Ruby and the Watcher - Sex Stories

Ruby and the Watcher

... crossed her arms. “But-“ Fay held up her hand, and pressed a button on the remote. A projector fired up and filled the curtain with an Imax-scale picture. The elevated view of a kitchen. A woman reclined on the kitchen table with her skirt round her waist, displaying black panties. She pulled her knees back and apart, indecently. A shirtless, muscular man leaned into the frame, yanked aside the woman’s gusset and shoved his face between her spread thighs. The woman whimpered. “Ok.” Ruby started to turn, poised to run from this evident nutcase. Fay gripped her hand. “Don’t you recognise anything?” Ruby frowned. Cursed her stupidity for getting into this. Then she heard him, muffled, but undeniable. “Oh baby. Baby. Mmm.” Bill? She looked again, trying to avoid the writhing woman as she clawed at the nuzzling head. It was Bill’s kitchen. That was his table. So that was… Ruby’s jaw dropped. Fay laughed, and fiddled with the remote. The picture moved, floated down over the couple, rested on the woman’s heaving stomach. The man’s face filled the wall, forehead sheened in sweat, tongue lapping and wriggling between the woman’s legs. Definitely Bill. “How did… What?” “It’s live,” Fay said, “call him.” Ruby pulled out her phone, but her brain jammed. “No. This is a windup.” Fay grabbed it off her and dialed. On screen, Bill frowned. Still licking, he pulled his phone out. Fay swung the viewpoint round, looking over his shoulder as he pulled his face off the woman and slid a finger ...

... into her. She gasped and he surreptitiously checked his screen. Ruby’s number. Ruby’s eyes welled as Bill shook his head, tossed the phone and launched his mouth back to work. “I don’t understand,” she said, unable to tear her eyes from the torment. “Do you want me to turn it off?” Fay said. “Yes. No. What are you? Some kind of spy or special agent or…” Bill sucked the woman’s bits, moving his fingers inside her. Ruby had loved that. “I watch,” Fay said but Ruby didn’t quite hear over the fellated-woman’s swearing. “A Witch?” “No. I watch.” Fay slid the view over the couple, over the woman’s blissed-out face. “It’s what I do, watch. Everything.” “Everything?” “Well, the interesting bits. “ “Sex.” “Sex,” Fay chuckled. “Well, orgasms. It’s difficult to describe. They sustain me. I think. I sort of feed on them?” Ruby blinked, and frowned. Fay rolled her eyes. “I know, mad. Huh? Women’s climaxes are best. Men’s are ok but like… little snacks.” I’m having a nervous breakdown. Ruby decided. Or dreaming. Deep breaths, count to ten. One. Two. “Three!” Fay said, “See? Not dreaming, or going mad. Go with it.” Fay flung herself into a huge leather cloud of a sofa. “It’s real. And this woman, really, is not as pretty as you.” Ruby was not vain but had to agree, dream or real, the woman was quite plain. “That doesn’t help.” Ruby perched beside Fay. “I don’t want to see her face.” “Me neither. Have you seen this?” The viewpoint moved down to the woman’s fingers, explicitly spreading herself ...