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Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica
Description: A Journey of Sapphic Discovery! I please myself as I watch her masturbate through her open windows. When we meet, I show her how women make love with each other and we explore every imaginable possibility of our bodies, our souls, of voyeurism and exhibitionism as we explore the parks, beaches, and art museums of the contemporary city. In the process we court the goddess of the moon, revel in the infinite possibilities of the erotic temple art of ancient India, discuss our lives and loves, our disappointments and injuries, and enjoy a man and his voluptuous wife. Only my karate training saves the day when the lurking menace I've been sensing becomes real.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: April 2008

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [140 KB]
Words: 34451
Reading time: 98-137 min.

CHAPTER I

Max was one of the few people who remembered my birthday, much less with a present. After I had fixed tea for us, I carefully and ceremoniously removed the fancy wrappings from the heavy package on the dining room table.

"Just a little something," he said in his affected way, full of anticipation and hope at the same time as I unfolded the last of the wrapping paper to uncover the tome it concealed. "Just a little something to remember me by."

"The Erotic Temple Art of India," I read the title. "But Max..." I said, hesitating, "I didn't know you..."

"I don't, sweetheart," he said, "But such sets, such a sense of theater, of drama. Look at these." He was standing beside me opening the book. "Look at the sense of motion, the sense of action. These things are carved in stone and flow and move like ... like some kind of stage drama."

That was Max. If he paid any attention to anything, it was enthusiastic attention. "I wish we could get that much packed into our sets at the Civic Opera," he said. He was their production manager-the person in charge of costumes, sets, making all the drama of it work so the audience always sees drama, glitter and show instead of dust balls, grime, sweat, and stained costumes.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, "It looks like you have your own drama over here," he said, his attention riveted on the apartment across the courtyard from mine. The shades were up and as clear as day we could see a woman come into the bedroom from the shower. She dried her hair and wrapped it in a turban.

"She must wear high cut bathing suits," Max said, always observant of clothes and bodies. I could see she shaved her pubic hair so there was just a stripe down the middle. He draped his arm over my shoulder as we watched her put on her bra and panties and get dressed.

"Now that's what I call drama," he said. "Too bad she's not a hulking young construction worker hung like a horse, something I would be interested in. Well, dear, enjoy the book. I have to run. Happy birthday," he said as he left.

I looked through the window again, but she was sitting at her desk working on the computer. Checking e-mail, I supposed. Or playing a game. I sat at the table and started leafing through the book. Max was right. Here were vivid illustrations of every combination of human genitals known to humanity and some I had to think were never known, just imagined. I mean, people just can't get into such positions, much less three or four of them at a time.

I found the women particularly attractive with their high round breasts, large hard nipples, round bellies, round hips and full thighs. All woman. None of the worship of the immature girl here.

I found my hand moving to my lap, unfastening my pants, slipping into my panties where my finger parted my wet labia and started circling my clitoris. I turned another page and continued the motion of my right hand on my clitoris. Women kissing each other while a man fucked one of them from behind. In the next panel the man is standing between them fucking both of them with his fingers, and they both have hands on his erection. One of them folds in front of him, her legs around him and he's fucking her standing up while the other woman kisses her from behind him. How could they do this stuff? I wasn't reading the text when I turned the page.

My finger was working faster and faster and I felt the first spasm of orgasm overtake me. I put the book away and went into the bedroom where I could take off my pants, and panties and lay naked from the waist down with my heels drawn up to my butt to open my cunt wide to my fingers. I started stroking my clitoris faster and more firmly now that it was hard. I reached down with my left hand to bunch the flesh up so the tip of my clit would protrude and with the longest finger of my right hand gently stroked the tip of it till I started to cum again. I shuddered to another orgasm, then opened my legs again, and started gently stroking the underside of my clit, the whole length of it from my vagina to the tip until I came again. Then I took off my shirt and bra and turned over for a nap.

When I woke, I looked out the window and into her bedroom again. She was still at her computer. I saw a man come in and put his hands on her shoulders. She seemed to shrug him off, but in a moment, she stood and took off her clothes. I saw him undressing in the dim hall light he had left on. He turned off the bedroom light, then he was on top of her. If I found this erotic, I might have started masturbating again, but I felt a chill run down my back as it evoked ancient feelings of pain, fear, and hurt. It didn't last long. He was dressed and gone and she was in a robe and back at her computer before the thought had a chance to finish itself.

It was a couple of days before Max came to the art museum where I work. He wanted to consult some of our collections for a set he was working on. He leered at me and presented me with a pair of binoculars. He said someone had left them in the opera and never claimed them. They were more for bird watching than opera watching anyway. He knew I wouldn't use them for bird watching.

That night after work, I sat in my darkened bedroom with the binoculars by my side waiting. Again she came in from the bath steaming and beautifully naked. She arched her back to throw her breasts out and, I swear looked right out the window and into my binoculars. I put them down, ashamed, but then I understood there was no way she could see me. She was smiling at something else. Maybe her husband was in the room out of my sight somewhere-but she seemed to be showing off for someone, then she lay on the bed.

Their bed was against the wall away from the window, so when she laid on it her feet were toward the window and I could see her open her legs. The binoculars gave me an up close view of her finger running gently along the outer flesh of her labia, just barely touching.

She put her finger between her labia, spread them apart, shiny and wet. Her fingers started slowly massaging her mons as she stretched her legs out and pressed them together. She opened her legs again, drew her heels up to her butt and open her labia slowly again with one finger, stretching each of the labia out like butterfly wings glistening pink with moisture as she stroked between them slowly inserting her finger inside her vagina, then massaging her clitoris.

My right hand was between my legs. I was wet and hungry.

I watched her draw the moisture upward to her clitoris, then coax her clitoris out from its cowl by stroking along the topside. When it got hard she stroked the end of it. It was larger than most I've seen. Or licked. She bunched her fingers together and turned over face down, her beautiful round butt up in the air and began to fuck her fingers. Her butt was going up and down, around and around on the fingers until she collapsed and lay there, her legs stretched out in a V open to the window. It wasn't a minute before I started cumming too.

The next night I was treated to the same delight, but when she lay down to masturbate she stayed on her back, stroking her clitoris, her cunt open for me to see. I could see her shudder when she came. She continued, as though that orgasm wasn't sufficient. She kept stroking her clitoris until she came again, and again then she lost control in a deep shudder and dropped her hand to her side.

Again I felt, I sensed I couldn't be the only one watching her. I couldn't see anyone inside the house, but I guessed her husband must be the audience for these performances. Or boyfriend, or whoever the guy had been. I sensed someone else there-and that sense is not something I take lightly. I know that when I feel someone's presence, someone is there, whether I see the person or not. I've learned to trust that feeling.

Sometimes I thought I saw a figure outside watching, more a shadow, or probably a tree, in my peripheral vision when I set down the binoculars. When I looked directly, I saw nothing. I scanned the courtyard carefully, and saw nothing. I thought it was probably just a paranoid feeling, something that came on me because I was being a peeping ... what Jane? A voyeur. People aren't supposed to spy on other people, watch them bathe, watch them do intimate things. I attributed it to guilt feelings-but I continued.

I wanted to feel her clitoris under my tongue. I wanted to make her shudder like that but to keep the pressure up after she stopped, to keep at it incessantly until she totally lost control, to send her to another planet with my tongue.

Saturday morning everyone washes their clothes. The laundry room was empty but all the washers were whirling away. I sat down to read MS Magazine and wait for someone to come get their clothes so I could wash mine. From the door at the other end of the room my neighbor from across the courtyard came in. The one I had been watching. The one I had seen come in naked from her shower and masturbate. I thought I would take the opportunity to tell her.

"Did you know that sometimes you leave your bedroom shade up?" I warned. I told her I had seen her coming in from the shower.

She said, "Do you watch me masturbate too?" Her tone of voice was more hopeful than accusatory.

I looked at the floor and she continued, "I felt like someone was watching. I was hoping it might be you. That thought makes me hot and I start to act, to show off."

"If I can see, maybe other people can see too," I said.

"All the better," she replied. "I'll think of everyone in the whole place watching and that'll turn me on even more. Lord knows I need something. My husband doesn't do it for me. He pokes it in, comes, goes to sleep. The end. Or worse, goes back to his computer in his office. He's useless. I bet you never saw him fucking me? It never lasts long enough for you to see. Tell you what," she offered, "Next time I'm going to do myself, I'll call and let you know so you can watch and I'll know you're watching. That'll make it better for me. I'll give you a real show."

She emptied two washers and put her clothes in a dryer while I put detergent, quarters and clothes in the two empty washing machines. I said I had a better idea, for her to come to my place while our washers and dryers were working and we could make love.

"I've never been with another woman," she said. She hesitated, looked up from under her eyelashes and said, "Except in my fantasies when I'm masturbating. Sometimes you're in them. I've seen you around ... at the mailboxes, at the pool..."

Minutes later we were sitting naked on my bed. I pulled her face close to mine and whispered that what I enjoyed most about watching her masturbate was when she moved her finger on her clitoris. I gently pushed her back onto the bed and spread her legs, ran my finger between her labia as I had seen her do, and started massaging the back of her clitoris the way she does.

She gasped and said, "This is moving so fast." I took my hand away, and sat up. When she looked up at me and closed her eyes, I knew she wanted me to kiss her. We kissed long and hard. "I told you I'd never been with another woman," she said. "Let's go slowly."

I kissed her nipples, stroked her stomach, reached down to the bare place where her pubic hair had been and gently traced my finger along the curve of the highest point of her leg and down to her anus and back up between her labia, over her clitoris, up the strip of thick black public hair, to her navel, under each breast, between her breasts, under her chin, across her lips, under her nose, and over her forehead.

I pulled her earlobe between my lips, in and out and put my tongue into her ear and moved it in and out as if I were fucking her there. Now my hand was back on her mons massaging her clitoris beneath the flesh. Her breathing was faster, her stomach moving rapidly with her breath as I opened her labia with my fingers and continued where I had started, but now her clitoris was large and hard and I stroked the tip barely touching it as I had watched her doing.

Instead of putting a finger inside her, I kissed her mouth long and hard again, our tongues twisting together, kissed each nipple, ran the tip of my tongue along her stomach, circled her navel, ran my tongue up the crease of each thigh, and got up from the bed. I nudged her head to the center of the bed and her feet to the edge, pulled her feet till she understood and moved them to the floor, her body at right angles to the bed.

I knelt on the floor between her knees, lifted her feet up to the bed and opened her cunt with my fingers. I put my mouth on her cunt, sucked her long thin labia between my lips, held them there and ran my tongue along them inside my mouth, moved them in and out between my lips. She arched her back, raised her butt, put it back down, and panted-hard and fast.

Holding her labia open with my fingers, I ran the tip of my tongue gently around the end of her clitoris as I had watched her doing with her finger. When her breath became irregular, I pressed harder and quickened the pace. It didn't take her long to start coming, but I knew what she did for herself, so I don't let up.

I continued and increased the pressure and the pace till she was having orgasm after orgasm, each one more intense than the last. She gasped, "Enough, please. Enough." I continued until her whole body began to quake in paroxysms of pleasure. Now she had lost control. I continued until the seizures stopped and her whole body went limp.

I sat on the chair and looked at her body while she lay there, her eyelids half shut, the whites as slender crescents showing under them. I thought, "That was an orgasm worth having," and gently stroked myself. I didn't feel like coming, I just wanted something.

When she woke she said, "My god, the laundry."

I gave her a pair of sweats to pull on and I put on a robe. A couple of disgruntled looking neighbors were waiting for the machines. She piled her dried laundry into her basket and I moved my wet clothes into the dryer. She came back to my apartment after she took her laundry to hers. She had left some clothes at my place, after all.

When she came in, I told her to cool her jets. Now it was my turn to go slowly. I didn't want to start anything again till my laundry was folded and put away, and I could give her my full attention.

"Look at this book," I said, as I led her into the dining room to show her the book Max had given me.

"I saw the binoculars in your bedroom," she said as she looked me straight in the eye.

"As I said, I like to watch you," I answered

I sat in one of the armchairs and she lounged across the couch. Her hands were inside the sweatpants. "And I said I like it," she said. She was standing and in two deft moves stripped off the sweats and stood naked. She lay back on the couch and put one leg over the back and stretched out the other leg to open her cunt to me. "You might as well have a ring side seat," she said as she started to stroke her labia.

"Hold that thought," I said, "No, just keep doing what you're doing. I'm going to run get the rest of my laundry. Be right back."

When I came in with my dry clothes, she was still there, masturbating, gently stroking herself. "I like to hold myself right on the edge like this," she said. "Then, all of a sudden, I can do this." She stroked herself faster and harder and shuddered to an orgasm. Then she did it again. And a third time. She opened her eyes and said, "Oh Jesus, this is hot. Do you like it? Am I pleasing you? Do you like it?"

I said yes. I did.

"Do you have a dildo?" she asked.

"I'm not thrilled to have anything penetrate me," I answered.

"I like it," she said "A cucumber maybe?"

That I did have. I took one from the fridge and led her back to my bedroom. We kissed and she played with my breasts and stroked my clitoris while the cucumber was warming up. She said again she'd never been with a woman and asked me what to do.

"It's that old Golden Rule thing," I said, "Do undo others as you would have them do unto you. Just to do for me what you do for yourself."

She was pretty good at it. I think she was better to me than she is to herself.

As we lay on the bed face to face, breast to breast, she reached between my legs and brought me right to the edge of an orgasm. Then she backed off, slowed down, reduced the pressure on my clitoris, moved her fingers down to my labia, and circled my anus, until I cooled down a degree or two, then she resumed. Her finger on my anus was almost as good as on my clitoris.

For half an hour she kept me floating right there, on the edge of an orgasm. Finally, I was squirming in anticipation, ready to beg for it before she let me have it and pushed me over. She kept me over just as I had done for her. She continued that light pressure on the end of my clitoris until I was floating in another universe, a place that was warm and soft. I hovered just barely aware that I had a body, just barely aware of my own fast breathing, barely aware of my own shuddering and twitching.

When I opened my eyes, her legs were wide open and she was holding the cucumber in one hand fucking herself with it and stroking her clitoris with her finger. I lifted her head and put it on my lap as I stroked her breasts and moved my hand down toward her cunt. I put her hand with the other on the cucumber and took over the clitoris doing what I know she liked. She started coming immediately but didn't loose it totally like before.

She pulled out the cucumber, drenched with her cum and asked if I'd like it. I explained again that I don't like being penetrated but I took it and looked at her while I slowly licked her cum off it. "Your tongue is something else," she said. "I don't know what you were doing, but that's the best I've ever had. Do you think you could teach me to do that?"

I said I thought I probably could and asked her to tell me about her fantasies. We lay on the bed, holding hands, stroking each other lightly while she talked. She said she'd seen me at the pool and watched while I leaned down to get in. She'd looked at my breasts and wondered what it would be like to hold them in her hands. She'd seen my nipples, large and hard from the cold water, beneath the fabric and wondered what it would be like to suck on them.

When she was alone doing herself, she would imagine me coming into her bedroom, pulling down the straps of my swimming suit, peeling the front off, holding my breasts in my hands, offering them to her mouth. She would kiss my nipples, pull down my suit to my feet and I would step out to be naked with her. We would hug and she would feel my breasts on her.

After that she said it became vague, she didn't know what to do. The fantasy was about being hugged, being wanted, warm and safe in someone's arms. I got up, and pulled her up by her hand and we embraced each other tightly. Our cheeks pressed softly but firmly against each other. I could feel her breasts against my own, pushing against them, compressing them.

I held her to me with my left arm and ran my right hand along her back, over the arc of her butt, around her butt, between her buttocks, around her butt and back up her back. I pushed my groin against hers and felt her answering pressure, started to move slightly forward and back, as she matched my movement. My right hand moved down the outside of her left thigh and up between us, to the bare space where she shaved her pubic hair.

"Why do you shave here?" I asked. She said it was so her pubic hair wouldn't curl out from under her bathing suit. That embarrassed her and she liked the high cut suits that accentuated her long legs and thighs. Max was right. He usually was when it came to clothes, drama or makeup. He was so much better at that than I was.

My lips gently touched hers. I put my tongue gently on her lips, opened them, felt her jaw relax and her teeth open, put my tongue between her lips, felt her lips tighten around my tongue and begin to pull me into her.

Her tongue was eager for mine, wrapped itself around mine and I continued to explore her mouth. My right hand continued the light massage of her butt and back, up to her neck, under her hair, around her head and back. The kiss was long and full of longing for completeness, the aching of unfulfilled hungers, suggestive of the craving of lust and the yearning for love at the same time, full of passion and compassion.

I asked if that was like her fantasy and she said it was. We sat on the bed, then lay back, our legs dangling off the side. I turned to her and she answered with a kiss. We lay there and gently stroked each other's breasts and stomachs, just down to where our pubic hair started.

She said, "I've never had such an intense sexual experience as that, how did you do it?" We were sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing each other. I reminded her that I had been watching her, that I had learned what she did for herself, what she liked, and how she liked to do it.

I explained I had seen her cum repeatedly but never consecutively because she lost control of her hand and I had thought if I maintained the pace and pressure on her clitoris when she could not, it would be intensely pleasurable. "It sure was," she sighed.

I explained that her clitoris seemed larger than most, the largest I had experienced. I had thought that whether or not that contributed to the ease with which she could come and the intensity of her orgasms, it was good to watch and lick because I could feel it under my tongue, taut and hard.

"I've never seen a clitoris," she said, "even my own." She looked into my eyes. "You said you could teach me to do what you did? Then I could ... well ... I'd like to be able to give you that too."

"Yes," I said, remembering the first part, learn what your partner likes, see what she does for herself. That's when I lay down again, my heels against my butt, open to her, so she could see everything, and put the second finger of my right hand on my anus and slowly moved it in a circle, then slowly moved it between my labia and up to my clitoris.

I was straining my neck to lift my head enough to see her, and could see she was staring wide eyed, fascinated, her eyes fastened on my vagina and my finger. She was seeing my clitoris now. I held my labia open to her gaze and heard her catch her breath as I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and began to circle my clitoris with my finger. I knew she would be a quick study.