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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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Catty Corner
by SueNH (suenewhamp@aol.com)
***
Two strangers show off to each other on the spur of the
moment. (MF, voy, exh, mast)
***
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 inhabitants.
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 displayed
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 suite.
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.
What did I want? I was so sexually keyed up, but getting
together with this stranger seemed too complex for so
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.
I flipped off my shoes, and then I unzipped the side of
my skirt and let it fall to my ankles, where I kicked it
aside. I undid my braid, letting my long blond hair come
free and loose and kinky -- just the way that I felt at
the moment! My body took up a swaying, sensuous dance as
I ran my hands up my thighs, over my tummy, and onto my
swelling breasts.
I unsnapped the catch in the center and let the filmy
cups hang limply draped over my breasts, with the
material catching on the dark jutting nipples. With a
shimmy of my shoulders, my breasts came free completely,
jiggling like bowls of jello. The bra slid off of my
shoulders and onto the floor, adding to the jumbled pile
of clothes. Only my panties were left, and before I
stripped them off, I looked up to see how my observer
was doing.
He had shed his robe, and was now standing completely
naked except for a thin gold chain and medal; probably a
Saint Christopher, perfect for a traveler, but not so
good for a practicing Catholic staring out his hotel
window at a voluptuous naked woman dancing for his
attention only a very few feet from his similarly naked
body. Right now, his fervor was not religious. It was
passionate, as was clear from the attitude and altitude
of his cock, which was now pointing well above the
horizontal. It had a curved shape that made the head of
his cock point straight upwards, almost touching his
belly button. Such a deliciously young cock on his
mature body. And it was still weaving and dancing like
an eel out of water. As I observed its meandering dance,
he reached down and grabbed it, starting an extremely
slow stoking. I was so close to him that I could see a
couple of drops of clear pre-cum squeeze out of the tip
from just the first pump. The viscous liquid smeared
over the broad, purple glans, reflecting all the atrium
lights like silver glitter.
As he continued his slow fondling of his 8 inch cock, I
hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my flowery satin
panties and pulled them down to my knees. Naturally, the
crotch was sort of stuck into the set crease of my cunt,
and I had to pull it out before I could pull my feet up
and out of the underwear. Now I was completely exposed
to this strangers view, and I wasted no time before
dipping one hand down to my crotch, diving a finger into
the puffy wet folds of my cunt.
That first touch on my clitoris was almost an electric
shock, making my entire body shudder. My eyes were now
glued to the sight of his cock being pumped with a
gradually accelerating pace, and I took the fingers of
my other hand to pull apart my outer labia and matted
cunt hair, so that he could see the glossy pink flesh of
my inner cunt. I lifted one foot up onto the sill of the
window, which was almost two feet off the floor. Bending
my knee away from him spread my cunt area even more, so
that I was totally open and revealed.
I used only one finger to play with my clitoris, curling
the other up into my palm they didn’t interfere with his
view. I swiped back and forth over my hard clit,
occasionally dipping down into my vagina. Doing that
made my inner lips spread more so that he could see the
jagged opening more easily. I wanted to ensure that his
view of my wanton masturbation was as unhampered as I
could make it. Judging be the mesmerized look on his
face, and the red flush to his skin, I obviously was
having the desired effect on him.
...And myself too, for I was rapidly approaching my
orgasm. Part of me wanted to let my legs buckle so that
I could lay back on the plush carpeting. And I wanted to
clench my eyes shut as the orgasm wracked over me. But
overcoming those desires was the devilish to watch the
stranger have his orgasm before I had mine. I slowed my
finger as it flipped over my protruding clitoris, and
staring shamelessly at his cock and hand, I took note of
his technique.
He was stoking up and down the shaft, squeezing hard on
the down stroke and releasing much of the pressure when
his hand slid back toward the plum-colored glans. The
rim around the head was flared out away from the shaft,
and his fingers bumped against this pliant barrier,
pressing the lip up towards his pisshole without letting
his index finger or thumb ever ride over the rim onto
the come-streaked glans.
He seemed to take great pleasure from rubbing that
distended rim, and when I looked closer, I could see
that it was covered with many dozens of teeny little
white nubs. I’d seen these on other men, but never as
many, never so pronounced. Maybe there are special nerve
endings in these bumps, for he was concentrating his
efforts on swiping across this area more and more,
applying a sort of twist with his wrist at the peak of
each stoke. And he took his other hand and used it to
start juggling his balls, which were hanging
pendulously, surrounded by lots of wrinkled flesh and
gray hair. He was careful to massage his balls from
behind, so as not to hide them from my view. What a
gentleman!
His fingers prodded into the scrotal sac from behind,
pushing the veiled globes forwards and upwards, toward
me. I licked my lips lewdly as I watched, his cock was
harder and longer than ever, and the head was even
fatter and darker. Pre-cum was glistening and he stopped
milking at the shaft and took the slimy head into his
palm and started to knead and twist it.
He knew exactly what to do to bring his excitement to
the most hedonistic and ecstatic finish, and he was
finally ready to explode. He again slid his hand down
onto the shaft of his cock, and he moved it up and down
in tiny increments, so fast that it was more like he was
vibrating it that stroking it. In fact his whole body
started to quiver, eventually punctuating with an
explosion of semen that blasted out from the tip and
flew across the narrow space, smashing against the glass
window pane. It hit the surface so hard that it
splattered in all directions, soon to be joined by
another glob of gooey come, and another. Both his hands
were pumping the liquid from deep in his balls, up
though the long stiff rod, and arcing through the air.
It was an enchanting sight to see the rivulets of semen
dribbling down the glass, and pooling on the metal sill.
The grayish-white color matched his hair head and body
hair exactly.
As the final act of his performance proceeded, I
reinvigorated my own manipulations of my clitoris,
occasionally harvesting some lubrication that seeped
from my cunt. The aroma of the evaporating juices filled
my nostrils with the zesty fragrance. As his spurting
orgasm finally subsided, mine kicked into high gear, and
I let my spine arch backwards, splaying my crotch wider,
thrusting it forwards. This pushed the back of my hand
against the glass, propelling my finger even harder
against my clitoris than I could with just the tired
muscles of my hand. My other hand let go from spreading
my outer lips, and I seized one of my heaving breast in
that hand, palpating the hot swollen flesh in my palm,
tweaking my nipple with my fingertips.
Of course, all of this was just what the doctor ordered,
for it only took a few seconds before my own climax
began to wash over me. I had been close for so very
long, and I had teased it out while I watched the
stranger finish off his orgasm. But now it was
definitely my turn to complete my celebration. My finger
strummed hard over my clitoris, so fast that it must
have been perceived as a hummingbird-wing blur to the
man. I grunted and groaned as the first waves of ecstasy
pulsed through me like electric shocks, and then wave
after wave followed. My head was tipped back so that I
could see only the ceiling, but I’m sure that the show I
was putting on for the old man was spectacular, I could
feel my juices spreading onto the back of my hand,
smearing on the glass just as he had smeared his thick
come onto his window.
Eventually, the energetic stimulation of my finger was
too much and when I pulled my finger away and up to my
other breast, I found that I could just barely push my
cunt forwards enough so that it made direct contact with
the glass, I wobbled my hips around so that I was
squashing my cunt lips against the cold sheet of glass,
splaying the pulpy flesh and spreading the clear
secretions.
Finally, my legs and libido gave out. Looking behind me,
I saw an armchair close by, so I let my knees buckle and
collapsed into the comfortable embrace of the cushy
upholstery. As I did so, I hadn’t a moment to relax
before I heard the phone ringing. What the Hell, I
thought, and I looked over at the clock on the side
table. It was after 4:00 in the morning! Who could be
calling me now, of all times. But I reached over and
picked it up.
“My name is Charlie, and I wanted you to know that you
were absolutely spectacular. I shall relish the memory
of our mutual masturbation forever. Thank you so much. I
don’ want to bother you in any way at all, but if you
want to talk -- or whatever -- call me back. I’m sure
you know my room number, Bye.” And with that he was off
the phone. I hadn’t had a chance to speak at all. I
looked through my window towards his room, but the
curtain was now closed. The room number was right there
in large gold numbers on the face of his door.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 70