What Katie did on the Balcony. By katie_tt - Sex Stories

What Katie did on the Balcony. By katie_tt

... a public display one of my strongest fantasies? There is still a voluptuous aura surrounding me. I find I am rubbing myself again. I would love to stand up on the table and pull my shorts and panties down and let the world watch me pleasure myself, but I don’t. I will go inside, into my bedroom, take all my clothes off to lie naked on the bed. I will fantasise about something, and fuck myself with one of my toys, or maybe just my fingers. Whatever. I feel so restless. I need to cum. I miss Alex. He would know what I need at this particular moment. Would he encourage me to work through my fantasy, to stay on the balcony, to masturbate in front of an unknown number of people? Or he might take me inside, work out some role play which will leave both of us exhausted but satisfied. I shake the idea out of my head and stand to go inside. In the glass of the sliding doors I can see, against the darkness inside, the bright reflection of the building across the road, and I realise, with a slight shock, that there is a man on the balcony opposite, and he is watching me. My first reaction is anger. I feel he is violating me, invading my privacy if not my body. How dare he? The anger passes, to be replaced by the warm flush of an anticipated sexual event. Isn’t this exactly my fantasy of a moment ago? I look closely into the reflection. He is not fifty metres away and I can see his face clearly. It is Mr Burgess. My knees tremble. I feel I might climax as I stand there, without even ...

... touching myself. I need to do something, but I don’t know what. I should give him something worthwhile to look at. I pick up a tea towel from the little balcony table and I start rubbing the glass, pretending to be cleaning it. I stay where I can monitor his reflection, trying to see what he is doing. I undo the buttons of my shorts so that they are loose on me. I stretch up, polishing the glass door, and as I stretch up I feel the shorts sliding down. I feel the warm sun on my exposed flesh. I pull my tummy in and the shorts slide down to my knees, revealing my panties. Oh God, I hope he is watching. I kick the shorts off altogether. There is no law against standing on my own balcony in my panties, but even so, the knowledge that there is at least one pair of eyes watching creates a slightly illicit thrill which adds fo my arousal. I continue the window cleaning, still stretching upwards to reach the highest part. From in front, where he can’t see my hands, I am pulling the panties down with one hand until I am sure half my crack is visible. I want to take them right off and turn to show him my dark triangle of pubic hair but I am still not brave enough to do this. In the reflection his hands are hidden by the balcony wall, but I fancy that I can see rhythmic movement. Are you masturbating, Mr Burgess? Is this little glimpse of my bottom enough to send you off to a little ecstatic trip? There is the sound of a car parking, a car door opening then closing. Mr Burgess’s reflection ...