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From: suenewhamp@aol.com (SueNewHamp)
Subject: Sue's 15th: Catty Corner 2/2 (mf, voy, exhib)
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NOTE: This story is, of course, for adults only --  so don't read it if you
don't think you can be mature about it. Reading and writing these stories
should be acts of fantasy, and I hope that you can keep your notions of real
and fantasy life separate in your mind. I know I can. If you would like to let
me know what you think, or if you have a follow-up fantasy (which is something
that I REALLY like), you can reach me at suenh@kear.tdsnet.com ... but I can't
promise to return your emails... I do have some other things to do in my real
life! 
**********************************

CATTY CORNER part 2 of 2
   By Sue

What did I want? I was so sexually keyed up, but getting together with this
stranger seemed too complex for so whatever time it was. And anyway, the theme
for this evening seemed to be voyeurism, so that should be the way that it
reached its conclusion. So I decided that we could give each other a show. I
put up my hand to let him know that he should stay put in his room. He looked
disappointed for a moment, until he saw my hands go to the front of my green
satin blouse. As I unbuttoned it and let it fall to the floor behind me, his
facial expression turned from apprehension to curiosity, and finally to
admiration, as my breasts came into view, wrapped by a sheer lace brassiere. I
hardly ever wear one, but for this evening of business, I thought it would be
better to avoid distracting the men with the sight of my nipples poking at the
front of my blouse. 

I flipped off my shoes, and then I unzipped the side of my skirt and let it
fall to my ankles, where I kicked it aside. I undid my braid, letting my long
blond hair come free and loose and kinky -- just the way that I felt at the
moment! My body took up a swaying, sensuous dance as I ran my hands up my
thighs, over my tummy, and onto my swelling breasts. I unsnapped the catch in
the center and let the filmy cups hang limply draped over my breasts, with the
material catching on the dark jutting nipples. With a shimmy of my shoulders,
my breasts came free completely, jiggling like bowls of jello. The bra slid off
of my shoulders and onto the floor, adding to the jumbled pile of clothes. Only
my panties were left, and before I stripped them off, I looked up to see how my
observer was doing. 

He had shed his robe, and was now standing completely naked except for a thin
gold chain and medal; probably a Saint Christopher, perfect for a traveler, but
not so good for a practicing Catholic staring out his hotel window at a
voluptuous naked woman dancing for his attention only a very few feet from his
similarly naked body. Right now, his fervor was not religious. It was
passionate, as was clear from the attitude and altitude of his cock, which was
now pointing well above the horizontal. It had a curved shape that made the
head of his cock point straight upwards, almost touching his belly button. Such
a deliciously young cock on his mature body. And it was still weaving and
dancing like an eel out of water. As I observed its meandering dance, he
reached down and grabbed it, starting an extremely slow stoking. I was so close
to him that I could see a couple of drops of clear precome squeeze out of the
tip from just the first pump. The viscous liquid smeared over the broad, purple
glans, reflecting all the atrium lights like silver glitter. 

As he continued his slow fondling of his 8 inch cock, I hooked my thumbs into
the waistband of my flowery satin panties and pulled them down to my knees.
Naturally, the crotch was sort of stuck into the set crease of my cunt, and I
had to pull it out before I could pull my feet up and out of the underwear. Now
I was completely exposed to this strangers view, and I wasted no time before
dipping one hand down to my crotch, diving a finger into the puffy wet folds of
my cunt. That first touch on my clitoris was almost an electric shock, making
my entire body shudder. My eyes were now glued to the sight of his cock being
pumped with a gradually accelerating pace, and I took the fingers of my other
hand to pull apart my outer labia and matted cunt hair, so that he could see
the glossy pink flesh of my inner cunt. I lifted one foot up onto the sill of
the window, which was almost two feet off the floor. Bending my knee away from
him spread my cunt area even more, so that I was totally open and revealed. I
used only one finger to play with my clitoris, curling the other up into my
palm they didn’t interfere with his view. I swiped back and forth over my hard
clit, occasionally dipping down into my vagina. Doing that made my inner lips
spread more so that he could see the jagged opening more easily. I wanted to
ensure that his view of my wanton masturbation was as unhampered as I could
make it. Judging be the mesmerized look on his face, and the red flush to his
skin, I obviously was having the desired effect on him.

...And myself too, for I was rapidly approaching my orgasm. Part of me wanted
to let my legs buckle so that I could lay back on the plush carpeting. And I
wanted to clench my eyes shut as the orgasm wracked over me. But povercoming
those desires was the devilish to watch the stranger have his orgasm before I
had mine. I slowed my finger as it flipped over my protruding clitoris, and
staring shamelessly at his cock and hand, I took note of his technique. He was
stoking up and down the shaft, squeezing hard on the down stroke and releasing
much of the pressure when his hand slid back toward the plum-colored glans. The
rim around the head was flared out away from the shaft, and his fingers bumped
against this pliant barrier, pressing the lip up towards his pisshole without
letting his index finger or thumb ever ride over the rim onto the come-streaked
glans. He seemed to take great pleasure from rubbing that distended rim, and
when I looked closer, I could see that it was covered with many dozens of teeny
little white nubs. I’d seen these on other men, but never as many, never so
pronounced. Maybe there are special nerve endings in these bumps, for he was
concentrating his efforts on swiping across this area more and more, applying a
sort of twist with his wrist at the peak of each stoke. And he took his other
hand and used it to start juggling his balls, which were hanging pendulously,
surrounded by lots of wrinkled flesh and gray hair. He was careful to massage
his balls from behind, so as not to hide them from my view. What a gentleman!
His fingers prodded into the scrotal sac from behind, pushing the veiled globes
forwards and upwards, toward me. I licked my lips lewdly as I watched,

HIs cock was harder and longer than ever, and the head was even fatter and
darker. Precome was dribbling out profusely, and he stopped milking at the
shaft and took the slimy head into his palm and started to knead and twist it.
He knew exactly what to do to bring his excitement to the most hedonistic and
ecstatic finish, and he was finally ready to explode. He again slid his hand
down onto the shaft of his cock, and he moved it up and down in tiny
increments, so fast that it was more like he was vibrating it that stroking it.
In fact his whole body started to quiver, eventually punctuating with an
explosion of semen that blasted out from the tip and flew across the narrow
space, smashing against the glass window pane. It hit the surface so hard that
it splattered in all directions, soon to be joined by another glob of gooey
come, and another. both his hands were pumping the liquid from deep in his
balls, up though the long stiff rod, and arcing through the air. It was an
enchanting sight to see the rivulets of semen dribbling down the glass, and
pooling on the metal sill. The grayish-white color matched his hair head and
body hair exactly. 

As the final act of his performance proceeded, I reinvigorated my own
manipulations of my clitoris, occasionally harvesting some lubrication that
seeped from my cunt. The aroma of the evaporating juices filled my nostrils
with the zesty fragrance. As his spurting orgasm finally subsided, mine kicked
into high gear, and I let my spine arch backwards, splaying my crotch wider,
thrusting it forwards. This pushed the back of my hand against the glass,
propelling my finger even harder against my clitoris than I could with just the
tired muscles of my hand. My other hand let go from spreading my outer lips,
and I seized one of my heaving breast in that hand, palpating the hot swollen
flesh in my palm, tweaking my nipple with my fingertips.

Of course, all of this was just what the doctor ordered, for it only took a few
seconds before my own climax began to wash over me. I had been close for so
very long, and I had teased it out while I watched the stranger finish off his
orgasm. But now it was definitely my turn to complete my celebration. My finger
strummed hard over my clitoris, so fast that it must have been perceived as a
hummingbird-wing blur to the man. I grunted and groaned as the first waves of
ecstasy pulsed through me like electric shocks, and then wave after wave
followed. My head was tipped back so that I could see only the ceiling, but I’m
sure that the show I was putting on for the old man was spectacular, I could
feel my juices spreading onto the back of my hand, smearing on the glass just
as he had smeared his thick come onto his window. 

Eventually, the energetic stimulation of my finger was too much,and when I
pulled my finger away and up to my other breast, I found that I could just
barely push my cunt forwards enough so that it made direct contact with the
glass, I wobbled my hips around so that I was squashing my cunt lips against
the cold sheet of glass, splaying the pulpy flesh and spreading the clear
secretions. 

Finally, my legs and libido gave out. Looking behind me, I saw an armchair
close by, so I let my knees buckle and collapsed into the comfortable embrace
of the cushy upholstery. As I did so, I hadn’t a moment to relax before I heard
the phone ringing. What the Hell, I thought, and I looked over at the clock on
the side table. It was after 4:00 in the morning! Who could be calling me now,
of all times. But I reached over and picked it up.

“My name is Charlie, and I wanted you to know that you were absolutely
spectacular. I shall relish the memory of our mutual masturbation forever.
Thank you so much. I don’ want to bother you in any way at all, but if you want
to talk -- or whatever -- call me back. I’m sure you know my room number, Bye.”
And with that he was off the phone. I hadn’t had a chance to speak at all. I
looked through my window towards his room, but the curtain was now closed. The
room number was right there in large gold numbers on the face of his door.

Do you think that I called him? If so, what happened next? Maybe I’ll write the
rest of this story someday... or maybe you will write it for us. I’d be most
interested in hearing the stranger’s side of this story, or it’s continuation.



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