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From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com
Subject: {DeidreNg}JDR"As I've Seen"( MF voy )[1/1]
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JOHN DARK REPOST
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
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that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author
make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other
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The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming
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These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of
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=====================
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the story.
Ng sister stories are available on their website,
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/LeftBank/6979
=====================
As I've Seen
by Deidre Ng
<deidreng@aol.com>
Dear Tammy,
Thank you for your last note, for _everything_ you wrote. It's
strange how an incident can gain such importance for one person, yet
another barely remembers what happened. I do remember that day, getting
frisky with my boyfriend up in our bedroom, going down on him. At the time
I remember being scared/excited about taking the risk of blowing him in our
house. I don't think either of us ever noticed that you caught a glimpse
of our fun. I'm sorry if you felt hurt, but it sounds like you felt more
hot than hurt!
One day I was eating lunch at the South Street Seaport, Pier 17. I
had a table on the third floor, in the big open area at the end of the
pier. I was on the north side, right against the glass wall of the
building. I sat there because I love the view of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Little did I know there was another view to be had from that seat. If you
looked down, you saw into a stairwell on the outside of the building, which
apparently was something of a lovers lane. That day I happened to look
down, because I dropped my soda straw. I looked under the table to
retreive it and out the window caught two lovers in the act.
They were both Wall Street types, suits and such. She had a brown
overcoat (it was March), and underneath what looked like a standard Evan
Picone corporate ensemble. Short brown hair, kinda perky, a few freckles
and a big wide mouth with lots of teeth when she smiled. He was your
typical GQ wannabe. When I looked down, Mr. Wannabe had his hand inside
her suit, squeezing her breast through the crisp white blouse she was
wearing. They were kissing, kisses landing all over each others face and
neck and ears.
After a particularly long, deep kiss the GQ'er whispered something in
her ear. She looked around, over the railing, downward (but not up!).
Then she picked up her leg and planted her foot on the lowest crossbar of
the railing. As she did, her knee length skirt rode up her thigh. She was
wearing white stockings. They were only thigh high! She flipped her
overcoat over her exposed leg. GQer's hand dropped out of sight under her
dress.
I found that I couldn't stop looking. I leaned against the glass
wall, sipping my soda, eyes down. I wondered if she was wearing panties.
I wondered if anyone else was watching them. I wondered if anyone was
watching me.
For a few moments nothing happened, or seemed to happen. They kissed,
lips swiftly opening and closing on each other. Then just as the came
together in a kiss, the woman's face flowered into a huge smile. I
imagined that either he had conquered some impediment to touching her, or
had quit teasing her and decided to pleasure her in earnest. From then on
they stopped kissing. Their faces hovered close to each other, I'm sure
they could feel each others breath.
I could follow the progress of her lovers hand by the expression on
her face. That and the knowlege of exactly how it would feel, how it did
feel, to stand with one leg out and have your lover's hand move, carress,
plunge and tease.
She smiled. Her eyes closed. She said something, and the tip of her
tongue ran around her lips. She shifted her stance slightly and bit her
lip. The smile never left her face. All of a sudden she gasped, her back
arched and then relaxed. Had he just penetrated her? Had he just exposed
her clit, touching it directly for the first time? I couldn't tell. My
own pussy was wet, that I knew, wet through to my panties already. I could
feel myself throbbing, and each twitch of her face I found myself copying.
I jumped a little when she gasped, and as her mouth fell open, so did mine.
The only difference was that her eyes were closed and mine were wide open.
Her legs were open and mine were shut, and I was squeezing my thighs
together as I watched.
He brought his hand out of her skirt, and waved his fingers under her
nose. She caught the middle one in her mouth, licked it, sucked it, tasted
whatever scent it carried of her own pussy. She made it drip with her
saliva and he took it back, making it disappear between her legs. Her face
was a mask of anticipation. I knew he had found his place again, wetter
now, slicker now. Her head began to tilt back, but her jaw held still, and
her mouth opened wider and wider. Her back arched, she was looking
straight up. If she hadn't been blinded by the sun and passion, she would
have seen me, watching her ratchet closer and closer to her climax.
She was trembling. Her whole jaw was taut. Just her lower lip was
quivering, pulling tighter and tighter. I knew she must be feeling the
aura of her climax approaching, the premonition of ecstasy. Her hips
wanted to thrust, she wanted to throw her legs open, but given her standing
position, she could only satisfy that need by slowly rotating her hips
around the axis of his hand.
Suddenly she pitched forward, her face landing on his shoulder. A
look that could be mistaken for pain flickered across her features,
mistaken perhaps if you didn't know what an orgasm felt like. She lay her
head on his shoulder as her whole body twitched for a while longer. I
thought I saw little tears collect in the corner of her eye. My own pussy
was drenched, tight, pulsing, I could feel my pusle in my throat, my
nipples pushing hard against my bra.
She pulled the hair out of her face. He wriggled his hand free, which
gave her a few aftershocks. My pussy thudded as her lip curled in
pleasure. She brought her leg down and smoothed out her skirt, the
evidence of thigh high hose and no panties disappearing under the plain
corporate exterior. He brought his hand up to her lips again and she
kissed his finger and then their tongues were meeting as he held his finger
between their mouths, and they both licked up her juices. Then they went
away.
I got up and staggered back to the office. They could have worked in
my building, or any of a hundred buildings in lower Manhattan. Riding the
elevator back to my floor, I was sure everyone could smell my pussy. I
ducked into the bathroom. In a stall, I stripped off my panties and
nylons. I really wanted to touch myself, but I decided to wait til I got
home. I hid my bare legs under my desk the whole afternoon.
About four o'clock, my boyfriend called. At first it was just details
of everyday life, who's going to the cleaners, who's going to the store.
The conversation started to drift, until I heard him ask quite casually,
"Oh, and would you like me to fuck you when you get home this evening?" My
mouth went dry as my pussy went wet. "Sure, sure," I said, "that sounds
good, look, I've got to go, sorry to cut you off, but three people are
hovering over me waiting for things I'm supposed to be finished with. Bye".
I hung up. My secretary cocked her eyebrow at me.
I knew he'd be home, waiting for me.
I stopped and looked at myself in the mirror as I stepped off the
elevator. Our apartment door was open a crack, the light inside spilling
into the hallway. It creaked open and I slipped inside, leaning back on it
to push it closed. He was sitting at the kitchen table, writing in the
checkbook. Leaning against the door, still facing him, I reached over my
shoulder and turned the latch, then crooked my finger and beckoned him,
smiling.
We stood there, kissing. He was a little tentative, he certainly
didn't know where I was coming from. As we kissed I lifted my skirt, and
holding it up, guided his hand underneath. I felt like a schoolgirl,
showing her first boyfriend where she needs him to touch her. His hand
fell on my mound of hair. I'm sure he was suprised to find nothing between
his fingers and me. He started rubbing my pussy hair, running his fingers
through it. We kissed harder, more passionately. His fingers slid around
my lips, massaging me from the outside. I moaned, guttural, and pressed
myself backward so that I could turn my legs out as much as I could.
He gave me his finger to suck. I knew he would split my lips open
with it, unfold me, reveal me. I gave him a good sucking, and waited for
his touch. He reached far under me. Starting from the back he parted my
cunt lips. As soon as he pressed them apart they spread open, his finger
dipped into my pussy, gathering more moisture. Sliding slowly forward,
lubricating as he went, I flowered at his touch. My clit practically leapt
to meet his finger when it finally arrived at the forward end of my slit.
My nipples throbbed as he worked around my clit with his finger, gently
stroking the shaft, applying the lightest touch to the head. I whimpered.
Very reluctantly, I pulled his hand away. I brought it back up to my
mouth. His finger was thick with my juice, my smell. I licked it up.
Then I put his three middle fingers in my mouth at once and sucked them,
rolled them with my tongue, made them heavy with my saliva. He knew what I
was getting at. Slipping them from my mouth, he moved them back down to my
cunt. Now his hand slid backward, over my clit, along my folds and
vallies, to the tender pink depths of my pussy. One by one his fingers
slipped inside me. I groaned, let go of my skirt and put my hands behind
my head. He pressed his fingers deeper, and I met his pressing with a
thrust of my hips. I felt a strong contraction in the walls of my pussy, a
wave of ecstasy spread out from between my legs.
He had needed the saliva just at first to penetrate me. Now my juice
was washing over him, I could hear the wet sounds of his fingers sliding in
and out as he fucked me with his hand. For leverage he put the base of his
palm just above my clit, in my pussy hair. As he pushed and pulled with
his fingers I felt the tug in my clit as well.
My hips were thrashing. I reached around his head to kiss him. Our
mouths met, but mine hung half open. I was rapidly approaching climax. He
pressed hard against the front wall of my pussy as his fingers slid wildly
in and out. My pussy pulsed around him and I came, jerking forward with
the same motion as I had seen done by the woman in the stairwell, earlier
that day. Maybe my face carried the same look.
He did fuck me, later. He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom
and lay me down on the bed, still in my business clothes. He put me on all
fours and lifted my skirt. I reached through my legs and felt his cock,
wet it with my spit and guided it in. It felt very erotic, getting fucked
in my clothes. From behind he gets so deep, deeper than any other
position. We got moving together and he fingered my ass, til I exploded.
He came with me, gasping and crying from the force of it. We rested with
him deep inside me, his cock twitching as the last threads of cum spilled
out.
So, you see I've had my own voyeuristic experience. I wish I could
meet that woman, and thank her.
=====================
As I've Seen
by Deidre Ng
-30-
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