Exhibitionist Erotica
"Hidden Eyes," a sex story by Brian K. Crawford
It was another hot day, and she drowsed in the early afternoon sun. She lay face down in her recliner beside the pool, feeling nothing but contentment. I love the heat, the glow of the sun on my bare skin. I’m wearing my skimpiest bikini, and why not? I’m in the privacy of my own backyard and I have a whole day with nothing to do.
She might have looked asleep, but she was awake and aware of every sensation. She savored the soft warm air moving across her legs and back, fluttering her hair over her face. There would be a few seconds of calm, then another gentle brush across the back of her thighs. It reminded her of one of her former lovers, a man whose only memorable attribute was a head of shoulder-length dark hair and a willingness to lean over her for hours, tracing it as lightly as possible across her naked body.
Wow, what a tingle that memory sent through her! As so often happened when she was basking in the sun, she became aroused. She imagined a faceless lover hovering over her right now, ready to caress her. Perhaps he’ll stroke me with the tip of a feather - or perhaps pour a slow trickle of warm oil down my spine.
She squirmed slightly. Wow, she was getting herself hot. She let her mind drift into a reverie of sexual images - of strong male hands, a penis so erect for her it was bobbing with his heartbeat, of a moustache tickling her nipples. She let her mind drift into all the old familiar fantasies, the tried and true ones that her gotten her off so many times before. I’m a beautiful stripper in an elegant men’s club, dancing naked among the tables, making men weep for wanting me. The old tingle started in her nipples, and she felt them rise up against the material of her top. A warmth began to grow deep in her belly, spreading outward. She clenched her buttocks together, pressing her pubis down against the webbing of the recliner.
God, I can turn myself on at the drop of a hat with those fantasies anytime. But they seemed to be particularly effective now, with her body already basking in the welcoming warmth of the sun. I’ve always been turned on by the thought of having men watch me, staring at my body, driven mad by lust. She slipped the hand under her stomach up to cup her breast and squeeze it. It was warm and soft and damp from the heat. Her nipple was as hard as a pencil eraser against her palm.
Suddenly she noticed a movement in the bushes near the fence. She froze, holding her breath. With her hair blown across her face, she was looking through a golden shimmer of sun, but she could clearly see that one of the azalea bushes was moving in a very unnatural way. It was shaking, gently and rhythmically. It couldn’t be the wind - the other plants were hardly moving. She was just about to get up to investigate when the motion changed. The shaking accelerated, and then suddenly stopped. Puzzled, she stared motionless to see what would happen next. Then, just for the briefest second, she saw a young man’s face peer through the branches at her. Her heart leaped, startled to discover she was not alone in her own backyard.
What should I do? Is he dangerous? I wonder if I could get into the house and get the door locked before he could catch me. Then he sneaked another peek and she recognized him. It’s that teen-age boy from next door. He’s pretty cute, but he can’t be more than seventeen or so. But that hadn’t kept her from running him through a few fantasies - to fairly good results, she remembered. For a second she thought of calling him over, giving him a lesson in love. That’s absurd. He’s only a boy. Not a good career move to go to jail for molesting a neighbor boy.
Suddenly she realized what the shaking must have been - he’d been jerking off! Her initial alarm turned to amusement. He’s just a normal kid doing what most young guys with the opportunity would do - sneaking a good look. She imagined him crouched there in the shadows, peering out at her glowing in the sun. What do I look like to him? Then she chuckled to herself. I already know what he thinks of me - what more honest compliment could a man pay a woman?
He couldn’t have climbed the fence while I’ve been outside; he must have come in earlier, been waiting for me to come out. She was amazed at his nerve. He must know that if I spot him he could get in a lot of trouble. And then to actually masturbate so close to me. He must have found me so alluring that he couldn’t help himself. She imagined those smooth-skinned hands stroking himself furiously, his stream arcing in the sun to spatter white on the dark green azalea leaves. She almost gasped at the image.
She found it exciting to think of him watching her, studying every curve, every motion of her body. Then she remembered what she’d been doing when she’d discovered him. She realized she still had her hand inside her top. Maybe that’s what drove him over the top. Her face burned as she thought of him watching her stroke her breast.
With a rush of heat, she knew full well where she’d been going with those fantasies, that subtle touching. I was well on my way to masturbating myself. God, what if I hadn’t noticed him and gone ahead and done it? Ooh, that plays right into a lot of my favorite fantasies. A dozen scenes flashed through her mind, each more outrageous than the last, and each raising her erotic pitch a little higher, until she felt like a guitar string wound way too tight.
She knew she should be horrified at the thought of this teenage boy watching her masturbate, but it wasn’t shame or outrage she was feeling right now - it was pure, simple lust. You are a shameless slut, she thought to herself. That really turns you on, doesn’t it? But the growing warmth and moisture between her legs was all the answer she needed.
What a show it would have been! Maybe he’d fantasize about this afternoon for the rest of his life. He might be eighty years old someday, desperately trying to get it up one more time, and he’d think of her today, and he’d rise to the occasion again. She chuckled at the thought, but it gave her a warm feeling of - well, lust certainly - but also a feminine pride. She realized a part of her was sorry she had discovered him.
On the other hand, what made it so exciting for her was her awareness of him watching - and the fact that he didn’t know. He thinks he’s getting a secret show, that he’s taking something from me. That’s probably a lot of the turn-on for him. But actually I’m also getting off on a stolen pleasure. He can’t know that his presence was exciting me just as much. He doesn’t know how much I enjoy his eyes on me.
But she was so hot now, all she really wanted to do was masturbate and get that blessed relief. He interrupted me just when it was getting good, and now I’m a hundred times hotter. As exciting as it is to have him there, now I wish he’d leave so I could get back to what I’d been doing. But of course, he can’t leave with me lying here. He can’t hope to escape until I go back indoors. She smiled to herself at the thought. He’s crouched back there, probably with sticky hands, excited, scared, worried I’m discover him. He’s completely in my power. I could scream, make a scene, call the cops. He’s completely helpless and at my mercy - a captive audience.
Wow, that thought cranked her up yet another notch. I have a handsome young man in my power. I can do anything I want and he’ll have to stay there and watch as long as I like. Oh yes, that’s doing it nicely. Keep this up and I won’t even have to jerk off. She realized she was starting to rock her hips slightly and forced herself to stop before he noticed.
She was so horny now she had to do something soon. Maybe I should get up and go inside and let him escape with no harm done. The thought of her bedroom sounded pretty good - her vibrator was calling sweetly to her. But she continued to lie still. She enjoyed keeping the boy trapped. The scamp deserves it. A little fear and discomfort might teach him a lesson, so he doesn’t make a habit of such behavior. But she was feeling too sexy to just lie there for hours to torment him. He’d gotten off on her, but she was still waiting for relief.
A new thought floated into her head. What did she care what he saw? He was there to watch her, and she liked having him watch. It was completely private. It’s just the two of us, lusting for each other, but never touching, never letting the other know.
But isn’t it terribly risky? He’s a minor. Could she be busted for contributing to his delinquency or something? Hell, no, she realized. He was already a delinquent. He’s trespassing and being a voyeur. He’s the one breaking the law, not me. Just like that, she made up her mind - or more accurately, her body made up her mind.
She sighed and stretched as if she were waking up. She saw the bush shiver and imagined him shrinking down in the shadows. She slipped her hand out of her top, then turned over and sat up. She glanced up at the sun, which was nearing the corner of the house. Soon I’ll be in the shade. But I don’t want shade. The warmth of the sun is part of it all. And, she thought with a quiver that ran the length of her spine, what she wanted to do would be enhanced by bright sunlight. She considered moving the recliner closer to the pool. Then yet another dirty thought popped into her head. He’s pretty far away, forty feet at least. If he’s going to be watching a show, he should be in the front row. Impulsively, she got up, picked up the recliner, and carried it around the pool. When she was ten feet from the boy, she set the chair down in the grass. Glancing up again, she turned it around so it faced the sun, but also pointed at the boy. She made a great show of bending over and arranging the towel to her liking. She knew he was watching her ass, her two round globes pressing out toward him. His eyes felt like hot coals on her cheeks.
She lay down again, but raised the chair to a 45° angle. He was in front of her, off to the left slightly. She pulled her bottle of sunscreen from the chair’s pocket. At first it was just something to do, something to cover her nervousness. But then she filled her palm with the warm lotion and possibilities began to open up in her mind.
She started with her legs. She moved slowly and languorously, rubbing the creamy lotion into her hot skin. It felt so good to touch herself at last that she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensual pleasure. But all the time she was aware that his eyes must be following every motion of her hands. I’m not just applying lotion, she thought - I’m spreading his lust over me. I only have to move my hand, like this, and know that he’s following it intently. And when I spread my legs to coat my inner thighs, he’s watching that as well. When I let my fingertips slide just inside the edge of my bikini bottom, his eyes are following them, imagining what they must feel.
30 in the Shade by Stephen Perry available at ObsessionArt.com
Oh my. If I don’t slow down, this is going to be a short show. She got another shot of lotion and lay back in the chair. She stroked it over her belly. She covered her arms and shoulders, then did her face, intentionally leaving her breasts for last. She got one more handful of lotion and snapped the bottle closed. Then she began to smooth the hot creamy white stuff across her breasts. She rubbed it over the tops of her breasts, squeezing them considerably more than was absolutely necessary. She went over and over them, lifting them one at a time to cover the line of unprotected skin just below her breasts. That should get his attention, she thought with dreamy satisfaction.
She continued massaging her breasts, but slowly, dreamily. She knew without looking that her nipples would be as erect as little buttons, making unmistakable bumps in her top. Often they make me self-conscious, but right now I want to be as conscious of my body as he is. She knew he was watching every motion of her hands, studying those tantalizing bumps, imagining her nipples beneath. But why make him imagine? It’s time to give him what he’s been waiting for. She slid her hands down and slipped them under her breasts. They felt warm and heavy in her hands, like melons that had spent the day soaking in the sun. In one smooth motion, she scooped them up and lifted them out of her halter top.
Oh, yes! The sun and air feels so good on my bare tits! She looked down at them. The triangles of white skin around her nipples highlighted them, made her pink aureoles with their little rings of bumps stand out in contrast against her brown skin everywhere else. Her breasts glistened in the sun, a thin sheen of sweat making them shine. She could see the tiny downy hairs sparkling golden in the brilliant sunlight. And above everything else, she was totally aware of his eyes on her, taking in every detail, seeing everything that she saw. She quivered in excitement as another wave of lust ran through her at the thought of his hands coming down to stroke those lovely globes.
I am in complete control. I can do anything I want. Why not give my tits the pleasure they so desire? She leaned forward and reached behind her back to unfasten her top. She felt it spring free and let it fall beside her chair. Ah, much better. Now her hands could wander at will. She slid them up her ribs until they cupped her breasts. Lubricated with the sunscreen, they slid smoothly upward, lifting her breasts high. She bent her head and could just manage to lick one nipple, then the other. Her tongue felt as soft as silk on her super-sensitized skin. Her nipples tasted salty to her tongue, hot already from the sun shining directly on them. She caught them between her fingertips, pinched them gently. God, that feels so good! They’re positively quivering to be touched, stroked, admired.
She had thought she might be too inhibited, but she didn’t feel shy or embarrassed in the least. I feel perfectly safe. I’m in my own backyard and no one else will ever know. It’s just the two of us sharing this adventure, each taking pleasure from the other, titillated by the thought that the other doesn’t know.
She continued massaging her breasts. She lifted and smoothed them in slow languorous circular motions, reveling in the weight and warmth and softness of her own tits. She loved to watch them sliding beneath her hands, slick now with sweat and the lotion. She realized she was actually more comfortable in this strange situation than she usually was with a new man. There’s usually some anxiety, wondering if he’ll like my body, enjoy my lovemaking. How much small talk is enough? Are we going to become lovers? What if I say something stupid? What if he turns out to be a jerk?
But there is none of that - no talk, small or otherwise. It’s just me, him, and our desire rising like steam in the sultry afternoon air. She had never felt more relaxed, more aroused, or more desirable.
She realized she was rubbing her thighs together in time with her ceaselessly moving hands. Her buttocks were clenched tightly, pushing her hips rhythmically upward in the ancient timeless dance of love. There could be no doubt in his mind that he was seeing pure female lust in all its natural power. This was no model in a magazine pretending to be aroused. This was a real woman, giving herself pleasure. Sensing his desire so close to her, she felt as if she were standing close to a fire. The sun was hot on her skin, but she was much more aware of his eyes on her.
But now they were ready for the final act, what they’d both been waiting for. Besides, as wild and wanton as she felt right now, even the tiny strip of remaining cloth seemed unbearably confining. She didn’t want anything between them now. She slipped her thumbs under the thin material. Raising her hips, she slid the bikini bottom to her knees in one quick motion. She lifted her legs and whipped it off over her feet, flinging it carelessly away toward the pool. She lay back, savoring the feeling of the smooth plastic on her bottom, the joy of total freedom. She let one leg fall casually off the lounger, opening her legs and pointing her snatch right at his hiding place. Is that what you wanted, my young voyeur? My cunt in your face?
Oh, the delicious sensations that flooded through her! The sun’s warmth, the caress of the breeze on her exposed labia - and above all, the thought of what the boy must be feeling as he stared for the first time at her naked cunt! Take a good long look while we both wonder what I’ll do next. It didn’t take her long to decide. She couldn’t keep her hands away another second. Raising herself on one elbow, she slid her hand down her belly and her fingers crept into her thin bush of hair. Sliding downward, her fingers curled under till her pubis filled her cupped hand like a warm soft kitten. God, I’m hot! She could feel moisture on her fingers, confirming what she already knew - that she was already soaking wet with excitement.
She stroked herself gently, carefully avoiding touching her clit too soon. There’s no need to hurry, but it does feel so very good! The sun was hot on her bare skin, especially the newly exposed areas, unprotected by her tan. She was very aware of the gentle breeze on her fully erect nipples. Looking down at them, she saw them rise and fall with her excited breathing; how they jiggled with the tremors of desire emanating from the hand between her legs. She brought her left hand up to stroke them, letting her fingers bump across her hard nipple. How hard it is - how it yearns to be sucked and licked!
She imagined the boy’s eyes watching it as eagerly as hers. Is he masturbating too? Does he have his cock out right now, sharing the hot sun and the cool breeze with me? Is his strong brown hand stroking it right now, perhaps matching his strokes to mine? She imagined his cock bobbing in the bright sun, the head so engorged it was purple and shining. She loved the thought that all that male energy and raw lust was driven by her beauty, so shamelessly displayed for him alone.
Against her will, her stroking was accelerating, her hand pressing harder. She imagined her hand stroking his cock, the long smooth warmth of it against her palm, the silky softness of the head. She spread her fingers, pulling open her lips, revealing the shocking pink inside. Releasing her breasts reluctantly, she brought both hands down and used them to stretch her lips as wide as they would go, always remembering not to obstruct the boy’s view.
There you go, kid, she thought, thrusting her pelvis up and forward. Take a good look. Here’s what you’ve been waiting for – a good close, wide-open look right up inside my cunt. A woman can’t show you more than that. She could feel his eyes burning right up inside her, on her most intimate private parts, and she loved it. He could see everything – her clitoris, bright red and obviously aroused, her soft pink inner flesh, her brown-tipped lips stretched wide, even the very opening of her vagina. She’d never felt more beautiful, more desirable, or more feminine in her life.
What’s he thinking right now? I sure as hell know what I’m feeling – intense lust, in its cleanest, purest form. She was stroking herself with both hands now, circling closely around her clit, occasionally grazing it lightly with a nail, sometimes thrusting two or three fingers deep inside. Now and again she’d slide one hand up to stroke her breasts and rub her nipples. Her wet fingers left shiny tracks on her tits that gleamed in the bright summer sun.
And all the while she was intensely aware of his invisible eyes on her body, following every movement of her hands. I can direct him, move his eyes wherever I want them. She began to feel that the warmth of her hands sliding over her skin was the heat of his eyes on her. Look up here, see these tits, now down here, look what my fingers are doing now. Watch how easily I can slide three fingers into my pussy. Watch how my lips spring back when I pull them out and let them go. See how my clit is sticking up, as red and hard as a little dick. Look how smooth and soft my thighs are, stretched wide on either side of the chair. Don’t forget to look at my tits, though. See how I can push them up enough to lick them? I can pick them up just by pulling on my nipples. Look how they bounce when I release them. But let’s not forget my pussy – now it’s missing the attention.
Zowie, how hot she was right now! Her cunt felt empty, needy, incomplete, as if it were a vacuum that could suck a cock right into it. Does he feel that, too? Is his cock straining toward me like a compass needle toward its pole? Oh, yes, that was a good image. I am the Earth Mother herself, my irresistible magnetic field causing every penis to yearn toward me. She imagined her power pulling him out of the bushes, drawn cock-first right through the shrubbery. She nearly laughed at the absurd image, but such shamelessly randy thoughts nearly sent her over the edge herself. My God, how I want a cock inside me right now! She thought wistfully of her vibrator, but it was in the drawer beside her bed. She could hardly run into the house to get it without disrupting the erotic tension she’d so carefully built up.
The very idea of the vibrator, which she’d always considered so private, so intimate, turned her on even more. I’ve never shown it to anyone, never even told anyone about it. What could be more outrageously wanton than to shove it into myself in public, let this perfect stranger watch me giving myself pleasure with it? Yikes! Now I just wish I had the damn vibrator out here. Vibrator, hell – I’d fuck a damn corncob if I had one. But she had nothing, just the beach chair. Suddenly she remembered the tube of suntan lotion she’d dropped in the pocket of the chair. She reached down and pulled it out, quickly judging its size and shape. The cap is rounded off; the tube’s diameter is pretty big, but not impossible. The way I feel right now, the bigger the better. She made sure the cap was on tight and wiped it clean, then brought it down between her legs. With her left hand she spread her lips wide. She laid the cap between her lips and slid it up and down a few times. It felt cool and hard against her soft inner skin. She let it bump across her clitoris, then slid it down until she felt it slip inside and lodge in her opening. She curled two fingers under the bottom of the tube and pushed. She felt resistance at first, then her inner lips opened to receive it. She craned her head to watch as she started working it in. Inch by inch it disappeared into her. The picture of the blonde girl on the side of the tube slid, still smiling, between her lips and disappeared inside her. Finally only the bottom inch of the tube stuck out of her. She took her hands away, leaving the tip of the tube protruding obscenely from between her legs.
Now for the final act. She was too far gone now to hold off any longer. She braced her feet on the ground on either side and pushed herself back in the chair. She leaned against the angled back, raising her body so she could more easily watch herself. Looking down, she could see the red plastic tube still sticking out of her, drawing the eye – his eyes too, she knew – irresistibly to her gaping lips, stretched wide around the warm smooth plastic. Reaching down with both hands, she gripped the tube by the very end and slowly started to withdraw it. The tube was shining wet as it emerged into the sun.
When her lips slipped off the shoulders of the tube and only the cap remained inside, she stopped. She brought her left hand down onto her belly and slid it down over her mound. She spread her lips open, revealing her hard little clit to the sun. With her middle finger, she began to stroke it gently, feeling tremors of passion surge through her, rising up her belly and out to the tips of her breasts. With her right hand holding the end of the tube, she began to screw it back in. Oh, how good it feels! She loved the thought of the handsome young man only a few yards away, watching every movement, every jiggle of her breasts, every wave of lust that crossed her face.
Then there was no controlling it any more. She rammed the tube home and started pumping it furiously, while her left hand twiddled and pressed her clitoris as fast as she could. For a few moments she had no more thoughts at all, just a pure frenzy of desire and a need for release. Finally, it came, with a shuddering, shaking intensity she had never known before. She cried out once, a single groan of pleasure and surprise at the power of the rush. Her orgasm swept through her, causing her to jerk and writhe again and again. When it stopped at last, she lay exhausted, covered in sweat. A wonderful lassitude came over her, a post-coital relaxation that felt heavenly after the frenzy of her exertions. She slipped the tube of lotion out of her and let it fall, then lay spread-eagled and limp, slowly regaining her breath.
After a few moments, she came to her senses. It was time to end it. She sat up, brushed away the hair that had tumbled over her face, and looked around as if awakening from a dream. She got up, still a little weak in the knees, and picked up the pieces of her bathing suit. She turned and went into the house through the sliding door into her bedroom. Once in the cool darkness, she drew the curtains and took a deep breath. Standing just behind the curtains, she could still see the sunlit yard but knew she couldn’t be seen at all. She waited, wanting to see what he looked like after their strange shared adventure.
It was several minutes before anything happened. Then there was a slight rustle in the bush. Finally the top of his head appeared cautiously over the top of the shrubbery. He peered toward the house, making sure she wasn’t coming back out. After another minute or two, he stood up and hurried over to the fence. Hmm, not bad. Strong, fit, with broad shoulders and a nice tight ass, nicely revealed as he scrambled over the fence and dropped out of sight.
Of course, I can never acknowledge what happened. If I meet him face to face, I’ll just have to keep a straight face and try not to blush. She had a stab of anxiety. What if he speaks to me, makes some oblique reference to what happened? But he wouldn’t, not without revealing that he’d been trespassing and peeping. Besides, I’m a perfectly respectable woman - no one would believe him. Everyone would think he was just fantasizing about the pretty woman next door.
She chuckled to herself and stared out at the empty chair in the yard, shaking her head in wonder that she’d actually had the nerve to do it. But then she stopped chuckling as the bushes rustled again. One by one, three more young boys appeared and scrambled quickly over the fence.
Originally published February 2011