Curtains For Two
Published by D.J. Williamson at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 D.J. Williamson
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It was something of a game, really. How long can I go before I lose it? How close can I come to getting caught without actually getting caught?
I suppose it started even back when I was a kid. After masturbating to climax for the first time when I was thirteen, I did it whenever I had a chance. Bedroom and bathroom were, of course, the usual spots. But the urge to do so came whenever the hell it wanted. So every once in a while, I'd play around in less private area. In class or at the dinner table is not the kind of place you can jerk yourself off easily, so I'd rub it between my thighs, giving it a stroke under the pretense of itching every now and again. I rarely came that way, but I got to enjoy the buildup a lot. The orgasm after such a long time of...foreplay, I guess, was intense. Waiting a day or two before releasing was amazing, though hard to do at that age. The urge is just too potent then.
As I got older, I had girlfriends, and we fooled around plenty. But it never slowed my solo activities much. Looking back, it might have helped in a way. Having taught myself to hold back orgasm made me a more patient lover than most teens. But I can't honestly say that was the reason I did it. It was just fun. Still is.
I met Gloria in college. We hit it off, and before too long we were dating. After a long session of making out and petting one evening, she stopped to tell me that she couldn't have sex with me. Traditional intercourse was very painful for her. She was very surprised to learn that I had no problem being with her without sex. But there were plenty of other things to do with each other, and we tried them all. Mutual masturbation was a favorite, and it added quite a lot of fun to play with myself at the same time she did, especially with the little touches and such we traded during our version of lovemaking. Foreplay for us could last for days.
I never quit playing by myself, but as I got older, I kept pushing my limits with public masturbation. Public restrooms were always a favorite. Not in a stall, that's too easy to hide in. Facing a urinal, or right out in the middle of the room, or if I was really wound up, facing the door. Car rides were good too. Steer the car with one hand and play with the other. Few people will notice, unless you're making grossly obvious arm movements. If the back roads I traveled on occasion were deserted enough, I'd park and play right out in the middle of the road. Finishing off in the middle of the road was explosive. Outdoor orgasms tend to be good anyway.
I've been caught a time or two. After all, if you set yourself up for it long enough, you're bound to. The reactions are varied. A lot of people will simply move on. I suppose that is the polite thing to do. A few freak out. Easy enough to understand, I guess. Some will actually watch. That's fun. Guys, mostly, but some girls too. The inevitable question of whether or not watching another guy jerk off is gay or not, I leave to the individual to figure out. I just don't care. It seems to give me a charge regardless of the gender. Something about the way they watch is fascinating to me. Curiosity and lust make an interesting face on people. Only twice in all the times I got caught did the surprised party join in. Both times guys. Once was in a rest stop bathroom. I found out later it was rumored to be a gay pickup spot. He didn't try to pick me up. He just rubbed himself through his slacks while he watched. He only pulled it out through his zipper to finish. It was quite the mess.
The second time was down an old trail in the woods. It was quiet, due to cold and wet weather, so I stepped off the trail a little and started playing around. I got into it enough to zone out of my surroundings, and I didn't see the guy approach until I opened my eyes to some small noise. He was an older gentleman in a jogging suit. He had already pulled out his stubby cock at some point, and was working it over slowly, mumbling something while he went about it. We went on for a while, and I didn't manage to make it as long as him. But I continued watching until he finished. It only seemed fair. He offered to take me home after, but I declined. He didn't seem too disappointed, and left.
With the age of the internet on us, it is almost too easy to see any kind of sex you'd like. It is tons of fun, but it's never quite as fun as the real deal with real people around. I did discover that I am attracted to masturbation from either sex that way. I have no real desire to touch another guy, for the most part, but I'll watch them touch themselves all day. Gloria was much the same way, though she preferred guys. Every once in a while, she'd find a girl she liked, but seemed to get bored of them and moved on until another girl came into her radar. I'll admit, there are a few guys I wonder about myself. But most guys do nothing for me, and I could have never cheated on Gloria. The playing thing was different. She knew what I did, and even indulged herself when she was in the right mood. She confessed that the first time she did it was spying on one of her cousins in the middle of the night. Got caught, too. She told me that she still used the memory every once in a while, blushing pretty when she said it. I told her about my mother catching me in the living room once, and the long talk we had about it after. I told her I thought about Mom when I came that night and thought I'd go to hell for it. We had a good chuckle over that.
This all ended a few years back, when Gloria passed away. Thirty six is a hell of an age to become a widower, but shit happens, and it happened to us. A rather aggressive cancer. I think of her every day, but it's been long enough now where I can do so and not be paralyzed with grief. But it's been a long, lonely time for me, even with my family and hers surrounding me. They can't fill the spot she kept in my heart, and I've often wondered if anyone could.
Her loss has affected my sex life too, of course. I've found that sex between us has curbed my need for exhibitionist masturbation, and with her gone, my desire to go out and play has increased. I worry in my saner moments about indecent exposure charges or worse, but it never seems to curb the desire to do it when it comes over me. I don't have any other hobbies to occupy my time, and no one to share that time with. I've looked online for people to play with, but it seems that I can't settle on anyone. It's hard to pick someone to play around based off of a maybe real photo and a poorly spelled profile. My usual cruisings haven't stumbled me into anyone, and doesn't seem likely to. Webcams don't do much for me either. Lacks the personal touch, to make a small pun.
* * *
One night, a few weeks back, I was sitting in my living room playing idly while watching this pretty young girl finger herself with wild enthusiasm, when I heard something outside. Being the sort of person that I am, I didn't flip out and try to hide what I was doing. Instead, I turned my webcam on, bringing a small window up in the corner of my screen. Through it, I could see myself, but also I could see someone outside my window, peeking through the curtains. Intriguing. I'm not used to folks spying on me, especially since I live a ways out of town. Doubly so, since their arm was positioned in such a way to make me think they were playing a little themselves. I considered the situation, still playing of course. Coming to a decision, I got up and made my way to the back of the house, walking slow and casual, like I was just getting something in the other room. I made my way to the back door, and let myself out as quiet as possible. The night was cool and just a little damp, making it a little easier to walk quiet across the yard. I took a peek around the corner and saw my peeper.
I was surprised to see that I recognized her. It was Martha, one of my neighbors from down the road. She was standing up on tiptoe to peek in, being on the little side. She was indeed giving herself a little tickle, as her hand was roaming around the inside of her sweatpants. I smiled a little, leaning up against the side of the building. After a moment, I spoke out.
"Evening, Martha." She nearly leaped out of her skin when I spoke, and backed up a few steps. She tried to pull her hand out of her pants, but it caught on something, and it took a few seconds to do it. Even in the dark, I could see the color rise to her face, and she buried her face in her hands.
"Oh my God, I..Fred, I wasn't...I mean." she babbled on like this for a while, and I crossed over to her and put a hand on her shoulder, dropping the smile since she was distressed.
"Easy, Martha, easy. No harm done. Just take a deep breath." She sputtered out a few more breathless fragments of speech, then lowered her hands as I continued soothing her. She looked up at me, teary eyed and confused, but calmer. I took her by the arm and led her to the house. She came with, a little reluctant, but not looking so terrified no that it seemed I wouldn't yell or scream or call the cops.
I forgot to pause the video I was watching when I left, so we were greeted by loud moaning when we entered the house. Martha blushed again as I went over to shut the video off. I sat her down on the couch, and made a couple of drinks. I figured the alcohol might help her calm down. She was sitting clenched like a fist, her knees tight together and her bent over her thighs. She looked like she was going for fetal position. I handed her drink to her, and she took it and held it in both hands. She took a big gulp of it as I sat down on the desk chair. I thought sitting on the couch next to her would just make her even more high strung.
"Look Fred," she blurted out. "I am so sorry. I didn't..." She have a harsh laugh without much humor in it. "I was going to say I didn't mean to...do what I was doing, but that's an obvious lie, huh?"
"Yes ma'am." I said. "But I meant what I said. It's no big deal. It doesn't bother me. I owe you the apology. I wanted to scare you a little, and I guess I did."
She looked at me funny, then, "You really mean that, don't you?"
"Of course. Think about it. How many people would have been smiling catching you?"
"I suppose." she said. She took a more ladylike sip of her drink. She seemed to be relaxing, at least a little. She had dark brown hair, and was slender in build, except for her hips, which were quite full for someone so small. She was in a grey sweatshirt to match the pants, and I imagine she was jogging before she got diverted. She was in her forties, I knew, but she didn't look it, except for a few lines around the eyes. I had to fight down the urge to rub myself. She looked good, real good, and not just because I was watching her play with herself outside my window moments ago.
"So, is this your first time peeking in my window?" I asked, giving her a smile to let her know all was well. She just stared for a moment before surprising me again.
"No. I..saw you doing it through your window from the road a few months ago." she turned the glass over in her hand, then made eye contact with me for the first time since I caught her. "I've watched you on and off since."
I laughed. You would think someone like me would have noticed, but she was good. "Awesome. I never suspected. I'm flattered." I meant it, too. "So what's stopping you now?"
"Huh?" she said, her face going slack with surprise.
"Look, you know I don't mind, and I'm sure not bothered by it, so why not just go back to what you were doing before?" I shrugged. "At least you'll be warmer in here."
She just stared with that stunned look on her face. Maybe she was still too nervous to even discuss such things. But I was serious, and I loved the idea, naturally. Then inspiration hit. I placed my hand over my still semi-hard cock and rubbed it. I said,"I know what it is. You were watching me playing, so I have to play to get you in the mood again."
She blushed again, still not saying anything when I pulled my dick out and began giving it some light tugging. It was enough to get it right back to full under her regard. It had been a while since anyone watched me directly, and the excitement of it ran over my nerves like a tidal wave. Her eyes were definitely showing interest, though. I was glad I came last night. If I had been teasing a few days, I probably couldn't have done this for long, even at the slow pace I was setting now.
She knocked the rest of her drink off, and leaned back on the couch. Letting out a shuddering breath, she reached down under her pants again, and began nice and slow herself. Odd as some might find it, even watching someone playing under their clothes can be an intense experience. The mystery of it, I suppose. You know what's going on, but you can't quite see it. I watched her legs spread open, as she loosened up entirely and let herself go with it.
She must have been out there for a while, because slow wasn't working for her for long. She swore under her breath, then reached into one of her pockets. She pulled out one of those fingertip vibrators, and slipped it on her finger. She yanked the sweatpants down to her ankles, and tracing her way down through the soft mass of her pubic hair, she slid it in and began rubbing her clit with it, her hips moving up to meet it half way. It was almost getting too much for me, hearing her moan in counterpoint to the waspy buzzing of the vibrator, watching her shake and squirm. I had intended to make it last, but it was not to be. I lost myself in the impending orgasm, rocking in the chair, feeling the electric buzz tuning up on my nerves. One last look at her sprawled on the couch, fucking her own hand, and I let go, groaning out almost painfully as I came hard enough to spray myself in the chest and belly. She stared at me as my hips bucked out as it kept coming in hard bursts of pure lightning. Finally spent, I took a deep breath, and settled as my nerves began dialing back down to normal, feeling light headed and warm.
She rocked toward her own climax as I came down from mine, sticking a couple of fingers inside her as she breathed in shorter and harder, storing up for a low drawn out moan as she came, shuddering as her hips shot up over the couch, hovering there as her fingers slipped in and out of her, the vibrator held hard over her clit. She dropped back down to the couch, shaking all over as her finger worked herself over slowly, bringing her down from the peak of her pleasure.
We sat there silently for a time, breathing and basking in the delight of afterglow. Her eyes fluttered open, looking around like she didn't know where she was. She looked over at me, and we burst out laughing at the same time. Spent of that, I got up and went to the bathroom to wipe myself off. When I came back, her clothes were back where they belonged, and she was rearranging her ponytail. Done with that, she walked over to me, looking like she wanted to say something. She didn't, but she gave me a soft kiss on the lips, and then left.
I went to the window and watched her jog up my driveway. Out loud, I said, "The curtain's always open to you."
* * *
I hadn't seen her since then, except in passing. To be honest, I haven't really looked. I thought a casual how-do-you-do would be awkward for her. But I made sure the curtain was always open, just in case. She could have been there, and I might not have noticed. She proved she was sneaky. Just the possibility has helped on my own little adventures at the desk.
I did some walking of my own, since that night, inspired by her. I went past Martha's place, no closer than the road. Her car was parked, and unless I'm mistaken, I could have sworn the curtains to the window on her bedroom was pulled aside a little. Hard to tell from a distance, but it did seem the light was on. I smiled, and quietly made my way to her window.
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