fragrant espresso, I compliment him on the tasteful apartment. I slowly walk up to the glass wall. Loudly clacking my stiletto heels on the hard concrete floor. The view of the city is spectacular. I can just make out my own roof terrace a little lower. “What a great view”, I say with a smile. He looks at me and brashly replies: “Absolutely.” I feel a rush of titillation pull through my stomach.

I shouldn’t really do this. It’snot that appropriate. But that only makes it even more exciting, more arousing. As I look outside, I begin to open the buttons of my silk blouse. Slowly, first one, then another. My cleavage becoming deeper and deeper, revealing my almost naked breasts. My blouse slides off my shoulders. The Aglaea bra by Coco de Mer that I am wearing has bold quartercups, a lace frame, presenting my soft, natural breasts. He can only see my back, and at most catch a slight reflection of my breasts in the window. I unzip my tight Murmur Snap skirt; it slides down my legs, down to the bare concrete.

He admires my legs, embellished with a thin pair of black stay-ups and shiny lacquer Louboutins. I am sure he’s staring at my bum, totally spellbound. At the beautiful Aglaea open briefs I am wearing. A wonderfully cheeky, enticing, lace masterpiece. I can tell that he’s standing right behind me. I can smell his after shave. I am sensing his warmth. His hands glide over my hips, then go up, exploring the curves and weight of my breasts. His fingers find my hard nipples. I feel his roused manhood against my buttocks. I close my eyes when he starts kissing my neck. I can hear that he’s hastily undressing and I turn around. He has a slender, muscular body, strong shoulders. He peels off his tight boxers with ease.
He is handsome, big, powerful.

I sink to my knees, feeling his nice hard penis in my hands, its warmth between my full breasts. I tease him with the tip of my tongue. My glossy red lips sliding down his delectable shaft. His hands grab my hair. He can hardly contain himself. I push him back and turn around again, leaning against the glass with both my hands, showing my tush. I spread my long legs, showing him everything, elegantly fringed by almost nothing.

Firmly, his hands grab my hips and without hesitation he enters me. His powerful loins immediately find a compelling and wonderfully intoxicating rhythm. Wildly we indulge in our bottled-up lust, until I feel that he suddenly cramps up, tensing all his muscles, and his breathing halts. His shocks and jolts are closely followed by him ejaculating; almost at the same time I feel a sensation of pure and utter pleasure welling up from my lower abdomen and engulfing me in waves.

I am standing there with my whole body pressed against the glass, my breasts squashed by his weight against my back. Our rapid breathing has steamed up the window to nearly opaque. He’s still panting, his mouth still in my neck.

“Such a spectacular view”, he breathes with admiration in my ear.

~*~

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