Her light switched on, drawing his attention away from his work. The gleam shone down into his study and he wondered how her day had been today. He only caught a glimpse of her as she flashed past into the bathroom beyond but the thought of her up there made him smile.
From his vantage point here, he could see straight through the large windows and into her bedroom. The house was laid out so that these windows shouldn’t have been overlooked, but sloppy later extensions had invaded her privacy. He sometimes wondered why she didn’t close the curtains, but he never wondered for long.
Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around her and walked into her bedroom. The curtains were still wide open, but the dusty light of the sunset was beautiful and she didn’t want to block it out. Anyway, shutting the curtains would mean he couldn’t see her.
Her wet hair hung down her back and she squeezed out the moisture with the towel. The summer evening was still warm enough that the damp sheen left from the shower soon dried from her now naked skin but, as she brushed through her hair, rivulets of water ran down her shoulders again. As the droplets chased down her back, she shivered slightly, and not only because of the cold.
She wondered if he had seen her. She could never tell if he was there or not. Would it be different if she was sure? Maybe the uncertainty was why she found the thought of being watched so delicious. That she could be so turned on, just because she *thought* she was being watched. Maybe if she knew for certain, it would feel too much like a performance. Maybe she would feel more self conscious.
She pinned up her still damp hair and wiped the last few drops from the back of her neck. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she began to rub moisturiser into her skin. Bending forward and starting with her heels and ankles, she worked her way up her legs and gently massaged out the aches of the day. Moving onto her arms, she softened the dry skin on her elbows and rubbed the firm muscles of her shoulders.
He could not take his eyes off her and her body seemed to glow in the twilight. As she had wandered around her bedroom, he had seen every angle of her. The arch of her back as it sloped into her bottom, the curve of her breasts, the incline of her neck…she was perfect. Oh, she was always beautiful, but watching her from this distance added something intangible. From her window, she was untouchable, flawless.
As she began applying her moisturiser, he imagined that it was his hands that were massaging her skin. He could almost feel how soft and warm she was. How her supple muscles would flex and relax under the work of his fingers. How she would murmur and gasp at his touch.
His cock began to stir and he unzipped his trousers to take hold of it, unhurriedly stroking and feeling it swell as he watched her.
He hadn’t yet worked out if she knew he could see her. Her actions were always so sensual, but strangely innocent. It was like he was peeking into the private time that she spent with her body, and he loved that he had seen it. He loved enjoying her body as she saw it, without display or self-consciousness.
Her skin prickled as she imagined his eyes on her, watching her. She couldn’t help but smile as she pretended that he was there with her. Where would he touch her? What would he do?
Her hands slid around to start caressing her breasts. With her index finger, she pressed her nipple and gave it a small flick, sending a bolt of lust straight into her centre. Oh… Pinching it, she rolled her nipple between her fingers. Oh, oh yes…
But could he see that from there? Her insides were melting with lust, but her touch wasn’t enough. She wanted to show herself off for him, she needed to imagine he could see. She shuffled further back on the bed, lifting up her legs and ensuring she was positioned right in the middle, right in his view. Just in case he was there.
Lying back now against the headboard, she moved her hands lower, down into the warmth between them. She trembled as she discovered how slick and wet she was. She arched her back and moaned as the slightest pressure on her clit flooded her with heat. Her hips jerked as she thrust her fingers deep inside her, her feet creating thick wrinkles in the sheets as she drew them up towards her. She grasped the top of the headboard above her as she pushed herself closer and closer to the edge.
She hoped he was there, she hoped he could see her. Oh God, she hoped he was watching.
Watching her respond to her own touch in this way was like nothing he had ever seen before. This was new, and damn it was hot! He felt like he was on fire and his desire might completely engulf him. He wished he could hear the moans that he could see, wished he could hear the breathless panting he knew she was making. More than anything, he wished he had thought to stash binoculars in his desk! The distance was usually intoxicating but now it was a barrier that was holding him back.
He couldn’t see her hands clearly. He couldn’t see what she was doing. He couldn’t touch her. He couldn’t bear it any more…
Her eyes widened in surprise as he opened the door.
‘I didn’t know you were home already.’
He strode across the room and lifted her into his arms. Her skin was as soft as he’d imagined it to be and, as she wrapped her arms around him, her delicate smell washed over him, making him dizzy with need.
‘I’ve been doing some work in my study. I hadn’t wanted to disturb you but, for some reason, I thought that you wouldn’t mind…’
0 thoughts on “Watching…”
I loved the alternating points of view! It really built up the tension before they come together in the end. Sexy, sexy, understated (in a way that really worked for me) piece.
What a great piece of writing, seeing both their views, their thoughts, their feelings. Beautiful!
I love this, it really tapped into my love of being both the voyeur and exhibitionist