Sex Excerpt 11: Watching
I’m a voyeur. A watcher. An observer. I get my enjoyment from seeing it happen to others. And God, it does feel good. Men. Women. Whatever beautiful moment can be designed.
This was the first I had ever ventured farther than my computer screen. I mean, it’s not like voyeurism is widely acceptable no matter how much people unconsciously do it.
But she was gorgeous. The darkest of skin. The whitest of teeth. The reddest of hair. She seemed too much of everything but just enough at the same time.
And he was just as gorgeous. Just tall enough. Just dark enough. Just thick enough. He was simply just enough. Like God had a measuring cup so precise, there was no way to make him too much.
I watched them for a while. I don’t know if they saw me watching them but I couldn’t help myself. They were interesting. She giggled. He kissed her. She giggled some more. He grabbed her hip. She giggled even more. He bit her neck. And I saw that giggle change her mouth shape into a moan. Like they had never came to this party but were here, if that makes any sense.
A part of me wanted to take notes but at the same time, my mind was like a camera. No paper trails needed.
His hand trailed her spine. Her backless shirt making it easy to see the ripples of her skin as she moved around in arousal and it was interesting. Watching her squirm drew my attention more than his blatant techniques of arousal as his hand fell into the low V of her shirt and grabbed her breast. It was dark, nobody could really see unless they were looking close enough or cared enough like me.
Her back arched. A show of imperfection as her spine wasn’t perfectly straight. A slight curve shown under her dark skin. Not flaw inducing, just interesting.
She grabbed his face, whispered against it and he smiled the biggest smile then I noticed there was a mirror in front of their faces. He turned around and stared at me. No smile. No frown. Just interesting. He made a gesture to his face like he was putting on a pair of binoculars and I shrugged in response. Clearly he saw me, why lie?
Then he moved his hand to wave me closer and I shook my head vigorously. Personal interaction ruined the moment. When you knew too much, you knew too much and mystery was always more fun. But he nodded, a small nod but a nod nonetheless. Then twisted his hands as if adjusting a pair binoculars. Was he simply offering me a closer look? Did I really need one?
Clearly I did because how I ended up in a chair in the corner of a room while they were spread across the bed, I never really caught a reason for but I was there. And they were there. And then they were THERE.
It was sensual and awkward and interesting. Because the mystery was still there even though I knew more than I knew minutes before.
And he was really beautiful. That just dark enough skin had a mocha tint that turned copper in the dimmest of lighting. And it was even. Just coppery brown everywhere from his feet to the root follicle of his hair. And it was interesting how anyone could be that color and be the even at the same time. Her chest heaved as he hovered over him. Her breasts, the perfect medium size. Too perky for it's cup but just heavy enough for a grope. And grope he did. Over and over again like a new toy that he was testing. And she breathed. Not moaned but breathed. I had never seen that before. Like foreplay was relaxing instead of invigorating. Ms. Too Much but Enough was becoming even more interesting to me.
As her back arched up from the bed. The heaviness of his dick falling against her leg and finally she made a sound. A soft sound. A soft groan like the coppery snake on her thigh was biting her. Like the pre-cum covering her skin was like venom. I sat up. He was prepared but dragging it out and the unselfishness was devastating. Take her like I thought he would’ve in that party. But he kept moving slow. Slow. Unhurried. Unbothered. Unconcerned.
She just laid there. Her back doing most of the moving. Her voice never louder than a whisper. How I could hear what she was saying was ingenious. Or impossible. Maybe I was just making up her sex talk in my mind but watching him get more powerful. Dick hard enough for him to balance on it like a pogo stick. He rubbed it against her thigh. Against her stomach. Spreading the prequel to his seed all over her skin. It looked wet. More like water with a bit too much salt dissolved in it. A blurry clear more than a creamy white.
Then pushed into her and the most animalistic sound I’ve ever heard came out. So much satisfaction went into that moan. Almost like she was challenging the laws of nature because it was powerful but so soft. So quiet. If you were outside the window, you wouldn’t hear it but being in the corner of the room led to the perfect acoustics.
He pushed. And he pushed. And he pushed. Then she shoved. And she shoved. Then he closed his legs around hers. Held her body in place. His face by her ear. I heard his teeth graze her skin. I heard his moan leave his lips. It’s almost like I heard the orgasm flow from the tip of his dick. Only God could make something that could sound like that. It’s takes purity for that kind of emotion. The Devil would’ve amplified it and made it dirty but it sounded like a wounded angel more than a strong demon. And in the locked position, they moved. Up. Down. Up. Down. Then he stopped but she kept moving. Slowly. Not rushing to an orgasm but pulling one out of him. Then she stopped but he started. He pushed. And he pushed. And he groped then pushed. The muscles of his back strained. His ass clenched. The coppery color blending in one side to the other. And I don’t know why I wanted to leave but perhaps I had seen enough. Maybe I hadn’t seen enough but didn’t want to ruin the happy ending. I’m not sure.
I’m a voyeur. A watcher. An observer. And as creamy cum slid down their dark skin as her pussy overflowed from an orgasm much too slow to be fake, I stood up. I walked to the bed. Swiped my hand across the blurry clear wetness then walked out.