The Voyeur in the Room

You want me to watch you having kinky sex?

I like creating stories about women exploring kinky sexy for the first time. The idea of seeing something private and then receiving an invitation to watch is enticing. And there’s always the next step…

Gail is thirty something and divorced when she moves into her new house. Life is boring and then she gets a very kinky invitation from her neighbours.

The Voyeur in the Room

I watched the removal truck trundle back down the road and turned to look at the boxes piled in my new home. How could one woman accumulate so much and lose a husband, all in thirty-six years? I suppose the first thing to do is to find the kettle and the dildo, since I was now officially single.

I stopped, there was an unfamiliar ringing in my ears, it was a few seconds before I realised it was the doorbell. Visitors, already, no one knows I am here. Opening the door revealed a blonde woman about my age and carrying a large bag. Her shoulder length hair curled down the sides of her perfectly proportioned face and the most piercing blue eyes I had ever seen twinkled at me.

“Hi,” she smiled. “I’m Sandra. Matt and I live next door.”

“Gail.” I tried to smile back but there really was a lot to do.

“ I brought you this.” She held the bag open.

I looked down and could not help noticing her cleavage beneath the thin pink blouse. I mean, I’m not frumpy, decent pair of boobs and a cute-ish ass, even if my ex did leave it for a younger model, but she was, well - stacked was the only word I could think of.

Inside the bag was a kettle, mugs, packets of tea and coffee and a tin.

“I know what it’s like when you first move in. They’re our spares so just drop them back when you find yours,” She handed me the bag. “Oh, and there’s cake in the tin.”

“You’re a godsend.” This time my smile was genuine. “Come in and I’ll put your kettle on - the unpacking can wait a while.”

As she walked up the hall I noticed her ass flex beneath sky-blue jeans that matched her eyes and looked as if they had been sprayed on. This woman was fit, she must work out every day. I silently promised myself I find the nearest gym, just as soon as the unpacking was done.

A week later, having spoken to Sandra almost every day and met her husband Matt who, incidentally was the male version of her, tall muscular and very hot, most of the unpacking was done. Carrying one of the last boxes up the stairs to dump in the spare room I paused on the landing. There were no curtains on that window yet and I realised I was looking straight down into the window of Sandra and Matt’s garage. The light was on. There was someone bent over in the middle of the floor wearing a short nightdress. I could not see her face but guessed from the tanned legs that it was Sandra. A male figure wearing jeans and a check shirt, which I assumed was Matt swept past the window and seemed to swing a violent blow at the woman. Her body jerked in spasm. She must have screamed when it landed but I could hear nothing through the glass.

Jesus, I thought, he is beating her up. My mind whirled. What to do? Call the police? They would probably take ages to get here and then not believe me. “Action Gail action,” I muttered to myself as I almost fell down the stairs and out of the front door. I was halfway across their drive when I realised I was still wearing my fluffy slippers. I leaned on their doorbell. Nothing happened for what seemed like several minutes and I was just about to ring again when Matt opened the door.

‘Hi Gail,” he said calmly.

“I need to speak to Sandra.” I barked.

She appeared behind Matt wrapped in a pink dressing gown.

“You OK? I looked at her over his shoulder.

“Yes, fine. What’s the matter, Gail?”

“Look - I saw - in the garage.” The words did not seem to want to form a coherent sentence.

Sandra blushed. Her cheeks turned bright pink and she brought her fingertips up to her lips as if to hide a smile. “It’s our playroom,” she giggled. “Sorry, we didn’t realise you could see in there.”

“Playroom?” My mind was telling me there were not coloured balls or a train set in there.

“Yes,” she glanced at Matt and smiled, “We like things a little bit kinky.” She stepped back. “Would you like to see?”

“Err, no, not now.” It was my turn to blush. “Sorry.” I turned to go and nearly tripped over my slippers.

Back on the landing, I looked down into the garage. Sandra was slipping off her dressing gown and bending forward over a wooden frame which, oddly, now seemed to be closer to the window than it had been before. Matt appeared, he had shed the jeans and shirt and I could only see his torso down to mid-thigh, but that was enough. That guy had muscles, but that was not the main attraction and what made Sandra a lucky girl, that was standing out in front of him like a tent pole.

The sight stimulated a tingling between my legs and I was reminded that I had not had a good fucking for a while, well actually, any sort of a fucking and I still had not found the dildo. My fingers pressed against the coarse material of my jeans and, as Matt moved closer to Sandra, I slid my zipper down and my fingers slipped inside my panties.

The sight in the garage reminded me of one of those Victorian steam engines. Matt was pumping his piston into Sandra whose butt was gyrating like a flywheel. My own fingers found their target and mimicked the circular motion. I think we all came in synchronisation.

Breathing heavily I leant against the cool glass of the window, my hand still down the front of my jeans and watched as Sandra slipped off Matt’s cock. There was a flash of her wonderful, heavy, round breasts as she stood close to the garage window and looked directly up at me. I gasped, she seemed to be smiling, but then she was gone.

The next day I was sitting in the kitchen with a coffee wondering how I could have been such an idiot when the doorbell rang. Sandra was standing there with another of her wonderful cakes.

“Look, I’m sorry. About last night…” I said, shuffling my feet like a naughty schoolgirl.

“Don’t be,” she reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s nice to know someone is looking out for me.” She swept past me into the kitchen. “Besides,” she paused and looked coyly at me. “Matt and I decided it was quite a turn on having someone watch us.” She put the cake down on the worktop. “Where can you see us from?”

“The landing window. Sorry, there’s no curtains yet and…” I looked at my feet.

“Show me.”

Sandra peered through the window. “It’s not a very good view is it.” She turned and her fingers rested on my hand. “We could always offer you a better view.”

“A better view?” I was aware I was sounding like a parrot.

“Yes, in the room.” She looked down. “If you think that might be a turn on for you.” She smiled. “It certainly would be for us.”

“You want me to watch you have sex?”

“And the…” she looked at her fingernails, “…the foreplay.” She looked up at me from under her eyelashes. “Watch me receiving some discipline.”

“Just watch?”

“Whatever you want.” She leant toward me and put her hand on my arm. The button on her blouse seemed to be straining against the thin material in an effort to contain the weight of her breasts.

“Are you inviting me to..?” I could not work out exactly what she was inviting me to.

Matt is my dom and I am submissive to him.” Her lips parted and I could smell her flowery perfume as she smiled. “Within certain rules we have set.”

“So?” I wondered if she could hear my brain whirring - this was so far out of my usual sex life - not that I had a usual sex life. Thirteen years of faithful marriage, well on my part anyway, with mostly missionary position sex, meant that my sexual experience consisted of four, no five men, one woman and a few gropes in my teens and twenties, oh and of course, the faithful dildo. “Rules?” was all I could think to say.

“One of the rules is that he can fuck another woman, but only if I am there. So, if you want to join in either with the discipline or the fucking I’m fine with it.”

I shook my head, not to say no, but to try and shut up the little voice in my head that was screaming, go on, you’re a single woman now and this woman has just said it’s OK to fuck her gorgeous husband, do something kinky before you’re too old.

Sandra took a step back when I shook my head but I reached out and held her hand. “Yes - I mean I’ll come and watch,” I said, not really knowing what I meant. ”When?”

Sandra moved closer, her hand touched the back of my head and her lips brushed against mine. “How about tonight?”

That evening, just as the sun is starting to dip behind the houses opposite, I am stood in front of my wardrobe. What does one wear when your neighbours have invited you to watch them have kinky sex? Nothing? Well, maybe later, but I’ve still got to walk to their front door so a pair of very skimpy black knickers and a short, dark blue dress that shows off my cleavage, although there is slightly less of that tonight as I’ve left the bra off. My high heels click on the paving stones as I strut next door looking confident, but with my stomach doing somersaults inside me, and ring the doorbell.

Sandra opens the door wearing a black satin dressing gown. I can see the peaks of her nipples through the thin material. She glances over my shoulder, probably checking if any of the other neighbours are seeing what I am, smiles nervously and ushers me inside.

The door clicks closed and she pushes the gown off her shoulders. It ripples down her body and forms a black puddle on the floor. She is stunning, two large globes of breasts topped by nipples that already look as hard as nuts. Her flat stomach leads down to a smoothly shaved pubis between long muscular legs. Her whole body is tanned the colour of toffee and there are no tan lines. The sight of her makes my confidence falter a little and I am glad I am still dressed.

She leans forward and kisses me lightly on the lips. “Thank you,” she whispers, “this way.”

I am stunned into inaction by the sight of her behind. God, you could bounce tennis balls off those muscular cheeks and they would probably end up in France

Sandra pauses at the connecting door to the garage, sorry playroom, one hand on the door frame level with her face, chin raised, blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and her leg bent, her foot pointed onto tiptoe in a typical model girl pose. I can feel my blood pumping into my nipples and a tingling between my legs and there is no sign of Matt yet.

Matt, wearing jeans and a black shirt, is sat in an armchair in the playroom. He leaps to his feet, touches my hand and kisses me lightly on the cheek. “Gail, thank you for coming. Would you like a drink?” He indicates the second chair.

“White wine please.” I sit down, the leather of the old fashioned chair feels smooth against my thighs and I look around the room.

The garage doors have been bricked up, the walls are painted white and there is a wooden floor. At one end there is a black painted wooden cross forming a dark X against the wall. On one side wall hangs a variety of whips, canes and leather straps and below them is a large wheeled toolbox. A sawhorse stands in the middle of the room. It does not look much like a dungeon, take out the cross and the whips and it could be a very clean workshop. I look through the window, it is dark outside but I can just make out the shadow of my house. Presumably, no one else can see in.

Sandra appears carrying a tray with two glasses of wine and some snacks which she places on the coffee table between us. I almost giggle, this is just like any other drinks invitation I have been to, except that his wife is stark naked.

Matt looks at me a little sheepishly. “ I have a confession to make.” He picks up his wine glass and takes a gulp. “This is the first time we have done anything like this. I mean we have been into spanking and what you might call kinky sex since before we were married.” He takes another gulp of wine. “We’ve even done some things in public, where other people might see us, but this is the first time we have invited anyone to watch.”

I flash a look at Sandra who is standing off to one side.

“May I, Sir?” she looks at Matt.

He nods.

“What I said to you was true. If you want to join in that’s fine. If you just want to watch that will be great as well.” She smiled and seemed to relax a little. “We’ll just see how it goes.”

Something was giving me the impression that it was Sandra who was calling the shots even though she claimed to be the submissive. I looked at Matt and wondered if he knew he was just along for the ride or, maybe rides.

Sandra picked up a remote from the coffee table, pressed a button and the lights dimmed. Matt took this as his cue to stand up and move close to Sandra. He ran one finger down her breast until it circled her nipple. She was close enough to me for me to smell the musky scent of her excitement although, for a moment I wondered if it was mine.

Matt walked over to the toolbox and took out something attached to a thin chain. As he walked back I noticed there was already a conspicuous bulge in the front of his jeans. He ran his finger around Sandra’s nipple again and then pinched it between thumb and forefinger.

Sandra lifted her head back and her lips formed a circle as she gasped.

Matt fixed a small silver clamp to the erect teat. This time Sandra moaned, her back arched and her knees seemed to buckle for a moment. Delicately Matt attached the second clamp to Sandra’s left nipple so that the chain hung between her breasts like a piece of kinky jewellery.

I glanced down and saw what I knew I would. My own nipples were pushing hard against the thin material of my dress. The urge to rub and pinch them, to mimic the sensations that Sandra was obviously feeling, was overwhelming but something was holding me back.

Matt tugged on the chain, stretching Sandra’s nipples out from her breasts pulled her over to the sawhorse. As they turned away, I could not resist bringing my fingers up to tease my own nipples, rubbing the silky material of my dress over the buds. Tiny charges seemed to spark from the teats and pulse down through my body. I knew where they were heading and sensed that things were already heating up between my legs.

Obediently, Sandra bent over the sawhorse. They had arranged it so she was side on to me. Matt slipped off his shirt and jeans and his cock sprang out in front of him. He selected a leather strap from the display on the wall and stood at the far side of Sandra, his hard-on facing straight toward me. It was like looking down the barrel of a canon.

His muscles flexed as he swung the leather strap down onto Sandra’s behind. There was a muted crack and Sandra’s body tensed as the leather wrapped itself around her. Matt applied the strap again and again. The cracks became louder and the flesh of Sandra’s cheeks began to flex with the impacts. She hissed in a sharp breath every time the strop landed and I could see her flesh reddening.

I glanced down again and was surprised to see that my fingers seemed to have acquired a life of their own. I had pushed the straps of my dress down so that fingers could press against my naked flesh. My dress was hitched up and the fingers of my right hand were tugging at the thin strap of my knickers.

Sandra howled as Matt delivered a particularly vicious blow spurring me to push my fingers inside me. I had never felt myself so wet, it was almost as if my entire pussy had turned to liquid. I shrieked as my fingers slid out and up to my clit. The charges that had been flowing down my body now seemed to surge back up to my mind.

Matt dropped the strop and moved behind Sandra, his cock disappearing into her in one smooth motion. Sandra reared up, every muscle tensed. “Oh fuck.” she wailed, stretching the words out into a scream that echoed off the walls.

Matt reached around her and freed the nipple clamps. Sandra wailed again as the blood surged back into her nipples and she thrust herself against him.

My vision blurred as I tried to keep watching them but my entire being seemed to focus on my body. Sparks flashed in front of my eyes as the world closed in around me.

When I opened my eyes I had one leg over each arm of the chair and could feel my fingers circling my sex, just beginning to stir the second wave. Matt turned to look at me, he was still fucking Sandra but now he was pushing into her slowly and rhythmically. He grasped Sandra’s hair and pulled her upright and his cock slid out of her.

“Would you like some help with that?” He pushed Sandra toward me.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded.

Sandra knelt on all fours between my legs. Before I could say anything her tongue was sliding into me. Matt knelt behind her and slid into her, pushing her hard against me.

Now, when I woman sucks a woman they tend to hit all the right spots. Let’s face it, they’ve got the same equipment and Sandra was definitely hitting the right notes. Add to that, Matt banging into her which was shoving her hard against me and my mind erupted for the second time. The orgasm was so intense I almost lost consciousness but, through the mists, I could hear myself screaming, Matt grunting as he poured into Sandra, who was making a cacophony of slurping and wailing sounds muffled only by my pussy.

“Did you plan that.? Have I just been seduced by a woman for the first time in my life? Sandra and I are sat in my kitchen the morning after, both still grinning contentedly. Her hand is resting on my thigh and her gentle touch is making my skin tingle. “Well, not quite the first time, but the first time for about fifteen years.”

Sandra’s eyes twinkle over the top of her coffee mug as she takes a sip, despite her face being hidden by the mug I can tell she is smiling.

“Does Matt know? Was he part of the plan?

“He had no idea.” Her fingers slide a little higher up my thigh.

“Don’t get me wrong, last night was fantastic but getting fucked by your gorgeous husband wasn’t on the menu?”

“Oh, it’s on the menu.” She put the coffee mug down on the kitchen top. “In fact, it’s the dish of the day, but now it’s going to be by two women who will be fucking each other as well.”

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