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I Want You To Watch
The Watcher
By: Georgepat Copyright: 2005 by Georgepat While visiting a friend in the hospital today, I developed a real need for a cigarette and asked at the information desk if there was somewhere I could grab a much needed smoke. After much rolling of her eyes and shaking of her head, she directed me to a small gazebo set well away from anything and everything that could possibly cause an existing patient to snort even the smallest molecule of cancer causing second hand smoke. The gazebo was small, about eight feet in diameter, with four small wooden benches crowded around the entrance. There were already three other hard core smokers in it when I arrived; two of whom seemed to have the habit, but had no smokes. I’m a very generous guy under most circumstances and this being no different, gave each of them two cigarettes apiece before I had finished the one that I lit. “Do you have an extra one?” This from a young guy with a shaved head and tribal tattoos around his neck, wearing a full sweat suit plus a sweat jacket in 88 degree temperatures and with the fingers on his right hand stained a deep shade of nicotine orange. “Yeah, I need one too, if you can spare it.” The woman that asked this almost defies explanation. Her hair looked as though it had been cut by a very drunk barber wielding a pair of badly dulled hedge trimmers. Her clothes, while clean, looked as though they were designed for a woman three sizes smaller than she. The third smoker…ah,…what a piece of work she was! She was an older woman, probably in her young sixties, with natural looking light blond hair done in a very attractive French braid. She was short, maybe five six or so, dressed in tight jeans and a yellow blouse that had a small, narrow zipper in the front instead of buttons. She wore a pair of open toed sling back sandals that showed off her obviously recent pedicure. She also wore a pair of glasses with the lenses colored a dark smoky hue that left me wondering exactly what color her eyes actually were. She was reading a book, a mystery I think it was, and had a Bic lighter sitting on top of an empty pack of cigarettes. “Would you care for a smoke?” I asked, as I arched my eyebrows and inclined my head towards the other two, implying that I had already taken care of them and that now, it was her turn. “Yes, please,” she said and took the offered cigarette. “I’m sort of stuck here for the moment. You see, my niece accidentally took my car keys when she left here a while ago. I tried to call her on my cell but the damn thing got ornery and died.” I took the cell phone off my belt, offering it to her and asked if she wanted to use it to call anyone. “No, I’m fine here. They know where I am, and as soon as they get the message I managed to get through before the damn thing died, they’ll be back to return my keys so that I can go on home.” We started to talk of books and our favorite authors, of what we had read and what we wanted to read in the future. Time passed quickly and our other two smokers left the gazebo, scratching their heads and thinking that for all this time, they thought books were to level uneven table legs or perhaps to support an aquarium that wasn’t quite sitting right. I mentioned that I had a couple of books that a friend had given me that I had already read. They were by James Clavell and worthy of a read if she wanted them. I told her that they were in my truck parked just a few spaces away from were we were and that she could have them if she wanted them. I couldn’t see her eyes but her facial expression spoke volumes as I walked to my truck and returned shortly with both large books in my hands. She gave me her thanks and said how nice it was to meet someone with similar interests in reading. I agreed whole-heartily and bent over to pull my pants cuff over my boot. I sat back up and offered her another cigarette from my quickly dwindling pack. As she leaned over to take it from my hand, I noticed that the zipper on her blouse had been pulled down about three inches and I could see well below the top of her bra. She uncrossed her legs and spread them slightly; her tight jeans showcasing her crotch, the seam tightly pressed against her pussy, and then leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “I actually live very close to here,” she told me, “we could walk from here and be there in fifteen minutes. That is, if you wanted too.” “I’d like that very much and the walk would do me good. I could use the exercise.” “I don’t think you have to worry about the exercise part,” she said, as she stood and smoothed her tight jeans down her legs, “at all.” We walked away from the little gazebo and headed towards her house. She took my hand in hers and squeezed lightly. “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea about me, she said, “it’s been ages since I’ve asked a man over to my house, and never, one that I just met.” “No husband or boyfriend in your life?” I asked. “My husband died suddenly three years ago and to tell you the truth, I’ve been afraid to let anyone else get close to me.” “Afraid?” “Well, let’s just say that I have…certain needs, and finding someone that understands these needs has, up until now, been difficult. My family and close friends think I’m always very prim and proper and I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.” “Needs?” I asked, stopping briefly to look at her. “You’ve certainly grabbed my attention with that remark. What makes you think that I’ll understand?” “That’s just it. I don’t know if you will or not, but I picked up on several things you said as we were talking earlier. I had a hunch that you might be able to help me out and that’s why I took a chance.” “Well, what are your needs?” I asked, smiling at her, “are you going to tell me or is this something I have to guess?” “You’ll find out soon enough,” she said, as we turned to walk up the sidewalk to her house, “because we’re here.” She opened the door and I followed her inside. Her living room was well appointed with leather couch and chairs. There were family photographs adorning one wall and a well stocked bookcase that went from the floor to the ceiling, on the other. She asked if I wanted something to drink and I told her yes. “Have a seat on the couch,” she said, “I’ll be right back.” I watched her as she walked away from me, her ass swinging from side to side, slowly and seductively; she knew exactly where I was looking. Then, to reinforce what I had just thought, she glanced back over her shoulder and winked. I heard her in her kitchen humming a long forgotten song, and then the tinkling of ice as it cascaded down the side of a glass and of liquid being poured. A spoon, swirling the iced beverage, and then, quiet. I waited patiently on the couch, my mind conjuring scenarios as to what she might have in mind and what might actually play out. After an absence of ten minutes, she breezed back into the room, iced beverages in hand, her jeans and shirt exchanged for a long, blue satin robe. She walked in front of me and sat my drink on the coffee table; her perfume enveloped my senses and it was intoxicating. She took a seat beside me and tucked one of her legs under her ass in the way that only a woman can manage, and then turned towards me and placed her arm across the back of the couch, “Comfortable?” she asked. “Yes, very,” I replied, leaning back into the plush leather couch. “Now, about those needs of yours.” She took a cigarette out of a silver box on the coffee table, tapped the filtered end several times and lit it. She inhaled deeply and then slowly let the smoke drift out. “I like to be watched,” she said, “watched as I do rather intimate things to myself. “My husband came home from work earlier than usual, one day and walked in on me while I had a large rubber cock stuffed up my ass and another one in my pussy. I thought he was going to be pissed, but it turned him on to see me fuck myself like that. It turned me on that he was watching and I actually came better than I ever had that day. “As time passed, I asked him if he would mind bringing home some select friends and let them watch me as I preformed for their pleasure. It drove me wild seeing those men, sometimes as many as five, sitting here on this couch with their pants down around their ankles and stroking those hard cocks in their hands as they watched me fuck myself. “Sometimes, if I was exceptionally turned on, and I almost always was, I’d suck them off until they shot their hot cum all over my tits. My husband loved to watch me suck those cocks. When the show as over and the men had gone, he could hardly wait to fuck me right here on this couch until we both had very wet orgasms. “God, it’s made me so hot and wet just telling you about it. Will you help me? Will you watch me make myself cum?” Before I could answer her with anything other than a nod of my head, she leaned over and stubbed out her cigarette and then untied the sash holding her robe closed and tossed it off her shoulders. She turned and laid against the end of the couch, throwing one leg over the back and put her other leg on the floor. She was fully nude and wide open for my enjoyment. Her breasts were large and firm, her nipples hard as she tweaked them with her fingers. She closed her eyes and moaned as she trailed one of her hands slowly down her flat stomach to her hairy patch below. Her nether lips were large and puffy as she rubbed her fingers slowly up and down her already wet slit and then stopped at her clit and stroked it lightly, brushing her fingernails across her swollen nub. “Oh, yessss, I love to touch myself while you watch,” she moaned, “take your cock out and stroke it for me. I stood and unbuckled my belt and pulled my jeans and underwear down past my hips and sat down. My eyes never left sight of her touching herself and my cock was already as hard as a rail. Pre cum was slowly seeping from my cock and I wiped it on my shaft. My hand closed around it and started to stroke myself as I watched her. She pulled her pussy lips open and I could see her juice dripping from her hot hole. She put two fingers at the entrance and slowly sank them until she couldn’t go any further. “Ahhh, damn, this feels so good,” she moaned, as her hand picked up the tempo and worked her fingers faster in and out of herself. Her other hand was busy kneading and tugging at her breasts, occasionally pinching her nipples hard. Her head was back and her eyes closed as she strived for her release. I could smell her musky arousal and see her juices flowing out of her as her fingers fucked her cunt hard. “Do you like watching me fuck myself, baby?” She asked, opening her eyes and looking at me, her tongue licking her lips. “Are you getting ready to shoot cum for me, baby?” “God, yes!” I exclaimed, “very fucking soon.” “Stand next to me and put your hard cock in my mouth.” She said, as she shifted her position. “I want to taste your cock before you cum.” I stood and shuffled towards her, my cock, a rigid pole leading the way. She opened her mouth and I pushed my cock inside. “That’s it baby, suck my cock. Oh God, I’m so close.” Her tongue swirled around the top of my cock and then would take all of me deep in her throat. She matched her movement to her own frantic fingering. Her pussy juice squirted out around her flying fingers and landed like rain on the couch. Her cunt was soaking wet and she pulled her knees up to her chest as her first orgasm rolled over her body. “I’m gonna cum, baby, oh God, I’m cumming now!” I cried. She spit my cock out and lay her head on the end rest of the couch and took my cock in her hand, pointing it at her chest. “Cum on my tits, baby, she moaned, “cover my tits with your hot cum!” She stroked my cock twice and I couldn’t hold back another second. The first thick, white rope of cum, exploded out of my cock and landed between her tits. She moved her hand slightly and the second and third stream landed on both of her nipples, then slid slowly down to coat her breasts. “I’m cumming! Oh God, I’m cumming hard, baby.” She screamed, as her hips beat a tattoo on the leather surface of her couch and I saw a stream of liquid squirt from her cunt and pool beneath her ass. Her hands went to her chest and began to rub the still warm cum onto her tits; her hips dry humping the air as she came again and again. “Oh baby, that felt so good when I came for you.” She said smiling broadly. “Did you like watching me?” “I’ve never seen anything like it before. You were like a wild woman when you fucked yourself.” “If you liked that baby, just wait a little while.” She said, as she touched my quickly diminishing cock. “I want your cock in my mouth again and then I want you to fuck my pussy hard.” |
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