Mr. Peeping Tom. Sexy Pervert!
Ever since I moved into my new condo there was always something strange going on with the unit across the way from me. It seemed that I could never see into the windows, even in broad daylight with the curtains thrown wide. I only knew it belonged to a black man in his late 50’s. You’d think a man in his prime, leaving the curtains open would be putting on a nightly show for me! Strutting his sexy stuff from the bathroom to the bedroom at least. Flash me a little cock, or balls, bend the fuck over, and flash that asshole, Baby! I started to feel like a Mr. Peeping Tom. A Sexy Pervert. What was it about this man that possessed me so? It was like every day was Hump Day Dump Day! LOL.
Well, first off, I could never see in there. No matter the time of day, or night. I got nada! No shadows, no lights. Hello? Is anyone actually living over there? I couldn’t see him, but I sensed him. And, I knew for a fact that he could see into my unit. I never bothered with curtains or blinds of any kind. Why bother? I live on the beach! So, I figured a way to lure that perverted bastard out of his lair. A show! No, silly! Not theater tickets. Tickets to the Greatest Show on Earth! Stay with me! Do I look like I belong with Barnum or Bailey? LOL
I set the stage by making a few calls to various lovers, inviting each to cum over on a different night this week. Tonight, I lit the candles both inside my home and out on my sun deck. I Lit the fireplaces in both the living room and the master’s suite. No other lighting was on, but you could see inside into the most smokey, sexy lighting ever. I ran the shower (also visible from his side windows), pinned my waist-length hair atop my head, and stripped, slowly, out of my silk shortie robe.
Stepping into the tall glass shower, I took great pains to move with deliberation, dipping my hair back under the spout, letting the sprays of water pool momentarily just at my nipples, before spilling over and down my stomach. I soaped just as slowly, knowing; knowing he was watching. I washed everything. Sudzing over my nipples and between my legs. Slowly. I washed inside my pussy with soap, inside my tight little asshole, slipping a soapy finger deep inside. I knew if he was there and watching, he was beating that meat to the vision before him.
After my shower, I patted the water from my body, leaving a sheet of water as I applied a scented oil all over. I must have looked like a pro-body-builder with all that oil shining off my perfectly smooth skin, slid my thigh highs up and into place just as I heard the doorbell. Then, I glided toward it while removing the clip from my still damp and wavy hair, sending it cascading down my back. I was wearing a garter belt, thigh-highs, and expensive pumps. Smelling the hand-made perfume my father has made for me every year for my birthday, I sighed.
Just a spritz as I sauntered through it was all the scent I needed. It mixed well with the faint smell of pineapple cumming from between my legs. EVERYONE who knows me KNOWS I eat a whole, fresh pineapple every day to ensure my pussy’s fragrance and sweetness.
I opened one of the double doors at the front of my place, an elbow leaned against the opening, robe falling open. Just. So. I was looking down as I opened it, allowing me to cast a slow seductive, long-lashed glance up at him as I bit down on my bottom lip and gave just the hint of a smile, with my lips. My eyes? Oh. My eyes were totally smiling as I reached out for his necktie and pulled him slowly over the threshold. Into my home, into my mouth in a carnal kiss. My tongue tangled around his, wetting more than my lips as we stumbled backward over the back of the sofa and grappled like teens.
He lowered his lips to my scented pussy and began to lap, driving me over and over to delectable climax. My fingers tangled in his hair as his hands stroked and manipulated my taught nipples. I could feel the neighbor, Mr. Pepping Tom. I could feel every stroke up his shaft and over his head watching me being devoured. My lover flipped me over gently and entered me from behind. And, when I say behind. I mean BEHIND! He fucked me so deeply in my ass that I’m certain my low moans were heard throughout the complex. And for just a moment, there was a quick flash of light and I swore I saw the shadowed side of a face. I smiled.
Then, in the orange-glow flicker of the fireplace, my tits swayed forward and back as I leaned over the sofa back. Furthermore, I could hear the sweet splash of wet pussy being pumped. Then, my clit was being pulled and I was writhing and wriggling against him; my ass slapping his stomach, his balls massaging my swollen clit. He bent his knees and with each push, lifted me off the floor with his cock before switching to my pussy for some additional fucking. I then used my strap on him, pumping deep in his ass, massaging his prostate, and making him pour cum enough to gag on.
Then, I played Mistress to his willing slave and had him worship my small, soft, feet with his tongue. Finally, we heard a loud crash that sounded like tons of breaking crystal. Moreover, we laughed as we continued to fuck. Why laughter? Because we knew that in his watching, and very likely beating off, he’d knocked something big, and probably expensive over. But, that served him right. Perv!
But, if this was the beginning, he’ll be begging for a front-row seat to my pussy by the end of the week. So, I have lined up, my Big Black Cock, my barely legal teen boy-toy, my Daddy/daughter routine with my professor, my father, and my son from the condo further down the beach. But, if that fucking perv neighbor lives that long, I have planned a gang bang to end ALL gang bangs for Sinful Sunday. Maybe I’ll even knock and invite him over for it. Heehee
So, you wanna find out how this week plays out with some teen phone sex? Maybe you want to know whether I let him finger my sweet little pussy, or tie me and gag me? Well, If you’re really good, I may tell you every hot story of each encounter…
888-553-5493
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Mostly… LOL!
