Secretly Watching: An Erotic Story

This is the first day of sun. Warm sun. Clouds have covered the sky for far too long, and cold air crept across my skin for even longer. Being outside without my clothes for the first time in months is delightful.

The old blanket I pulled out is just a bit shorter than me so as I lay and enjoy the heat, the grass tickles at my ankles and feet. Combine that with the energy of the day and a rush of excitement is flooding through me. I run my hands over my hips, thighs, ribs and continue to shift my feet in the fresh grass. A simultaneous and uncontrollable giggle and laugh sneak out.

But then I hear another. But not from me. And still more laughter.

I immediately cover myself as best I can, one arm crossing my breasts the other my bush. Neither does that great a job but until I am paralyzed with fear, surveying the fence line with my eyes. Living out in the country, with a big old wooden fence, I never worry about being seen. I frolic and screw out here all the time! But who could have made that noise?

I listen for more and hear two voices and much rustling about. I sneak closer and closer to the fence, now wrapped in my blanket, creeping as quietly as can be. I strain to try and see the fence but the boards are too close together. So I stretch up, extending so much that the blanket falls from my body to peak over the fence.

I don't want to be seen, but I do like what I see.

They must have come down this way from the highway. Maybe their urges were just too strong, too needy. Whatever compelled them to steal away from the world and hide on the edge of my property, I appreciate because I can't take my eyes off these two screwing like animals.

When I see what they're doing I immediately duck back down, not wanting to get caught. But I can't resist the urge to look again, lingering longer this time because I can tell they won't catch me.

She's on her hands and knees, skirt push up past her curvy, bare ass. Her wild, red hair thrashes about and the giggle sounds have been replaced with deep moans. I can't even see her face, but I can tell she loves this.

His eyes are fixated on her ass. He grabs her hips and guides her back onto his exposed cock, over and over. His shorts have slipped down to reveal just a bit of his slightly hairy ass. I can see his arms flexing and I know that he's trying to hold back from cumming.

Neither are paying attention to me, but I'm watching them intently. Considering I was already working myself up—now I'm in a lather. I reach down and slip a finger between my slick lips. As I brush my clit for the first time, I have to stifle a cry. This scene is too good to miss out on.

Knowing that he's on the verge, I rub my clit fast and furious. I don't want to be left high and wet if he shoots his load and they scurry off. She pushes back on him, harder and faster and her moans are turning into loud cries of pleasure. His heavy breath takes over the sound of the breeze. All of these aim directly at my wanting pussy so I do myself as fast as I possibly can.

She screams out first, her body stiffening. His fingers dig deep into her flesh as he also unloads, hunching over her, gasping for air. As both shudder through their orgasms, I explode on my hand, having to hold on to the fence to stop from following. Wave after wave of wicked sensation flows through me as my eyes remain fixed on them.

As soon as I regain my senses I slip back down behind the fence. Just in time too as they start to scramble back into their clothes. I remain crouched, unmoving, waiting for them to leave so that I don't make a sounds. Both are giggling, and I can hear them kiss. I am relieved to hear footsteps moving away from the fence. I let out a sigh and slip my hand back down between my legs. Until the silence is suddenly shattered.

"Thanks for watching!" the woman laughs!

I jump up to peak over the fence. The two of them laugh and wave before turning to run to their car.

About The Author

Jon pressick3
Jon Pressick

Jon Pressick is a sexual gadabout. Sometimes he’s journalism and smut on his blog Sex In Words. Sometimes he’s cohosting and producing his radio show Sex City. Sometimes he’s hosting the Toronto Erotica Writers and Readers Meetup. Sometimes he’s performing as Mr. Ease. Sometimes he’s speaking at conferences. Sometimes he’s facilitating sex workshops. And sometimes he’s not thinking about sex at all. But those few minutes usually pass pretty quickly. You can find Jon at his blog or on Twitter


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