Close Encounters of An Erotic Kind

01

Shopping for Shoes

After my sophomore year in college I took two summer jobs to earn money for the coming school year. Weekdays I worked in a coffee shop during the busy morning hours, six to ten. From four to closing time at nine, I worked in an upscale shoe store on the nicest block in the area, a place that appealed to women who could afford the latest designs from Italy and Spain. In the middle of the day I usually read books assigned in my upper level literature course, “The American Novel in the Twentieth Century.” The readings were engaging and the professor, who was also my advisor, arranged credit for me so long as I wrote a substantial paper before the start of the fall semester. I wanted to graduate early so this would help.

In both the coffee shop and the shoe store I enjoyed the opportunity to interact with attractive women. Some of them, especially in the shoe store where the pace was less hurried, seemed to enjoy looking back at me, flirting with a decent looking young man who obviously enjoyed the exchange. Overall it was a pleasant summer.

One of my tasks at the shoe store, as low man on the pole, was to turn off the lights and lock up the store just shortly after nine. One night, as I prepared for the end of my shift, an extremely gorgeous woman came in the door just a few minutes before closing time. I knew I had seen her there before. Surely I had not waited on her or I would have remembered her in more detail. In any case, as soon as she was inside the store she said to me, “I’m sorry to arrive so late but there is one shoe in the window that I very much would like to try on before you close. Can you help me with that? I’ll show you.” I followed her to the display area, enjoying watching her hips and legs move enticingly under her black wrap around dress. I thought perhaps she had stopped in for a few minutes while on her way to a late dinner in the fine restaurant around the corner. She pointed out the shoes that interested her. I noticed the gold wedding band on her left hand.

I asked her to seat herself in one of the fitting chairs. As I looked up at her I appreciated more fully how very beautiful she was, her face and neck, her hair, her wide and deep brown eyes. She wore small gold earrings and a very narrow gold necklace. I went to the back of the store to retrieve the shoes in the size that she gave me. When I returned I sat in front of her on a short fitting stool and asked her to give me her foot so that I could remove one of her shoes. As I did so it was tempting to sneak a look further up her lovely leg encased in a sheer black stocking. I resisted. I removed one of the shoes from its box. I looked again into her face; she was smiling at me, almost a smirk. She either was conveying her sense of my status in service to her, or perhaps testing my ability to resist appraising more fully her lovely feet and legs. As I slipped the new shoe onto her foot, placing my hand around her ankle to guide it, I was struck by the shapeliness of her ankle and calf. Exquisite was the word that popped into my head. “How does that look and feel,” I asked?

“I like it,” she said. “This shoe feels very nice on my foot.” Then she lifted her leg as though to see the shoe on her foot more closely and she swung that leg outward and twisted it to give herself a better view from the side. In doing so, with her very short dress, she gave me a full view of the insides of both legs, all the way to her lovely bare pussy, up above the top of her stockings which were fastened to a black garter belt. I could not avert my eyes. Perhaps I sighed.

She asked me, “How do you think the shoes look on me? Perhaps it will help if you take off my other shoe and put the new one on my other foot so I can get a better look. As I again grasped her ankle I looked up at her, hoping that she might give me some signal of her wishes. Her only reaction was to swing that leg wider as well, clearly intending for me see even more clearly her sex spread wide, her pussy glistening. She held that pose for ten seconds or so. I was stunned and speechless.

“Do you like the way these shoes look on me?” she asked again.

“I have never seen a pair of shoes so perfectly suited to a woman. Very lovely. ”

“I’m not certain,” she said. “Perhaps I will return to try them on again. Would you help me again if I come in?”

“Certainly,” I said. “Just ask for James.”

“I will,” she said. “I come to this street to shop every Thursday evening. I will plan to be here at just about this same time next week. I’m sure you will have other shoes I will want to try on. I promise to be a patient customer, James. You won’t mind if I take my time, even if it is a bit past closing, will you James?”

“I will look forward to seeing you again.”

“I know you will James. My name is Gretchen. And I will look forward to you seeing you again. You are a beautiful boy. Good night. Sweet dreams.”

We repeated this act for the next two Thursdays. Gretchen arrived a few minutes before nine. She sat down in an area that could not be observed from outside the store. I assisted her as she tried on each different pair of shoes, all very expensive ones. Each time she looked at her watch and said to me. “James, I know know it is closing time. May I stay a while longer?” I turned the lights down in the front section of the store and returned to where she was seated. Each week she opened her legs for a longer time for my enjoyment and, I assumed, for hers as well. Each time she wore a different combination of stockings and garter belt. Nothing else under her skirt.

On her fourth Thursday visit she asked me, “James, how old are you?”

“I am twenty.”

“I am thirty-seven, James, nearly twice your age. They say that men reach the height of their sexual capacity at around twenty while women do so in their mid-thirties. Have you heard that James?”

“I didn’t know that. Thank you. That is a good thing to know.”

“Do you enjoy showing shoes to me each week?”

“Very much. I look forward to it.”

“I like it too,” she said. “And do you like what I show you each week?”

“You know I do, Gretchen.”

“Do you want more, James?”

“Whatever will please you will please me.”

Her deep brown eyes stared directly into mine. Smiling, she leaned further back in the chair and pulled up her skirt to give me a better view. She was obviously aroused, her pussy moist. She moved her right hand to her slit and began to stroke herself, slowly, her eyes focused on my own which were devouring the raw sexuality of her performance.

“I like teasing you, James. You have been very patient with me, so I thought I should give you something more.”

I watched as she inserted one finger, moving it in and out of her pussy, positioning her finger so that with each slide she was brushing her clit as well. She kept this up for several minutes enjoying her touches as well as my eyes on her. She began to breathe more deeply and then closed her eyes. I watched her hand move faster on her sex. She moaned as she shuddered with her orgasm. She opened her eyes and gazed contentedly directly into mine.”

“Was that nice for you James? It was for me. Did you get hard from watching me touch myself like that?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Was it difficult not to touch yourself, James?”

I told her it was.

“Next Thursday, if I do this for you again, will you touch yourself for me at the same time? I would like to see you doing that, James.”

I nodded my head. She smiled at me as she smoothed her skirt and left the store.

The summer seemed to be flying by and too soon there were only two Thursdays left before I would need to leave for the fall semester.

The next week, I helped her try on another pair of shoes. When I turned down the lights this time she asked if we could move back to the storage area so that she could leave by a private door. We did that and I pointed out to her the rear exit. She sat down in a chair and asked me to sit in one directly opposite.

She unbuttoned her sweater and pulled it aside so that I could see her breasts. She wore no bra. “James, do you like seeing my breasts? I want to touch them and make my nipples hard for you.” She looked into my eyes which I’m sure were bright with my lust. She used the thumb and forefinger on each hand to pull on her nipples, tweaking them as I stared. I had not see such prominent nipples before. Then she raised her skirt again and began to play with her pussy with her right hand. She smiled at me, enjoying the moment. I was not surprised when she asked, “Now James, take out your dick and show it to me. We can please ourselves and please each other.”

This mutual masturbation was an entirely new experience for me, one I had never imagined. Her expression told me she enjoyed our watching one another, sharing our self-pleasure. After several minutes of this she said to me, “This is nice James. Go ahead and come when you need to. I will try to come with you.”

I waited as long as I could. When I jacked up my speed she did the same with her fingering. One hand was on her pussy and the other cupped a breast. We consciously matched our rhythms and finished at almost the same instant. I tried to catch my cum but it was dripping from my hand and some was on the front of my shirt. After a minute of rest, Gretchen buttoned her sweater, lowered her skirt, and stepped toward me. She brought my hand to her mouth and licked the palm, tasting my ejaculate. She told me to open my mouth and she put her right fore-finger in my mouth. “Taste me, James.” After I did, she turned and left by the back door.

On the last Thursday evening of summer when I turned the lights down in the front area of the store Gretchen immediately suggested we go to the the storage room again, asking, “James, can we continue as we were last week? I liked us sharing that intimacy.” So we began again, sharing pleasure by pleasuring ourselves. She was entirely naked under her skirt this time. “I love seeing your penis, James. I want to feel it tonight. Would you like to have me tonight before we part, to fuck me, James? I would like to give that to you.” I was not sure how she wanted this to happen so I waited.

She stood and walked toward the shelves to the left of the rear exit. She turned and faced me as she removed her blouse, letting me see her lovely full breasts and her firm nipples. She touched them again. “Sometime James, but not tonight, I will want you to suck my nipples for me. I feel a lot when a man does that. I think you will like it. Something to think about James.”

Gretchen turned away from me. She stood facing the ladder we used for reaching the higher shelves. She dropped her skirt and leaned over placing her hands on the ladder. She spread her legs far apart. She looked magnificent. I understood now what the word statuesque was meant to convey. The muscles in her hips and legs looked powerful. She looked over her shoulder at me. “James, have you had sex with girls your age?”

“Only with two girlfriends,” I answered. Telling the truth.

“But not with a woman. Only girls?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to fuck a woman, James? If you would, come and do it.”

“No one could resist such and invitation, Gretchen. Your body is a miracle.”

“Not a miracle, James. I work hard every day to keep it this way. My husband has high expectations for the way I look, James. I like to please him. He has done so much for me. But he doesn’t own me. I am in charge of my sexual life.”

I walked to her, leaned over to reach her breasts and touch her large nipples for the first time. At the same time I pushed my dick up into her pussy. It slid in easily. I noticed again the gold band on her left hand.

“This is for you, James, because you added rare pleasure to my summer. Go slow, wait if you can. Make this last as long as you can. I want you to enjoy seeing your cock going in and out of me. Keep that picture in your mind, James. I want you to remember how this looked and felt.”

It was delicious to feel myself entering her hot and smooth cunt, the way she felt tight and slippery at the same time as I fucked her. Several times I felt her tighten herself around me to add to my pleasure. It was too much for me and too soon I began to lose control. I came in her with several strong jerks of my cock. I did not know what to say to her.

As I withdrew from her Gretchen turned and smiled. Her face was red, her whole body was glowing. At least that is how it seemed to me. She began to put on her skirt and blouse.

“James, I believe you enjoyed that. Will you be back here working next summer?”

“Probably in the area, but maybe not here. I can’t know that now.”

She handed me a small card, just her first name and a number. “Take this James. If you want to see me next summer, or even during any holiday when you are home, call the number and leave a message. Say, ‘Gretchen, your shoes are ready!’ and leave your phone number and a good time for me to call you. Perhaps I will have a special holiday present for you and you will have one for me.”

I opened the door for her. She kissed me lightly on the cheek as she walked through the door. She turned down the narrow walk way and back to the street. I wondered if she could feel my cum dripping from her as she walked.

It was several years after this that I met my wife, a couple more before we were married and then still a few more before I told her the details of my erotic summer experience in the shoe store. Though she professes to believe me, I wonder if she does. I swear it happened just as I have described it here.

02

Our First Anniversary

As our first anniversary approached, my husband Jack was away in San Francisco handling negotiations on an important case for his law firm. During the two weeks he had been gone my painting was going very well. It often did while he was away. I needed new work to offer to the galleries in Cleveland, Chicago and New York that handled my paintings. Overall I was pleased with my art and with my life generally. Then Jack called me late Thursday night to tell me he would not be able to come home for our first anniversary on Sunday; negotiations were at a crucial stage and likely to continue through most of the next week. He hoped to be home in Cleveland by the next week end.

“Jack, I was so looking forward to being together on our first anniversary. It will be sad and lonely without you, sweetheart.” He assured me he felt the same and would make it up to me as soon as we were together. He also reminded me that Saturday was not only our anniversary but also the day of the firm’s annual picnic for its lawyers and staff and their families.

” Amber, I hope you will go. We have looked forward to this, especially to see some of the other young lawyers and their partners. Please go without me. You always enjoy being with some of these people and you will feel less lonely if you go. With all those young single lawyers around you won’t need to feel you are the only one without a partner.” I told Jack I would plan to go, that being with good company in a beautiful setting on the lake might help me not feel so alone.

On Sunday I drove east of the city to the lovely mansion on the lake where the company picnic was being held. I arrived late afternoon and noticed that families with children had already begun to leave after several hours of food, drink and games on the lawn. I was not much in the mood for children or games. I circulated for a half hour saying my polite hellos to the firm’s partners and their spouses. Almost everyone inquired about Jack and commiserated with me on his absence. I did not tell any of them today was our first wedding anniversary.

After I filled a plate from the buffet table and picked up a gin and lemonade at the small bar, I made my way to where some of the people I knew best were sitting and enjoying the remains of the day. I sat down on a vacant chair, chatted first with a young lawyer and his wife who Jack and I knew well, and then turned to introduce myself to the man next to me, the only older man at the table. I knew that his name was Arthur Vickery, that he was a member of the firm, and that I had met him once previously. I also recalled what Jack had told me about him, that his younger and very beautiful wife had died suddenly about six months ago. Arthur looked to be between fifty and sixty, still very handsome, a bit subdued which was understandable. I assumed he would not remember me but to my surprise he said, “You are Jack Best’s wife. I recall meeting you briefly at the picnic last year, a bit later in the summer I think. You were newlyweds if I recall correctly. Is Jack here? I haven’t seen him.”

I explained the circumstance of my being here alone and I did mention to him that today was our first anniversary. “We are no longer newlyweds,” I said.

Arthur replied, “It must be disheartening to be apart for an anniversary, especially the very first one. Jack should have mentioned this; the firm should have known and sent someone else to San Francisco or we should have flown him home, even for just a day, at our expense.” I thanked him for his sympathy and I wondered why Jack had not tried harder to be with me. Jack is very ambitious and hopes to rise quickly in the firm. But still. Our first anniversary.

Arthur and I began to talk, very comfortably. I liked him almost immediately as we discovered several interests that we shared: a love of the novels of Anthony Trollope and the movies of Alfred Hitchcock, a high regard for the several female members of the Supreme Court, and a special affection for homemade pecan pie. We traded opinions about all of these and then other topics at random. I began to feel I was spending too much time with Arthur and slighting friends and other acquaintances but I was feeling lonely for my husband, maybe slightly resentful that he had not worked some magic way to be with me on this first anniversary, and I was enjoying getting to know Arthur Vickery. I rationalized that Arthur’s awareness of Jack’s dedication would also be useful to him in the firm.

As the day came to an end, as a gesture toward those who wanted to stay longer, the firm had arranged for a quartet to continue to play as the sun began to go down over the lake. Several older husbands and wives and a larger number of the younger lawyers and their girlfriends or boyfriends remained behind for dancing and another round of drinks. By this time I had had several glasses of gin and lemonade and was floating a bit when Arthur asked me to dance with him. He was a very good dancer and I felt relaxed and secure in his arms. I told him after a few dances that I thought I should sit for awhile and maybe have a cup of coffee to make certain I was prepared to drive home.

“I know just the place for you to clear your head, Amber, a short walk to a bench under a shady tree, a great spot to watch the sun go all the way down and to feel the evening breeze come in off the water. I will step inside to get a cup of coffee for you and then we can enjoy the view until you feel ready to leave.”

This made sense to me and with my coffee in hand we followed a winding path along one side of the property through trees and shrubs to a quiet place with a lovely view out over the water. We sat on the bench there and remained quiet for some minutes. Arthur told me again that he was sorry that Jack and I could not be together here on our anniversary. He said, “I know what it is to be alone, away from the person you love best in all the world.”

I said, “Arthur, I know about your wife, your tragedy; you must be terribly lonely. Jack being away can’t compare to what you must feel every day.”

Arthur began to talk of marriage, of his marriage, of its passions and pleasures, its ups and downs, it’s comforts and even of its risks. He said couples need always to celebrate the high points and, for the downs, to have patience, to realize that your love will bring you back together if you wait on it. “You need to recognize its importance, to take nothing for granted, to work for it every day. I know these things now better than I did before I lost Felice. No problem you and Jack will face will be impossible except the one that I have experienced, an irredeemable separation.”

Arthur was quiet then and his face reflected his deep pain. I felt that he had become my friend and I hoped that he felt the same about me after only our brief time together. I wished I could lift his sprits. I turned to look into his handsome sad face, and I said to him. “Arthur, I am so sorry about your wife. While I can imagine the love you shared I can’t imagine what it must be like to have it sundered. Can I help in any way? ”

He was quiet, looking out over the water. I felt lonely for myself and on his behalf as well. I reached up with my hand and turned his face toward me, surprised at what I wanted to do for him. “Arthur, let me kiss you. Think about how that would be if Felice was here with you still.”

I kissed him very softly and held the kiss for quite a long time before he began to return it at all, then very slowly pressing harder against my lips as his arms came around me. I snuggled against him, letting him know I was comfortable with the physical contact. I realized I liked being with him like this, that I wanted to give him this time with me as a gift. I knew he was surprised, as I was, but I sensed he also was very pleased. I let the tip of my tongue slip out and press against his teeth. There was no response to this so I pressed a bit harder and his mouth opened. So now we shared warmer kisses. More intimate. He returned mine and held me tighter. “This is nice for me Arthur. Is it for you?”

“Wonderful. Amber, you don’t need to do this.”

“I know, but it is sweet. I want to be sweet to you.”

As I looked into his eyes I moved my hand to his lap. I could feel his erection. Firm, aroused from our kisses. I felt pride in that. I slid my hand along his length inside his pants. Gently and slowly. I heard his intake of breath. Then a sigh.

“Arthur, should I stop?”

“No, please.”

I took one of his hands and pressed it against my breast. “Touch me Arthur. Be easy about it. Unbutton my blouse if you wish. I am lonely too, tonight.”

He loosened several buttons and moved one hand inside my light bra, gently tweaking my nipple. I felt alive to his touch. I continued to move my hand on his sex. “Arthur, may I unzip you. I would like for you to feel my hand on you.”

He could not bring himself to tell me he wanted that. I moved the zipper down and then reached for him. He shifted so that it was easy for me to put my hand around him and bring him out. I began to stroke his cock.

“Is this good, Arthur? Is this something you have needed? I want to give you this as a gift from a new friend.”

I continued to move my hand on his cock, almost a friendly playing with him. Then I said, “Arthur, I have nothing on under my skirt. Will you touch me if I raise my skirt.”

” Can I give you pleasure Amber?”

“You have already given me pleasure Arthur, from our kisses and from touching you.”

So he touched me gently. Soon I asked for him to stroke my clit more firmly with his finger. “Make me come Arthur. I need to come with you. It won’t take much.” I had an easy orgasm. Not shooting stars but very satisfying.

“Now let me make you come Arthur.” I began to stroke him more vigorously. I could tell he was close to coming. “Do you have a handkerchief, Arthur. I will catch your cum.”

“Amber, I’m sorry, I don’t. I don’t want to make a mess for you.”

“Let me know when you are ready, Arthur”.

“Now, Amber, I’m going to come.”

I bent over him and put my mouth around his penis. I felt him jerk and heard his guttural moan. I waited with his cum in my mouth and then swallowed it as best I could. There was not a lot to swallow.

We both leaned back on the bench, surprised, uncertain. After a few minutes I reached over to zip up his pants. He reached over to button my blouse.

” Arthur, what a summer picnic this has been. I hope you are not shocked, that I have not embarrassed or offended you.”

“Amber, no. I never expected such a gift. So generous. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope we will remain friends, good friends but, I suggest, friends without benefits. Perhaps I will regret saying that. Amber, what about Jack?”

“I will tell him, Arthur. We will talk about it. I think I can make him understand. It might be a good thing for us to explore what happened. A kind of test too.”

Jack returned the next Friday, pleased that the case was settled as he had hoped. We made love, hungrily. He took off my clothes and directed me. He wanted me facing away from him kneeling on a leather chair in the library. He took me hard and fast and I liked it that way and told him so. We were both soon ready again. I rode him while he sat in a wooden side chair. I looked over his shoulder at all the law books on the shelves, imagining all the lawyers who wrote them watching me, enjoying the look on my face as my orgasm came.

I said, ” Before we go to sleep there is something I want to share with you. I have done something unexpected, Jack. Something sexual. I want you to help me understand if I have been a very bad girl or, as I believe, a very good girl. I want us to talk about this.

“I sat with Arthur Vickery at the picnic. As we talked over drinks. He confided his sadness over the death of his wife and his frustrating efforts over the past several months to find some new woman for a serious relationship. He was feeling a great deal of anxiety about this because he was so lonely. He talked about marriage, what it means to value it and to be patient when things are difficult. I felt very bad for him and told him that. He said to me, ‘Jack is a talented young lawyer and very fortunate and wise in choosing you as his partner. I envy Jack and I know he wishes he could be with you here and tonight.’

“I sat with Arthur on a bench looking over the lake. He was almost crying. I wanted so much to make him happier, to help him forget the pain for awhile. And so I kissed him, Jack, and that led to more intimate touches, and finally I let him touch me and I touched him and helped him come. I was happy that I did that for him. It was a gift he needed and I thought one he deserved. This is not a love affair, Jack. Not something to be repeated. A passing moment, but not one I am ashamed of or reluctant to tell you about. If anything I am proud of myself. For being a good girl I think.

“I hope the three of us will be friends. I believe you would like him as a friend — as I think I will. Jack, I hope you are mature enough and generous enough to be Arthur’s friend.”

Jack had no response then and has said nothing since about what I had done with Arthur Vickery. I was disappointed. I had coffee several times with Arthur. Then after several months I learned he was involved with a woman closer to his age and then soon he told me he was engaged to her and was very happy.

Jack continued to work very hard. His billable hours increased as did his rate and our income. He was highly regarded in the firm, the pick of the younger lawyers, on a fast track.

CODA: Our second anniversary.

The same week the next June I attended the same picnic. Jack was away again, this time in Argentina. I caught a ride out with a young female lawyer who was putting in an appearance while her husband stayed home with their new baby. I saw Arthur with his new wife. I teased him. “Arthur, make sure you aren’t away for your first anniversary.” I’m not sure he fully appreciated my humor.

I was lonely again that day but determined not to show it. In the late afternoon I danced with a half dozen men, mostly young and single lawyers who knew Jack. I was feeling horny and enjoyed the flirting and the teasing and feeling strong arms around me as we danced. I had dressed in a light diaphanous summer dress designed to provoke the male gaze and to please it. I was feeling daring.

The woman I rode with told me she needed to leave and I said I was sure I could catch a ride back to the city with someone else, that I wanted to stay on. For a good while I was sitting at a table with a young lawyer named Thomas, matching him through several gin and tonics. It was near sunset. I told him I need to be thinking about how to get home. He said, “Amber, I will be happy to drive you home. I would like to do that.”

I said, “Tom, that’s great, but do you mind staying here until the sun has set. I feel a bit tipsy and would like to wait awhile before I get in a car. ” He was OK with that.

Then I said to him,” Tom, I know the perfect place to sit to see the sunset. There is a bench down that path that has a perfect view. Why don’t you come with me. I think you will enjoy what you can see from that bench. I expect to enjoy it too.”

03

Late Night Lights

When my wife Terri and I were in the fourth year of our marriage we lived in a small apartment on the eighth floor of an older building in Brooklyn. We were pleased with ourselves. I had a good job with a management consulting company and Terri had just passed her Ph.D. exams and was taking a few weeks to rest before she began work on her public policy dissertation.

Across a narrow and quiet street from us was a much newer apartment building, with floor to ceiling glass facing out. We could see into some of the apartments in that newer building especially several on our level and on the floors just above and below ours. We assumed that people in that building opposite could see into our apartment but not nearly so well because there was much less glass. We noticed that people in apartments we could see into often did not close their curtains. Then, especially at nights when their lights were on, we could readily discern what the occupants were doing: eating, reading, cleaning, working at a computer, watching a screen, napping, all of the things people do who live in an urban apartment building.

A few times late at night we observed people engaged in something sexual in that other building. That always drew our attention and sometimes held it for a good while. Once we saw a statuesque young blond woman standing in front of a very large black man seated on a couch. While he watched she slowly removed her clothes, piece by piece. She seemed to be dancing to music, following a beat that we could not hear. His hand was in his lap but we couldn’t tell if he was touching himself as she teased him. When she was naked she reached down to take his hand to lead him into the bedroom. We could see that he was fully hard. She turned off the light as they entered the bedroom. Terri had become very aroused by the sexy dance and she touched herself as we watched. She expressed great disappointment at not being able to see the very white blond woman have sex with her very black partner.

Another time we watched a couple on their bed. The woman was lying on her back, her head on a pillow. The man was sprawled on his chest with his mouth between her legs. They were like that for a long time before the woman noticed the curtains were wide open. She pulled them closed. In both of these instances and a few others we turned off our lights as we watched and had very pleasurable sex of our own.

One night very late while my wife was on top, riding my cock, I reached over to the table next to our bed and switched on the small lamp there. Terri stopped moving. “What are you doing Michael?” She crossed her arms over her breasts.

“I like to look at you Terri when you’re riding me like this. I like to see the pleasure on your face and to watch you in motion as you tease me, up and down, slow then fast, setting the pace, being in control. Don’t you like that?”

“You know I like being on top, Michael, but the curtains are wide open. Anyone could see us.”

“Terri, it’s very late. It is highly unlikely anyone is watching us. Relax and enjoy this for a minute. Isn’t it even a little exciting to you to imagine how much a man is enjoying watching you? Wouldn’t it turn you on if you knew some man was desperately straining his eyes to see you right now. Wouldn’t you want to arouse him further and then to reward him by doing something even more erotic for him? Pretend some man is in one of those apartments right now, seeing you, wanting you. Maybe he is touching himself, stroking his cock, wishing you were there to climb on him like you are on me, wishing you were fucking him like you are fucking me. Show him how much you like to fuck like this. Tease him. Slide up and down slowly on my dick and look out the window and smile as though you would welcome him to your bed.”

She nodded and smiled, beginning to play this pretend game with me. She rode me smoothly and slowly for several minutes more. Her breathing quickened as she embraced the idea of someone watching, of showing herself, of doing something unexpected and daring. She was moaning and panting when I switched off the light, turned her over and came into her that way, me on top this time, hard and fast. When we talked about it later we agreed we we had liked the sensations of risk and libertinism we had felt.

We begin to repeat this exhibition, or some close variation, from time to time, always on Friday or Saturday night, always very late. A few times before we turned on our light we observed someone in another apartment doing something sexual, several times a couple kissing passionately and moving their hands on one another. We wanted to see a couple going much further than that. Once we watched a man masturbating on his bed. Terri could not take his eyes off him. She seemed to be growing more and more aroused by the idea of watching and by fantasies of being watched.

Without telling Terri I put stronger bulbs in the lamps next to our bed and next to the couch in our living room. One night we positioned ourselves on the couch so that anyone looking would see us kissing, naked, while I stroked her pussy and then of her playing with and then sucking my hard dick. We tried other positions. Me coming in her from behind. Eating each other. Masturbating together, facing out to the other building. We slowed so that anyone watching would see the desire and pleasure on our faces. Whatever we did we began to do it for longer each time.

Terri begin to enjoy more and more our “late night lights” episodes. She began to crave our creating a sex show for an invisible audience. She knew she was the star. I wondered: was she becoming addicted to exhibitionism or had she always been so inclined but had not been given such an easy opportunity. I had never expected this from her. Had I missed something along the way?

Once in the winter I took Terri from behind fucking her very slowly while she was standing naked in front of the window; her breasts were pressed against the glass. I could feel her excitement. I said, “Terri, are you thinking about how you must look to a couple watching us? He must be lusting for you. She must wish she was in your place, being so beautiful and enjoying a hard prick in your pussy. Tease them Terri, reach down and play with your pussy while I am inside you.”

I went very slowly so she could enjoy her finger on her clit. Then I took my finger in my mouth and made it very slick and put it against her ass and pressed the tip of it in. She gasped.

“Oh, that is so nasty Michael.”

“Being nasty is just what you need sometimes isn’t it,Terri?”

“Yes. Sometimes.”

“Like now, Terri, while you are in such a provocative position and already so hot? Do you like me playing with your ass while my cock is in you?”

“I like it. It is very nasty. So nasty while I am displayed like this.”

“A man watching would see how much you like playing with your self while you are fucking. How do you think that would make him feel?”

“He would probably like it, and also knowing that you had your finger in my ass. And that you were using my ass and I was wanting you to do it.”

“I think so too, Terri. You do like it don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You like feeling nasty and talking about it? Tell me what else you like. ”

“Sometimes I like feeling your cock hard in my pussy, not moving. I like squeezing my cunt around your dick, wanting you to feel it.”

“And what else do you like?”

“I like playing with myself.”

“With what, Terri?”

“With my pussy. Like I’m doing now.”

“And? Anything else you like?

“Your finger.”

” Doing what?”

“Finger fucking me like this. In my ass.”

“Would you say that if someone watching could hear you? What if he was right here next to you? Would you tell him you like to be finger fucked in your ass?”

“I like to think I would. If I was super hot like this. Maybe.”

“What if I stopped and he was here. Would you let him take my place? Fingering you. Fucking you too?”

“Ohhhh! Michael! Ohhhh! I don’t want you to ask me that. I don’t know. Ohhhh, that is so dirty, for you to ask me that.”

I thought to myself that she must be liking the picture I had presented to her for the first time, of another man involved. Maybe her mind was toggling between fear and delight as she imagined this. Maybe her senses were charged by this dialog and by imagining a scene unlike anything we had shared before. Someone else with her. Perhaps she was feeling a new kind of freedom too, free to examine her feelings about what had seemed forbidden.

‘”It is exciting for you, isn’t it Terri, for me to ask you those questions and for you to consider them?”

“I don’t now how to describe it Michael. What you have said is enough for now. Perhaps too much. I want to go to bed now.”

When we were in bed I said, “Terri, it surprises me how much you have come to relish me turning the light on while we have sex. To take the risk of being watched. Does it surprise you that you want that, Terri?”

“You surprised me the night you began this, Michael, when you first turned the light on. I must have been secretly ready for it. Now I think it is sexy to be surprised and to do surprising things. I like it. I want to be surprised sexually. I’m glad you started this.”

The next morning as Terri was leaving for work a man stepped up to her as she turned toward the subway entrance. He said to her, “Thank you for last night. You are a beautiful couple. My wife and I like to watch. We often stay up very late hoping you will appear. You and your husband are wonderful lovers. Both of you are extremely sexy and we have hot sex while we watch you. So please don’t stop.”

That night Terri told me about this man and what he said. She was very excited by this. She said he was very handsome, blond, rugged, very tall. That night, to my surprise, she said to me, “Let’s do something special for our admirers next time. Can you think of something that would be a nice surprise for them?”

“Why don’t you think of something, Terri?”

Very late that next Friday night after Terri and I had been kissing and touching on the couch in the dark, gradually arousing ourselves to a high pitch, I turned on the light.

“I have something special,” Terri whispered.

I watched as Terri turned on some music, stood up and began a very slow sexy dance in front of me, stripping off her blouse and then dropping her skirt to reveal a red garter belt and stockings, shaking her long blond hair as she moved. Sometimes she faced me, sometimes she had her back to me looking out the windows, performing. Gradually her movements quickened and rather than swaying she was jerking and grinding, simulating fucking.

“Terri, if that man who talked to you is watching you move, even if he is with his wife, right now he is imagining fucking you, wanting it to be you. He loves seeing you acting like someone who is eager to be fucked. Are you eager to be fucked by someone, Terri?”

She said nothing. She backed up to me and sat on down on my hard cock, stimulated by her dancing. We both were. Facing out toward the windows she began to fuck me. She was doing all the work, enjoying showing them that she was leading.

“Terri, are you imagining the man who spoke to you at the subway station? Perhaps he is making love with his wife while his mind is filled with you as he watches, Terri. Wanting it to be you he is fucking. He wants that so much. He can’t help himself, Terri.”