Which is why the surprise party he gave me for my thirtieth birthday wasn’t much of a surprise at all. However, I wasn’t expecting my baby sister, Brianna, to fly in from college in Connecticut. I was overwhelmed that Leonard was thoughtful enough to purchase her plane ticket.
So there we were, surrounded by about forty friends, feasting on the buffet prepared by the caterer my husband hired for the event and sipping on champagne out of fine crystal goblets, when my adventure started.
I was opening my presents, and most of them were way too extravagant to ever actually use. I came to a long box wrapped in gold paper with a huge red bow. After reading the card, I realized it was from Brianna. I opened it and was tickled pink to discover a large telescope inside. I gave her a huge embrace and kiss on the cheek. The gift was very special to me, not only because it was from my sister, but because I had wanted a telescope ever since I was a little girl. As I grew older, I felt it was kind of silly to go out and purchase one. I was thrilled and utterly delighted to receive one as a gift.
One of Leonard’s associates from the firm set the telescope up by the balcony doors while the party was still going on. Several of us took turns looking up at the stars.
All the guests finally cleared out about two. The caterer and his staff cleaned up and cleared out about half an hour later. Brianna went straight to bed in the guest bedroom, still suffering from a bit of jet lag. Leonard carried me to our bedroom, where he made love to me on crisp white sheets covered with rose petals.
After all the excitement and the lovemaking, I should have been exhausted, but I couldn’t fall asleep for anything. I left Leonard fast asleep and decided to finish a bottle of opened Moët and look at the stars some more through my favorite new possession. It was almost five.
I am not sure what drew my attention to his bedroom window. Maybe it was the fact not many people had lights on in their apartments at that time of the morning. However, it was more likely the fact that he was directly across from me, fucking the hell out this sista.
I know I should have pointed the telescope elsewhere or, better yet, gone back in the bedroom and fallen asleep in my husband’s arms. I couldn’t do that, because I was enthralled by the way he was fucking her.
At first, I couldn’t see his face because it was buried in between her breasts. I remember thinking that she had the biggest breasts I had ever seen. She had to be sporting at least a DDD bra, putting my little B-cup tits to shame.
As for him, he had the most scrumptious ass. I zoomed in on his ass so I could see the muscles contracting while he pumped his dick in and out her pussy. My own pussy was so wet. I started fingering it with one hand while I used the other one to keep the telescope steady.
When he came, so did I. It looked like he was having convulsions. I was so turned on. Cum exploded from me, down the center of my thighs, and onto the carpet. I hurried to the hallway bathroom to get a soapy towel to blot it up with. I looked back through the telescope when I was done. They were both lying there, fast asleep.
I was halfway disappointed and then ashamed. What had I done? I felt like such a peeping tom. I went back to bed and fell into a deep sleep, rehashing what I had just witnessed in my dreams.
Ashamed or not, I started watching him every chance I got, day or night. Anytime when Leonard wasn’t home. I was totally mesmerized by him, because he was so intriguing. It wasn’t that he was so much fine as he was sexy. Sexiness is the way a man carries himself, the energy and charisma that exudes from him. He was about five-foot-nine, light-skinned, with dark brown eyes and wavy black hair. He had a stocky build.
Roscoe, on the other hand, has always been beautiful to me. That is the pet name I gave his dick. It was long, thick and smooth. I watched Roscoe tear up some pussy during those six months. I even watched him tear up some ass from time to time. I watched Roscoe being sucked and caressed and licked all over. That Roscoe had some serious staying power. He never seemed to lie down for long.
Roscoe’s owner was heavily dating two women, the one with the big tits and another woman who was more on the petite side, like myself. I watched him parade them in and out of his place on a regular basis. He was a typical bachelor.
My desire for him grew stronger as each day went by, my pussy juices flowing for a man who knew absolutely nothing about me. I withdrew from Leonard sexually a little bit. Not because he did anything wrong, but because I craved for this stranger in the worst way. This continued for six whole months, and then fate intervened.
I stayed late at the bank one night for a meeting. I was about to make the right turn into the underground garage of my building when I saw him approaching from the opposite direction in a black Lexus coupe. He turned into the garage of his building across the street. In that one split second, any fear and apprehension I had disappeared, and body heat took over. I cut across three lanes of traffic, almost getting sideswiped by a truck, and entered into his garage. My front wheels hit the speed bump at the entrance too fast and made me bounce up out of my seat.
After finding a visitor’s spot, I jumped out of my car and walked hastily through the parking lot, looking for his car. I found it empty, three rows over. I anxiously walked toward the elevator and got there just as the doors were closing. I thought to myself that it was a sign to take my ass home, but while my mind was telling me no, my pussy was telling me yes. I pushed the button for the elevator and waited for it to come back down, looking up and watching the lights for the individual floors go on and off as if that would make it get there any faster.
When I got off the elevator on the ninth floor, I heard a door shut and headed in the direction from whence it came. I managed to figure out which door was his quite easily. I had watched his ass enough. But once I discovered he lived in apartment #913, I was a nervous wreck all of a sudden. I heard some jazz music come on from inside and leaned against the door, breathing heavy and rubbing my fingertips up and down the cool exterior. I was startled by some voices coming down the hall from the direction of the elevator. I started walking up and down the hallway, pretending like I was trying to locate a particular apartment. There was an older couple carrying their groceries in and chatting about their day.
They went into their apartment about six doors down and across the hall from his. At that point, I knew that I was being totally ridiculous. There I stood, a happily married woman, lurking outside a stranger’s apartment. I decided to get the hell out of there, go home, cook dinner, and fuck the living daylights out of my husband. I pushed the button for the elevator, got on it when it arrived, and pushed the button for the garage level. But as the doors were closing, I reached my hand out to block them from shutting completely and stood there dazed and confused.
I wanted him, I really did. It was then or never; in a million years, I wouldn’t have the nerve to do that shit again. I marched straight down the hallway to his door and knocked. The music was still on, so I knocked harder, practically banging on the door. I heard the music being turned down and a man’s voice saying, “Who’s there?”
I froze. That was my first encounter with his voice, and I realized I was really doing something crazy. Yet it was sexy and uninhibited and erotic, and I
needed some real excitement in my life.
When he opened the door, he was wearing nothing but a robe, and he was wet. Obviously, he had just gotten out of the shower. I must have been out in the hallway longer than I thought if he had time to take a shower. There I was, standing five-two with a bronze complexion and long, jet-black hair in a white blouse, navy skirt, and navy leather shoes.
Before he could ask who I was or what I wanted, I put my index finger up to his lips and stepped into his living room. I moved my finger down from his lips, over his chin, down his chest and stomach to where his robe was tied and yanked it open, exposing Roscoe.
I dropped to my knees, took his nuts in my hand, and kissed the base of his dick. I couldn’t believe I was doing that shit, not me, but it felt so good. I took the head of his dick into my mouth. It was so warm, and I enjoyed taking him to the point of no return. I sucked some mad dick that night and sucked it good. His knees weakened, causing him to fall to the floor. I never missed a beat. I kept holding onto Roscoe and sucking for dear life. He was still on the floor when he exploded into my mouth. I swallowed every drop, lapping up any I may have missed the first go-round off his thighs.
I pushed my skirt up around my waist and straddled his body. I told him to rip my panties off, which he did, leaving only my thigh-high stockings and garter belt on my bottom. I let Roscoe slide into my wet pussy. I began to squeeze my pussy muscles onto him and dug my fingernails into his bare chest. We both moaned loudly, and I came for the first time.
Then I told him I wanted him to hit it from the back. I got up and bent over the back of his sofa. He got up from the floor and lifted my ass up so he could get to the pussy, making my feet dangle about five inches from the floor. There I was, bent over his sofa, letting Roscoe tear my pussy up from behind. He started fingering my ass, and I came again.
I guess he could tell that I was a three-input woman by my reaction to the fingers in my ass. So he did what came naturally, pulled Roscoe out my pussy, and slowly let him enter my ass. He fucked my ass royally and came so hard in it, I was on fire.
As I went to leave, he asked for my name, and I told him, “You don’t need to know that!” Then he asked if he would ever see me again, and I didn’t respond. I left my ripped panties there in the middle of his living room floor and left.