badinfluencegirl

she didn’t know he could see her.

he was sure of this because she was so comfortable in her skin and because she wasn’t watching her moves. she wasn’t moving with that conscious awareness that women adopt when they’re being watched or when they’re out hunting.

she was easy and sensual.

she didn’t mind being watched either.

he was sure of this because she didn’t keep her curtains closed. and because sometimes it seemed almost like she was playing to an unseen audience. he particularly liked the way she glanced at the window as if to ask her audience what their next request was.

he was, however; amused to death by her clear assumption that no one could see her.

he had moved in to this condominium a few months ago and had wondered during inspection why such a wonderful window had full blinds on it. he had wondered further why there were so few lights in the room and why there was no furniture near the window.

then he had noticed the missing slats a few inches below his own eye level and had looked through.

at first all he could see was the building on the other side of the alley and it’s blank windows looking back on him. this was passing strange, why would anyone want to stare at a blank wall?

strange enough that after he moved in he decided to pass the window whenever he thought of it until he felt that he had seen all there was to see across the way. strange enough that he didn’t immediately change the setup of the room.

strange enough that he felt almost pulled to the window.

days passed like this, passed with him watching. he got to know most of his neighbours too, well enough that he wanted to greet them in the street but wasn’t sure how. eventually he grew to enjoy peeking out to see what the neighbourhood was doing without seeing him.

somehow, and later he wondered at this, he didn’t see the small window on the lowest level. it didn’t fit the building and somehow he didn’t really see it. perhaps because it was usually so dim.

tonight the lights were blazing and there was a woman doing.. what was she doing? he peered closer because he could see that she was tall and fit and built like an amazon.

she was… cleaning? but he had never seen cleaning like this. he’d HEARD about it in those letters that people apparently wrote to those magazines but he’d always thought it was some adolescent male fantasy.

she was cleaning all right, cleaning in hot pink underwear and a shirt so tiny that he was pretty sure if he watched long enough he’d see her nipples. the kind of shirt that rode up and exposed the rarely seen bottoms of her breasts.

the kind of shirt that men ached to remove with their teeth.

the kind of shirt that women hated because it wasn’t ‘flattering’ … the kind they cleaned in.

he lost track of how long he stood there watching her work. bending and straightening and occasionally stopping to shimmy to the music, unfettered breasts bouncing beneath her shirt, his cock slowly working it’s way toward his belly button.

his left hand, of it’s own volition, worked it’s way down to gently rub the front of his pants, his member responding with alacrity. it liked her it did.

she worked that way for some time, and finally he watched her sweep up and then cross the room with a towel.

was she going to shower?? oh lord please please please!

he waited there, breath caught in his throat and wondered at himself. fully grown man with a life and a job and a wonderful woman and here he was acting like a boy in the locker room.

but oh that body, and the way she moved!

he stared into her apartment and wondered at himself, he’d always thought such behavior the height of declasse and yet he wasn’t moving away. he had just about convinced himself that he would rearrange the room and change the offending blind when she returned across the room.

he groaned and released himself in one swift tear of buttons. button flys were a gift from the universe! he sprang free, already fully erect and glistening with precum as he watched her and began touching himself.

she must know she had an audience! i mean standing there, towel on her head, with her fingers at her lips looking pensive while water glistened on her bare and steamy skin and her nipples swayed gently with each breath? was that even fair?

absently she reached town and started playing idly with one of her glistening pink nipples.

his gaze burned her and he couldn’t believe she didn’t know he was there. she must. groaning he licked his own hand and began to stroke himself in earnest now.

faster and faster he pumped as she began to move around her home again… clearly noticing things she had missed and giving her place a good finishing touch.

seeing her muscles play and her body move languidly as her breasts bounced and she alternately revealed and hid her well trimmed bush was killing him.

he began to pant and groan slightly as he felt his balls tightening and his anus squeezing. he licked his other hand and began working himself hard now, hand pistoning up and down on his gleaming shaft as he soaked his free hand and then switched, wetter and wetter… faster and faster he pumped as she worked.

finally, with her back to him she began to rearrange the couch cover and cushions. he couldn’t bear it, her pussy peeking from the top of her thighs whenever she bent over far enough and her spectacular ass working the rest of the time.

he felt his body tighten and gather as a wave of release approached his desperately throbbing cock. the cock that only wanted to be inside that pussy that was so close and so unattainable. his hips thrust as he imagined slamming himself into her again and again while she braced her hands on the back of the couch.

he would reach around of course and tease her clit mercilessly as he slammed his shaft into her up to it’s limit. he would wrap one arm across her hips and hold her there while he fucked her and fucked her and fucked her until they both screamed and then as she came at the top of her lungs he would pull out and in one long spurt he would spray her beautiful ass and back with his come.

his hips jerked and twitched and his balls got tighter and tighter until with a long cry he shot and shot all over his hand and his own chest.

he had installed a small video camera with a telephoto lens and a very large harddrive the next day.

…

[i'm not a boy, feel free to tell me what coming feels like from the inside or if anything he does is totally not boylike okay boys?]