Message-ID: <18185eli$>
X-Archived-At: <URL:>
From: (SueNewHamp)
Subject: Sue's 15th: Catty Corner 1/2 (mf, voy, exhib)
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <>
X-Story-Submission: <>
X-Original-Message-ID: <>

NOTE: This story is, of course, for adults only --  so don't read it if you
don't think you can be mature about it. Reading and writing these stories
should be acts of fantasy, and I hope that you can keep your notions of real
and fantasy life separate in your mind. I know I can. If you would like to let
me know what you think, or if you have a follow-up fantasy (which is something
that I REALLY like), you can reach me at ... but I can't
promise to return your emails... I do have some other things to do in my real

CATTY CORNER, part 1 of 2
   BY Sue

I decided to splurge when I made the reservation for the hotel. After all, this
was an important business conference for me, and I was going to be in the city
for only a couple of nights. My plane flights were going to be a grueling five
hours, with two change of planes. So I knew I’d be tired, and the idea of
suffering with a cheap motel room was not appealing. I called one of those
luxury downtown hotels. It was one of the new ones, built in a triangle around
a huge central atrium..., glass elevators, balcony hall-ways draped in lush
greenery around the atrium. And I asked for a luxury suite with a king-size bed
and a separate living room. I wanted to take care of myself for a change.
Hopefully, the conference would lead to some profitable business connections
that would make the expense of this hotel seem insignificant.

I had wanted to check into my room as soon as I arrived in the city, but of
course the flights were late, and the traffic into the city made me so late
that I had to go right to the banquet that opened the conference. What I really
wanted was a shower, and an hour to relax and compose myself. But I put on my
best “face,” and freshened up in the restaurant’s bathroom. 

The dinner and innumerable speeches dragged on and on ‘til late at night. But
the other people assigned to my table turned out to be interested in the
services that my company could offer. By the time that the dessert plates were
being picked off of the tables by the bus-boys, I had informally finalized
several lucrative deals, and my table mates invited me out for drinks at the
restaurant’s bar. I was by this time totally exhausted by my the long day
(including three time zone changes) but I felt that it was important to be
gracious in accepting their offer to continue talking. The fact that they were
all men, and that I was probably the most attractive woman in the crowd, was
not lost on me, but I determined to keep things on a business level. The
conversation over drinks was loaded with their mischievous double-entendres,
which I let go unchallenged.

Finally, we made arrangements to reconvene our discussions at the next night’s
dinner, and we all traded business cards. When the party broke up, I caught a
cab back to the hotel. I couldn’t believe it when I looked at my watch and saw
that it was almost two in the morning. I was actually just getting a second
wind, as if my deep feeling of tiredness was overcome with the triumph of
making the deals with my dinner partners. I had to admit to myself that there
was kind of an erotic charge to the way that I was feeling. Kind of keyed up,
and also kind of out of control from my exhaustion. Not much I was going to be
able to do about it except masturbate in my room, but that can be great, so I
started to think about that as I finally reached the hotel and went through my
belated check-in. I was so late that there was not even a bell-hop on duty, so
the man at the front desk told me how to get to my room on my own. I pulled my
suitcase into the elevator, and as it took me to the top floor, I could see the
entire interior of the atrium, with row after row of rooms wrapped around the
balconies. There were 20 stories to this place. Each of the rooms had a large
window that face into the atrium, and most of them were dark. A few had the
lights on, but were shielded by curtains. My sexually oriented thoughts led me
to wonder what was going on in each of those rooms. Momentary images of all
sorts of couplings flashed through my mind’s eye. Walking along the long
balcony to my room, I passed by dozens of rooms, and I found myself glancing at
the windows. Several had lights on, but the curtains assured the privacy of the

But one room had the curtains partly open, and as I passed, I snuck a look.
Inside was a scene that froze me in my tracks. The room was lit by only the
flickering bluish illumination from the TV set. On the screen was a soft-core
porno movie, the kind that hotels make available for an extra charge. There
were the two occupants of the room. The woman was naked, and she was leaning
over the back of a big overstuffed armchair, facing toward the TV, with her
large breasts draped over the back cushion. The man was standing behind her,
fucking his cock deep into her cunt. His hands were squeezing and massaging her
ass cheeks so hard that I could see the white streaks on her red and sweaty
skin, where his fingers had pushed the blood from her flesh. They were situated
so that they were sideways to me, and as he slowly pumped his cock in and out
of her, I could see the incredible length become exposed and then disappear
again. He was so long and hard and wet, and on the back stroke, her cunt lips
clung to his cock, as if they were trying to pull him back into her clutching
vagina. His balls swung forwards and back, coming into view briefly with each
thrust. She pulled her hands up to start pinching both her nipples into long
hard gumdrops. 

The two of them were transfixed on the images dispalyed on the TV, mesmerized
by the athletic threesome that are frolicking on the screen. Then he looked
down at her ass and purposely drooled a long string of spit into the crease
between her ass cheeks. The thumb of one hand chased after the moisture. I
couldn’t really see what he was doing, but it was easy to guess that his
fattest finger was rubbing around her asshole, and when I saw his hand twist
around, I knew that he had slipped his thumb into her. When he did that, her
back stiffened and her body kind of jerked a bit, as if she were objecting. For
myself, I know that I would be more than objecting. I like a little teasing
around my asshole, but penetrating it is just not my thing. For this woman that
I was spying on, anal penetration was apparently OK, because after a few
seconds, she seemed to relax, and she went back to watching the movie and
pulling on her nipples. Her chest was heaving and her rising excitement was
increasingly evident. As was the man’s -- he had been very controlled in pacing
his deep fucking motions, but now the thrusts were getting deeper than ever,
and faster and faster. With the hand that was not involved with penetrating her
ass, he started to slap playfully at the skin of her ass and back. Not the kind
of slap that would be painful. These were light slaps, designed to heighten her
skin’s aliveness and sensitivity, like a splash of cold water. She didn’t seem
to mind at all, and in fact her head started to pivot around, flailing her
short black hair around her ears, eyes wild with feverish lust. 

That’s how she saw me. Her head stopped suddenly and her eyes locked on the
window were I was standing, brazenly watching their supposedly private act. At
first she looked shocked and worried, but that passed in an instant. her eyes
widened and she licked her tongue around her lips in a broad circle, wickedly
smirking at me. Her stare made me aware of my own appearance, and I realized
that my hand was pressed into the material of my dress, insinuating itself into
the folds of my cunt. I was pressing hard into my vulva, cushioned my the thick
skirt and panties that separated my fingers from my cunt, from the silky
moisture that had wet my panties. Her smirk was to let me know that she was the
one getting the true satisfaction from the shaft of wet flesh that was filling
her. I was the one that had to be content with observing her complete pleasure.
Her lips opened again, and I could see (but not hear) that she was saying
something to her partner. He swung his head toward me and leered at me,
laughing at my appearance through the window.

This was finally too much for me. My embarrassment at being caught overwhelmed
my hypnotic interest in their animalistic fucking, and I pulled my eyes away
from theirs, and pulled my hand away from my cunt. I grabbed my suitcase and
finally continued down the balcony toward my room, which was only two doors
further, being the last room on this wall. And my embarrassment at being caught
by the couple was then made much worse, because there was someone else looking
at me! He was in the room directly ahead of me at the end of the balcony. His
room was catty corner to the one that I was soon to claim. Only his head was
visible through the small gap in his curtains, but it was clear that his
attention was focused on me, and I had no doubt that he had been watching me,
as I in turn watched the other couple. As I reached into my purse to get my
key, I averted my eyes from his, and struggled to open the lock and attain the
sanctuary of my own room. I was so flustered that it took a while to get the
key in correctly. Finally the door opened for me and as I turned back toward
the hall for my suitcase, I again locked eyes with his. Something about him was
reassuring, but being caught twice within one minute was kind of humiliating.
In fact, I knew that I wouldn’t feel safe until I was locked in my room.

When I closed the door behind me and flipped on the light, I just stood frozen
for a timeless moment. My heartbeat gradually slowed from a hummingbird’s pace
to something more human. I realized that I had been holding my breath, and I
forced myself to take deep long inhalations. Eventually, I got myself back to
some semblance of self control, and I took stock of what had happened, of what
I was feeling, and of the fact that I was now safely ensconced in my luxury

Something about this feeling of fear reminded me of another situation -- the
time that I had snuck into a health club with a friend, so that we could use
the jacuzzi late at night. Our privacy that night had been interrupted by three
college boys that had also snuck into the club. Hearing them in the hallway
that night had petrified me with fear, but I remembered clearly that it had
also been an incredibly erotic turn-on. That night was the subject of one of my
stories (“Slippery When Wet”). It made me realize that sometimes fear and sex
can be connected at some level. And that is what was happening for me right
now. I was scared of the consequences of being caught being a naughty voyeur,
but I was also turned-on. Not only by what I had seen through the window as the
man and woman were fucking doggy-style. Also by the fact that I had been seen
with my hand between my thighs by a complete stranger, late at night on the
balcony of the 20th floor of a glamorous hotel across the country from my home.

This train of thought reminded me of what it was that I had been caught doing.
I had sort of been masturbating, and my panties were still sticky-wet with my
juices. Now that I was safe in my own room, I could complete what I had
started. I wondered if I should go on through the suite to the bedroom, and
when I looked around to see how the rooms were laid out, I immediately noticed
that the curtains to the atrium-side windows were open. My first thought was
that I should, of course, close them. When I went over to do that, I looked out
to the balcony, and immediately I saw the man again, in the room catty corner
to mine. Because the hotel was built in a triangular shape, the rooms to each
side of the inner corners actually faced inwards toward each other. Through my
window, I was looking almost directly into his window, his room, and his face
-- it couldn’t be more than six feet separating us. This stopped me cold.

His hands held the curtains to either side of him, so that they were pulled
wider than before. Now I could see his entire body, from his knees up. He was
wearing a navy blue terry cloth robe, and I could discern right away that he
was much older than me, maybe 60 years old or more. Gray hair, some facial
wrinkles, and a wise and gentle countenance. His smile was sincere and amiable.
Glancing downward, I could see the hint of a bulge beneath his robe, evidence
that his cock was partially erect and tenting the fabric away from his thighs.
Looking back up to his face, I knew that he had followed my wandering peek at
his crotch, and he took his hand from the edge of the curtain and let it slowly
move to the knot at the belt of his robe. When he pulled at the knot of the
belt, the thick terry cloth parted as he held it to the sides with his hands on
his hips, revealing the front of his torso. The pink skin of his chest was
tufted with gray hair. For his age, I could see that he kept himself in pretty
good shape, for his stomach was firm, and only a few wrinkles creased his skin.

And then there was his cock. It was only partly hard, hanging downwards and
slightly off to the side, but erect enough to have pulled away from his thighs.
It sort of bobbed in the air, pulsing and twitching. I didn’t know whether he
was controlling this movement, or if it was involuntary, but I found myself
staring at the dancing cock for many long seconds. When I pulled my eyes away
to see his face, he raised his eyebrows, tilted his head to the side. It was a
questioning look, asking me to think about what I wanted to do. He gave me some
hand signals that indicated that we could get together.

What did I want? I was so sexually keyed up, but getting together with this
stranger seemed too complex for whatever time it was. And anyway, the theme for
this evening seemed to be voyeurism, so that should be the way that it reached
its conclusion. I decided that we could give each other a show. I put up my
hand to let him know that he should stay put in his room. He looked
disappointed for a moment, until he saw my hands go to the front of my green
satin blouse. As I unbuttoned it and let it fall to the floor behind me, his
facial expression turned from apprehension to curiosity, and finally to
admiration, as my breasts came into view, wrapped by a sheer lace brassiere. I
hardly ever wear one, but for this evening of business, I thought it would be
better to avoid distracting the men with the sight of my nipples poking at the
front of my blouse. 

+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <> | <> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |