Wicked
neighbor could look out their window and possibly catch a glimpse of her lifting her dress.How exciting!
Soon, her panties were visible. But oh, she wanted more. She lifted her hips and pulled her panties down to her thighs, revealing her pussy. She was panting now, her pussy throbbing. She knew she would come fast once she touched it. But she was waiting. This was the naughty part, the wanton, forbidden, nasty part of herself that even Bobby hadn’t known about.
She slid her hand over her belly, bunching the skirt of her dress in her fist before forcing herself to relax. Her heart pounded, whether from excitement or the possibility of someone catching her in the act she wasn’t sure. Now she was past the point of caring. Let them come to the porch, line up, and watch. She wanted an audience.
“See me touch myself,” she whispered to the darkness. “Watch me make myself come.”
She reached between her legs, finding the curls damp, loving the silken softness of her own pubic hair. She toyed with the curls before moving farther down, knowing she had held back as long as she could. She lifted her hips and plunged two fingers inside her sopping-wet cunt, biting back the moan that escaped her lips as she drove her palm against her clit, undulating against the exquisite sensations that she knew would send her over the edge all too quickly.
“Fuck me,” she whispered to her imaginary lover. “Fuck me hard and fast.”
There, outside and in the darkness where anyone could potentially see her, she fucked her pussy with her fingers. The street was so quiet she could hear the sounds of her fingers thrusting in and out of her wet pussy, could hear the harsh intake of her breath, the moans she couldn’t quite hold back as she tormented herself with relentless strokes. Her palm slid back and forth over her swollen clit, making her lift her hips to meet her own hand.
“I’m going to come,” she whispered, eyes widening as the pulses shot through her. She gritted her teeth to hold back the screams, wave after wave of unbearable pleasure crashing over her. She gripped the arm of the chair and shook with violent tremors, burying her fingers in her cunt until the storm subsided.
When it was over, she withdrew her fingers, pulled up her panties, and smoothed her skirt over her thighs, looking out over the street and shaking her head.
She stayed in the chair and caught her breath, feeling like she’d just woken from some kind of bizarre dream. It was like she lost touch with reality. What if someone had come by? Would she have been able to stop? Or would she have sat there, her fingers buried in her pussy, continuing to strum her clit to orgasm?
Shaking off her thoughts, she rose and went inside, locked the door, and shut the curtains, hoping like hell no one had seen her deviant behavior.
“Honestly, Callie, what the hell is wrong with you?”
She was such a pervert.
* * *
Jack closed his briefcase and clicked off the light on his desk at his home office, then rubbed his tired eyes. What a goddamn long day. He glanced at the clock and rolled his eyes.
After eleven. He’d left work at eight tonight, come straight home after a short side trip to the fast-food drive-through, headed straight for his desk, and continued to work. God, he needed a few days off. A week or two would be even better. Making partner was supposed to be less grueling, not more. But the work continued to pile on with no apparent letup. Weren’t the grunts the ones who were supposed to put in these long hours? He stretched and leaned back in his chair, swiveling around to take a look at the swimming pool at the club across the street.
He’d been lucky to get this house. On the golf course, right near the clubhouse and pool. He smiled as he stared at the pool, remembering his invitation to Callie this morning. She’d looked so surprised, her warm amber eyes widening in shock. But why? Surely a woman as beautiful as she was deluged by offers. He was probably just one of a handful of men hitting on her.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t hitting on her, but he sure as hell liked stopping for coffee every morning and seeing her. Her soft, honeyed voice and welcoming smile were a calm in the storm of his life. And it didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous, either. Fashion model beautiful, with skin the color of light caramel, curly black hair, and those unusual, mesmerizing eyes. Most days he wanted to linger, to ask her to step around the counter and sit with him just so he could get to know her better. Instead, he was always in a rush, but those few minutes he spent talking to her were the best part of his day.
He knew they were flirting, noticed the way her gaze lingered on him when she thought he wasn’t looking. A guy couldn’t miss a beautiful woman watching him. If he hadn’t been so damned busy these past few months, he’d have asked her out sooner. She even moved outside the counter sometimes when he took the time to sit at one of the tables and read the paper before he headed into the office. She’d clean the tables and pick up a few things, giving him a chance to watch her.
She made his dick hard, with her curvy body and sweet, rounded ass. Even in her loose-fitting coffee shop uniform he could tell she had a body he wanted to get his hands on. A real body, not the waify, ghostly women that frequented his normal social circles. Callie was all woman, and he wanted her in the worst way. He just needed to take that first step by asking her out, like today by mentioning the invitation to the pool.
Actually, he still hadn’t asked her out.