10 comments/ 45371 views/ 5 favorites On the Balcony By: eliza mimsford What I am going to write about happened at a strange time for me, during a sad, crazy, and yet somehow bittersweet summer. My husband Mark—now my ex-husband--was an airline pilot. Before I had met him, he had been engaged to a gorgeous, shapely flight attendant named Sherry. Sherry left him and married a doctor and, he told me, broke his heart. I should have listened when my friends said not to take up with someone who was on the rebound and was still bouncing around, but Mark was sweet to me and clever and after only a few months he asked me to marry him. Just before our first anniversary, Mark informed me that he was scheduled to fly to Chicago on our big day. He said we could celebrate when he got back to Denver the next day. No way, I thought. I planned a romantic surprise. I knew he always stayed at the Chancellor Hotel when he was in Chicago. I flew there myself on a later flight. At first the hotel manager was reluctant to even tell me what room my husband was staying in, but I produced my ID and and some wedding pictures dated one year earlier. I flirted with him some too. I guess he had a sentimental streak because he gave me a copy of the electronic key to Mark's room. I let myself in. I was hoping that Mark would be out for dinner—he often ate with other pilots when he was in Chicago, he told me. However, when I went in, I heard the shower running. Even better. I iced the champagne I had brought. I turned down the bed and scattered rose petals on the sheets. I took off my clothes and scattered some rose petals on me. I lay there in the twilight, thinking how surprised Mark would be. Of course, he was very surprised. So was I. So was Sherry. They came out of the bathroom completely naked. Mark had a huge erection. I guess they had been fooling around in the shower and now they had adultery on their minds. I don't remember much about that night. I don't even remember what I said to Mark and Sherry. I do remember thinking, it's because of her body, her breasts, her boobs are bigger than mine and her rear is smaller. I remember trying to cover myself up so that she wouldn't see that I was a weaker competitor. I don't remember getting dressed and going downstairs. I know I ended up in the hotel bar and got completely, totally, stinking, falling-down drunk. I remember hoping some lonely businessman would come into the bar and I would seduce him. We'd be making out wildly on the elevator and, by happenstance, Mark and Sherry would get on the elevator. However, no likely male came into the bar. I walked down the street and checked into another hotel and the next morning, with a throbbing headache, I flew back to Denver. That afternoon I got in touch with a divorce lawyer who had a reputation for ruthlessness. By June, we had settled. I got quite a lot of Mark's money. So, that summer, I moved out of the house where Mark and I had been living. It was basically mine but I couldn't stand to live there. I moved into a third floor apartment while I was looking for a house of my own. I'm a school teacher—fifth grade—so I was off for the summer. For that matter, after stripping my husband of most of his worldly wealth, I probably could have avoided working for several years. I did very little that that summer. Woke up late. Read trashy novels and magazines. Watched some soaps. Shopped a lot. I hardly saw my friends. All I could talk about was Mark, and how pissed I was at him, and I knew that they were getting bored with my whining. I certainly had no interest in dating. And I sunbathed. I know, I know, it's not "politically correct" to sit in the sun these days—you get skin cancer and make yourself look old and leathery before your time. But I grew up in an era when you didn't really look healthy, you just didn't look right, somehow, if you were pale between June and September. And somehow, I didn't care, that summer, about my future health, so I spent at least an hour a day in the warm Colorado sunshine, reading my trashy books and drinking white wine. One Saturday afternoon in June, I noticed a kid on the balcony next to mine. Probably in his late teens or early twenties, he was not an attractive young man. He was overweight, quite a bit overweight. He had freckles and a buzz cut, which gave him a 1950's air, and he wore a baseball cap facing the wrong way. He looked like the kind of kid who lived in a basement playing video games and stuffing his face with junk food all the time. In fact, I thought I could see some orange cheese-puff dust on his hands and around his mouth. The only thing remarkable about him was the look of lust on his face. I was wearing a not-so-revealing, not-so-flattering one-piece swimsuit, yet he was staring at me as if I were a fully nude supermodel. I had never seen such a shameless look of desire. His piggy little eyes were so hungry for me, it was embarrassing, and yet ... and yet, I somehow basked in his crude longing for me. I had no clear idea why, but inspiring this kind of lust made me feel better than I had felt since that terrible evening in Chicago. We didn't acknowledge each other's existence that first day or for many days to come. That first day, I stayed out on my balcony until the sun had disappeared behind the building next door. Several times I put on suntan lotion, rubbing it slowly into my skin. When I went inside, I ran a bath, got into the warm water, and slowly brought myself to climax while imagining this young man watching me masturbate. I asked around. I made inquiries. No one in the building seemed to know this young man well. According to one woman who lived across the hall from me, the kid's name was Jackson. He lived with his father and was studying to be a mechanic at a community college. I couldn't find out much more than that about him. He wasn't on the balcony during the week. I suppose he had a job, maybe as an apprentice mechanic. On weekends, though, he was always there. Although he was overweight, he had a starved look on his round face. I began to look forward to Saturdays and Sundays, and finally began to live for them. I went to the mall and bought several skimpier, more flattering bikinis. I even started working out and went on a diet to get in better shape. We still had no contact, Jackson and me, no communication. Often I would lie on my tummy, feeling his eyes on my bare back, my legs, my butt. I worried that he thought my bottom was too big. On other days, I was on my back, pretending to read my book or a magazine without looking up, or I pretended to be napping. Then I worried that he thought my breasts were too small. By the Fourth of July I was sunbathing without my swimsuit top. The first time he came out on the balcony and saw my breasts, I heard him gasp. I guess he didn't mind their size. I was pretending to be asleep, but I was wearing dark sunglasses. Through my slitted eyelids and behind my dark lkenses, I watched him, watched his face. I heard him pull his zipper down. There was a brick railing, so I couldn't see his lower body, but I could tell he was stroking his penis. In just a few minutes, he rolled his head back, his face contorted, his whole body shuddered, and he moaned like a sick walrus. Why was I obsessed by being seen by him? I was as fascinated by being looked at as Jackson was with looking at me, maybe even more so. His viewing me was like sweet cold water to a woman lost in the desert, yet I truly have no idea why. Possibly because, in my imagination anyway, he had never seen a woman nude; not a real living, breathing woman, anyway, maybe one on the Internet. Being his first woman intrigued me. All his life, he would compare other women to this strange sunbather who had once lived next door to him. And then too, at that odd, awful juncture of my life, having anyone—even this unattractive boy—so interested in me, so unquestioningly approving of my body, so nakedly attracted to me physically-- well, this was a powerful pump for my uninflated ego. By August I was sunbathing in the nude. I could practically feel Jackson's eyes on my private places, feel them push my thighs apart to give him an unobstructed view of my secet parts. When he had finished drinking me in, he would throw back his head and get this twisted, sweet, goofy, almost spiritual look on his face that told me he had climaxed while staring at my sexual organs. That month I found a house in the canyon above Boulder. There were no next door neighbors, up there; no one would be peeping at me. Somehow that was okay. I spent most of that month packing. I had stopped sunbathing during the week. It was Friday, and I was moving out of my apartment on Sunday. I did something I had never done before. My ex-husband Mark had asked me to, but I had always told him that it would make me look immature, and that it was sick for him to want me to look like a little girl. But, for this last Saturday, I decided to shave off my pubic hair. I wanted to show him, I wanted Jaqckson to really see my privates, to see my full lower lips, to see inside me. On Saturday I was waiting for him. It seemed like I had been waiting forever out there. It was a cloudy day, an unseasonably cool day, the kind of day when no one in her right mind would sunbathe, but nothing could have kept me off that balcony, not even a blizzard. Shivering, I heard him talking to his father; his father had never been around on Saturday afternoons. What if Jackson didn't come out? Or what if his father came out instead? What if ... Then, I head the door in his apartment close and in a few minutes, I saw his dad go out the front door of the building, heading for the parking lot. Jackson appeared. He stood at the railing, leaning over. For the first time he was holding a camera, a digital camera with a big zoom lens, and it was aimed at my hairless crotch. At first, this panicked me. I imagined my image being spread all over the Internet, imagined being the featured nude on a pay-for-view voyeur site. "Click here to see a thirty something shaved slut sunbathing on the balcony next door." I had no interest in being seen by the world; I only wanted Jackson to see me. And yet ... and yet I imagined him looking at these pictures in five years, in ten years, in twenty years, seeing me, my body frozen in time, looking forever as I had looked that summer, my thirty-third summer, never growing older, still as exciting as desirable as I was long ago. I reached for my suntan lotion and poured some into my palm. I rubbed the lotion across my small breasts. My little brown nipples popped up with excitement. I rubbed lotion on my stomach and my thighs. I heard his camera clicking, clicking. I put some more lotion in my palm and spread my legs wide. He was leaning dangerously far over the balcony railing to get the best possible shots. I opened my lower lips so that he could see the entryway into my body. I put a finger inside me, in and out. I was very, very wet in there. I lifted myself up a bit from the chaise lounge, so that my anus was exposed to his sight as well. I didn't want to hold anything back. I wanted to be totally revealed to him. I began tracing circles around my clitoris. It was too sensitive to touch directly but my figners circled it, tickled it, teased it. I knew it would not take long. The intensity of my pleasure heightened, I arched my back, and I had my orgasm. The climax flowed from deep inside me and washed over me. It was wrenching, exhausting, shattering, the closest thing I have ever had to an "all body" orgasm. When I opened my eyes, I was shocked. Jackson was standing in teh nude with one foot on his railing and one on mine. What if someone looked up and saw him? Would they call the police. Would we both be arrested for indecent exposure? My balcony and his was separated only by about two feet, but Jackson was not an athletic young man. He teetered for a second and I feared he'd plunge to the ground three floors below, breaking his neck. How would I feel then? But then but he managed to jumped onto my balcony, landing with an "ooof." He stood over me. I kept my eyes closed though he had to know I wasn't asleep. If he touched me, I wouldn't stop him. I had probably led him to believe that I was interested in sex and I thought it would be wrong and hypocritical of me to stop him. But I hoped it wouldn't come to that. And apparently he understood our unspoken rule, that our relationships was "for the eyes only." He simply stood there, looking down at me. He took a few close-up pictures and then put his camera down and started stroking his penis. My hand was still at my crotch, and I opened my lips wider so that he could see better. His penis was small, and although it was standing straight up, it was only about two inches long, like an aroused little boy's penis. I sensed that he was dying to touch me, that he was struggling not to feel me, but that he realized that physical contact would somehow be a betrayal of our pact. It took him almost no time at all to rub himself to climax. He alternatively squeaked and bellowed with pleasure. His orgasm was a match for the one I'd had moments before. When I was married and didn't feel like making love, I used to let Mark masturbate on me. Somehow it excited him to get his stuff all over me, I think it made him feel somehow superior, but I didn't mind. It was fascinating to me to watch the teaspoon or so of Mark's male fluid come welling out of the tip and dripping down on me. But Jackson's ejaculation was of another order altogether. It seemed like three times as much semen came from his tiny penis as had come from Mark's. The first few drops fired sprayed wildly out of the tip and flew like liquid rockets onto the glass door leading into my apartment. Then a long string fell across my breasts. Somehow several gobs landed in my dark hair. It smelled like mushrooms, He draped another strand across my tummy and more landed on my newly-shaved pubis. There was semen on my cheeks and chin and a pool of semen on my breastbone. My God, somehow there was white stuff on my knees, my feet, and later, I discovered, on my tomato plants and barbecue grill. I wondered if he would ever stop ejaculating. Finally, when just a few last drops were dribbling from his penis, he picked up his camera and took one last picture of my body covered with his semen. I opened my eyes and for the first time, looked right at him. He silently mouthed the words, "Thank you.." I nodded, and silently replied, "No, thank YOU." He wasted no time getting back to his own apartment. The last I ever saw of Jackson was his plump, pink bottom going over his railing. I moved the next day. For months, on weekends, I would think about him. I even though of going back to my old building, knocking on his door, and then stripping naked. I started seeing a therapist, and my relationship with Jackson gave me somethint to talk about for many sessions. My therapist recommened that I forget about Jackson, and move on with my life, and I knew myself that it was time. I started dating one of the teachers at my school and we are going to be married in a few months. But Jackson was a spark in a dark time. I hope he still remembers me, the crazy lady next door who wanted only to be looked at, and only by him. I hope he has saved his photographs of me in some locked, unnamed file in his computer. And I hope he has never shared the story of our secret relationship. On the Balcony 1 It was the end of our third day at Sunrise Beach, a family-oriented resort on the South Carolina coast. We were all having a great time during the day – there were activities for the whole family, and special children's programs that gave parents a chance to go off and scuba dive or wind-sail – but the nights... with all of us in one room, I was missing the sex. Especially after looking at Nicki all day, sexy as even in her mom-appropriate bathing suits. (And yes, we could have snuck back to our room for a quickie while the kids were being watched over by the Seashell Art Instructor, or whoever – but $600 a day, you really don't want to pass on any of the wind-sailing) Just after midnight, we were both restless, and I suggested we sit out on the balcony for a bit. She began to reach for her robe, but I told her not to bother: there was certainly nothing improper about her nightgown. She'd brought it for a family vacation, after all. I was wearing my boxers, but so what? We were going to be alone out there; and even if we weren't, this was a beach resort. I pulled back the heavy curtains – we'd closed them tonight because the full moon was bright enough tonight to light up our hotel room – then slid open the glass door to the balcony, and we went outside. The moon over the ocean was really a sight. The room's balcony was really part of a single balcony that circled the hotel. Each room's section was separated from its neighbor's by a metal railing, and each section had three or four seats. At first we were sitting next to one another, but then I told Nikki to move over here and sit on my lap. This was much nicer, and we sat quietly looking out at the ocean. The beach was empty. "You know," I said, "if the kids weren't inside, I'd take you down to the beach and talk you into skinnydipping with me." "So everybody else sitting on their balconies could watch us?" she asked. "I don't think so." "You're too logical, hun. His balcony's as far from the kids as we can stray, so it's just a fantasy." "You're right," she said. "Hold me." I knew what she meant. She liked it when I wrap my arm around her tummy, just under the rib cage. I'm sure she meant for me to hold her over the nightgown, but I slipped my arm underneath instead. At first she was startled, alarmed that I'd pushed up the front of her nightgown enough to expose her panties; but then she realized that to see her panties, somebody would have to be out over the ocean and five stories high. She snuggled into me, and we both became aware that with the nightgown no longer draped under her, there was nothing between my boxers and her panties. "That's nice," she whispered. "Yeah," I said, using my arm around her belly to pull her closer. "Mmm, that's naughty," she said, feeling my hard dick pushing against her panties. She began grinding herself against my dick. We both looked behind us at the same time, for the same reason: to make sure that the heavy curtain between the balcony and the room was fully closed. Nicki climbed off my lap just long enough to slip her panties down her legs, and when she got back on, my dick was already out of my boxers. With my arm no longer inside it, her nightgown was draped over our sexes, so we'd look perfecly decent to somebody hovering five stories over the ocean – until she started squirming about, letting my dick rub against her pussy lips and clit. She moaned. I moaned. Then I lifted her up just a bit, and allowed my hard dick to slide up her hot, very wet pussy. "Ohh, Goddd." she said softly, telling me she needed this as much as I did. Bracing her arms against the arms of the chair, she began bouncing on my dick. She was getting louder than she probably thought she was, and I did nothing to stop her. I put my hands on her breasts, wishing I could rip off her nightgown right there on the balcony, and hold them naked. I think another minute or so I might have, and she probably would have let me; but then the sliding door from the room next to ours opened, and a couple about our age walked out onto their section of the balcony, he in sleep shorts and she in t-shirt and red panties, the t-shirt barely covering her navel. We froze, trying to look innocent with my dick still deep inside of Nicki. They seemed surprised to see us, gave us quick, friendly nods, and walked over to the railing to look out at the ocean. He whispered something to her, and she laughed and shook her head no. He said something else, she thought about it, and finally nodded. He stepped behind her, she leaned over the railing, and he pulled her panties down her legs and off. The light of the moon was bright enough that I could see, even from ten feet away, that she had a great ass, and I was pretty certain she shaved her pussy. Then, of course, he pulled down his shorts just enough to free his dick, and began fucking her from behind. It was only then that they looked over at us again, to see whether we were watching them. As if there were any question! Tentatively at first, Nicki began bouncing up and down on my dick again. Well, the strangers in the next room were going to fuck right in front of us, why shouldn't we do the same? They were still openly watching us, he fucking her with long, slow strokes, and Nicki forced my dick into her harder and harder. I thrust my hands under her nightgown, grabbing her bare breasts. The nightgown wasn't pushed high enough to expose her breasts, by my dick and Nicki's pussy were now in plain sight. Our neighbors sped up their own fucking, and he grasped the bottom of her t-shirt with one hand and seemed to be about to pull it over her head when suddenly he groaned loudly, cumming hard. He continued fucking her, and a few seconds later she came as well. I squeezed Nicki's breasts hard as I came, and that was enough to put her over the edge. We all became quiet for a moment, Nicki still on my lap, my deflating dick still inside her, the other couple standing only a few yards from us, his sleep shorts pulled back up but she still naked from the waist down. We looked at one another a little hesitantly, then without a word spoken both women grabbed their panties and we all went back into our rooms. 2 "Well, that was... different," Nicki finally whispered when we were back in our bed, the kids of course still fast asleep on the bed next to us. "I can't believe we did that," I said. "I know. Being watched like that..." "It's not something I'd do again, I don't think, but..." "Yeah." "Yeah," I said. "Umm... Nicki..." "I know, me too." And without another word, we went back out to the balcony. I grabbed the hem of Nicki's nightgown and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it onto a chair. She hadn't expected this, but she was okay with it. Naked now, since she'd never put her panties back on, she leaned over the railing between our neighbors' balcony and ours, and I began furiously fucking her. I think at this point we both wished they were out here watching us. 3 And then, with the sound of a sliding door, they were. They both had big grins on their faces when they saw us. And why not? They must have been horny as hell to come out here a second time, and now here's Nicki, naked, her entire upper body including her beautiful breasts on their side of the railing, and me fucking the hell out of her, trying to cum for a second time. "Told you," he said to her, the first words from them we'd clearly heard. She was wearing the short t-shirt and panties, as before. Without hesitating, he pulled off her t-shirt, and then she wriggled out of her panties. I was right: she did have a clean-shaven pussy. He pulled off his shorts and stood behind her complete naked as she leaned over the railing next to us, facing our section of the balcony. He eased his dick into her – no need or time for foreplay, same as with us – and began fucking her hard. We were so close to one another, her breasts were almost brushing up against my side, and Nicki's against his. Each woman came once, maybe twice, while us guys... well, the second time takes a lot longer, you know. And then the woman facing me said, to nobody in particular, "I need him to touch my tits." Nobody reacted, at least not to say no, so I reached over and cupped the left breast of this woman whose name I didn't know, and whom I'd only ever heard speak seven words. And when nobody had a problem with that, I pinched her nipple, hard. She came loudly, especially considering how quiet the night was. He kept fucking her, even faster it seemed, and at the same time brushed his hand over Nicki's breast. Nicki took one hand off the railing and grabbed his wrist. I thought she was going to make him stop touching her, because she hadn't given any such invitation, but instead she pulled his hand closer, forcing him to rub her much harder. She growled softly as she came – and this, plus my fingers still on our neighbor's nipple, was enough to make me shoot another load into my wife's wet pussy. Somewhere along the line, apparently, the other guy, still clutching Nicki's breast, came as well. He and I slowly, reluctantly, removed our hands from the breasts, and we all, quietly, got dressed and returned to our respective rooms. "Wow," Nicki said when we got inside. "Yeah," I said. "Are you okay with what happened?" "I think so. No man but you has ever touched me there, you know. Are you okay with that?" "As long as it didn't go any further, yeah. And we probably should have seen that coming when we went out the second time." "I was just thinking..." Nicki said. "It's going to be so awkward if we run into them on the beach tomorrow..." On the Balcony Ch. 01 Moved over from my previous account so if the same kind people who voted for the previous incarnation vote for this one, that would be grand. I might even finally write Chapter 2 (this story is entirely self-contained, but I'm curious what happens next) ***** 1 It was the end of our third day at Sunrise Beach, a family-oriented resort on the South Carolina coast. We were all having a great time during the day - there were activities for the whole family, and special children's programs that gave parents a chance to go off and scuba dive or wind-sail - but the nights... with all of us in one room, I was missing the sex. Especially after looking at Nicki all day, sexy as even in her mom-appropriate bathing suits. (And yes, we could have snuck back to our room for a quickie while the kids were being watched over by the Seashell Art Instructor, or whoever - but $600 a day, you really don't want to pass on any of the wind-sailing) Just after midnight, we were both restless, and I suggested we sit out on the balcony for a bit. She began to reach for her robe, but I told her not to bother: there was certainly nothing improper about her nightgown. She'd brought it for a family vacation, after all. I was wearing my boxers, but so what? We were going to be alone out there; and even if we weren't, this was a beach resort. I pulled back the heavy curtains - we'd closed them tonight because the full moon was bright enough tonight to light up our hotel room - then slid open the glass door to the balcony, and we went outside. The moon over the ocean was really a sight. The room's balcony was really part of a single balcony that circled the hotel. Each room's section was separated from its neighbor's by a metal railing, and each section had three or four seats. At first we were sitting next to one another, but then I told Nikki to move over here and sit on my lap. This was much nicer, and we sat quietly looking out at the ocean. The beach was empty. "You know," I said, "if the kids weren't inside, I'd take you down to the beach and talk you into skinnydipping with me." "So everybody else sitting on their balconies could watch us?" she asked. "I don't think so." "You're too logical, hun. His balcony's as far from the kids as we can stray, so it's just a fantasy." "You're right," she said. "Hold me." I knew what she meant. She liked it when I wrap my arm around her tummy, just under the rib cage. I'm sure she meant for me to hold her over the nightgown, but I slipped my arm underneath instead. At first she was startled, alarmed that I'd pushed up the front of her nightgown enough to expose her panties; but then she realized that to see her panties, somebody would have to be out over the ocean and five stories high. She snuggled into me, and we both became aware that with the nightgown no longer draped under her, there was nothing between my boxers and her panties. "That's nice," she whispered. "Yeah," I said, using my arm around her belly to pull her closer. "Mmm, that's naughty," she said, feeling my hard dick pushing against her panties. She began grinding herself against my dick. We both looked behind us at the same time, for the same reason: to make sure that the heavy curtain between the balcony and the room was fully closed. Nicki climbed off my lap just long enough to slip her panties down her legs, and when she got back on, my dick was already out of my boxers. With my arm no longer inside it, her nightgown was draped over our sexes, so we'd look perfecly decent to somebody hovering five stories over the ocean - until she started squirming about, letting my dick rub against her pussy lips and clit. She moaned. I moaned. Then I lifted her up just a bit, and allowed my hard dick to slide up her hot, very wet pussy. "Ohh, Goddd." she said softly, telling me she needed this as much as I did. Bracing her arms against the arms of the chair, she began bouncing on my dick. She was getting louder than she probably thought she was, and I did nothing to stop her. I put my hands on her breasts, wishing I could rip off her nightgown right there on the balcony, and hold them naked. I think another minute or so I might have, and she probably would have let me; but then the sliding door from the room next to ours opened, and a couple about our age walked out onto their section of the balcony, he in sleep shorts and she in t-shirt and red panties, the t-shirt barely covering her navel. We froze, trying to look innocent with my dick still deep inside of Nicki. They seemed surprised to see us, gave us quick, friendly nods, and walked over to the railing to look out at the ocean. He whispered something to her, and she laughed and shook her head no. He said something else, she thought about it, and finally nodded. He stepped behind her, she leaned over the railing, and he pulled her panties down her legs and off. The light of the moon was bright enough that I could see, even from ten feet away, that she had a great ass, and I was pretty certain she shaved her pussy. Then, of course, he pulled down his shorts just enough to free his dick, and began fucking her from behind. It was only then that they looked over at us again, to see whether we were watching them. As if there were any question! Tentatively at first, Nicki began bouncing up and down on my dick again. Well, the strangers in the next room were going to fuck right in front of us, why shouldn't we do the same? They were still openly watching us, he fucking her with long, slow strokes, and Nicki forced my dick into her harder and harder. I thrust my hands under her nightgown, grabbing her bare breasts. The nightgown wasn't pushed high enough to expose her breasts, by my dick and Nicki's pussy were now in plain sight. Our neighbors sped up their own fucking, and he grasped the bottom of her t-shirt with one hand and seemed to be about to pull it over her head when suddenly he groaned loudly, cumming hard. He continued fucking her, and a few seconds later she came as well. I squeezed Nicki's breasts hard as I came, and that was enough to put her over the edge. We all became quiet for a moment, Nicki still on my lap, my deflating dick still inside her, the other couple standing only a few yards from us, his sleep shorts pulled back up but she still naked from the waist down. We looked at one another a little hesitantly, then without a word spoken both women grabbed their panties and we all went back into our rooms. 2 "Well, that was... different," Nicki finally whispered when we were back in our bed, the kids of course still fast asleep on the bed next to us. "I can't believe we did that," I said. "I know. Being watched like that..." "It's not something I'd do again, I don't think, but..." "Yeah." "Yeah," I said. "Umm... Nicki..." "I know, me too." And without another word, we went back out to the balcony. I grabbed the hem of Nicki's nightgown and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it onto a chair. She hadn't expected this, but she was okay with it. Naked now, since she'd never put her panties back on, she leaned over the railing between our neighbors' balcony and ours, and I began furiously fucking her. I think at this point we both wished they were out here watching us. 3 And then, with the sound of a sliding door, they were. They both had big grins on their faces when they saw us. And why not? They must have been horny as hell to come out here a second time, and now here's Nicki, naked, her entire upper body including her beautiful breasts on their side of the railing, and me fucking the hell out of her, trying to cum for a second time. "Told you," he said to her, the first words from them we'd clearly heard. She was wearing the short t-shirt and panties, as before. Without hesitating, he pulled off her t-shirt, and then she wriggled out of her panties. I was right: she did have a clean-shaven pussy. He pulled off his shorts and stood behind her complete naked as she leaned over the railing next to us, facing our section of the balcony. He eased his dick into her - no need or time for foreplay, same as with us - and began fucking her hard. We were so close to one another, her breasts were almost brushing up against my side, and Nicki's against his. Each woman came once, maybe twice, while us guys... well, the second time takes a lot longer, you know. And then the woman facing me said, to nobody in particular, "I need him to touch my tits." Nobody reacted, at least not to say no, so I reached over and cupped the left breast of this woman whose name I didn't know, and whom I'd only ever heard speak seven words. And when nobody had a problem with that, I pinched her nipple, hard. She came loudly, especially considering how quiet the night was. He kept fucking her, even faster it seemed, and at the same time brushed his hand over Nicki's breast. Nicki took one hand off the railing and grabbed his wrist. I thought she was going to make him stop touching her, because she hadn't given any such invitation, but instead she pulled his hand closer, forcing him to rub her much harder. She growled softly as she came - and this, plus my fingers still on our neighbor's nipple, was enough to make me shoot another load into my wife's wet pussy. Somewhere along the line, apparently, the other guy, still clutching Nicki's breast, came as well. He and I slowly, reluctantly, removed our hands from the breasts, and we all, quietly, got dressed and returned to our respective rooms. "Wow," Nicki said when we got inside. "Yeah," I said. "Are you okay with what happened?" "I think so. No man but you has ever touched me there, you know. Are you okay with that?" "As long as it didn't go any further, yeah. And we probably should have seen that coming when we went out the second time." "I was just thinking..." Nicki said. "It's going to be so awkward if we run into them on the beach tomorrow..." ***** Chapter 2: They Run Into Them Tomorrow (bet you wouldn't have seen THAT coming) On the Balcony Ch. 2 Tonin left the building with a smile on his face. He couldn't believe his luck. It had been three weeks since that sultry morning on the beach when he had first met Sara and they had devoured each other's bodies in a daring display of sexual passion. He had been back to the beach often since then but he had not seen her again - until now. He had been at yet another software release presentation when he had seen her. Their eyes had met but before he could talk with her, a man in a business suit had whisked her away. Tonin had been devastated before he realized that she had left a note for him on a table she had been standing next to. Tonin opened the note and read it again as he made his way back to his office. sarapark69@hotmail.com He entered his office and closed the door behind him. Sitting at his desk, he launched Internet Explorer and went to Hotmail. His Inbox had the usual collection of junk mail in it: Free yourself of debt now, Enlarge your Penis today, Naked college girls. He selected them all and deleted them. He clicked on the Compose button and typed in her email address. He typed "hello" into the subject field. He started typing a message but deleted it. He tried again. "Hello. It was good to see you again. I would like to meet with you soon if possible," he wrote. He read it. He read it again. A bit lame but... He clicked on the Send button before he could change his mind. Now he would have to wait for her reply. He wasn't good at waiting. The afternoon passed with extreme slowness. He had checked his email many times but there was no reply from Sara, just more fucking junk mail. He decided that he would try one more time before riding the 10 kilometers to his home. One new email. He opened his Inbox and saw a single email with the subject "hello back". His hands were shaking as he clicked on the email. "hi tonin, meet me at the number 17 bus stop near the corner of Seaview and Light Streets at 10.15pm tomorrow (Tuesday). Bring your mobile phone. Oh...and what's your mobile number." His heart was pounding in his chest as he replied. He slept little that night and managed even less work the following day. The night was still warm when he started his ride at 9.45. As usual, he was dressed in the least amount of clothes possible: shoes, socks, t-shirt and shorts. He didn't wear underwear when he was riding, partly because it was less sweaty without underwear, but mostly because he liked the feeling of his balls against the seat and the way his cock moved against his shorts. Tonin had been riding his bike around the coastal suburbs for nearly 30 years - he didn't have a car license - so he was familiar with the meeting place. Twenty minutes later he was standing on the beach side of the bus stop waiting. For the next 10 minutes he paced back and forth wondering if she would show. He decided to check the time on his mobile (he didn't wear a watch). The fluorescent green screen lit up: 10.14. He was still holding his phone when it's electronic ring tone pierced the still night air. "Hello," he said. "It's me," came the female voice. "Move to the road side of the bus stop," she said. Tonin did as he was told and began to look around for her. He couldn't see her. "Stand in between the two bushes near the road," the mobile commanded. There were two, dense bushes, both over two meters tall, near the curb. He was starting to wonder what was going on but he did as she had requested. There was still no sign of her. Then a thought came to him. How did she know which side of the bus stop he had been standing on? She must be somewhere near. "Your not looking in the right direction," she said, "look across the road". The house across the road was a two storey, rectangular building, with wide windows and a balcony at the top. She stood on the balcony, a soft, down light overhead illuminating her. She was wearing a singlet top that just reached her midriff and a pair of high-cut satin panties. "Very nice," he said into his phone. "Take off your shirt," she said. He took off his shirt, his hands shaking slightly. He watched as she put her phone on a nearby table. She slowly lifted the bottom of her tank top so that her boobs became visible. Now she moved her hands over her tits, stroking her nipples, which even from Tonin's distance, were obviously hard. After a short time she picked up her phone. "Take off your shorts." By now he was completely under her spell, and the fact that his cock was now upright didn't deter him from removing his shorts. Sara moved one hand down the front of her panties. Tonin could imagine her fingers sliding through her pubic hair and slipping inside her cunt and his hand involuntarily grasped his throbbing cock. She now had her back to him and with infinite slowness was sliding her knickers over her lovely arse. Down her long legs they slid until they reached the ground. She stepped out of her underwear and bent very low to pick them up. As she bent, her legs moved apart giving Tonin an amazing view of her arse and the pubic hair between her legs. His hand was now moving slowly on his cock and his breathing had become heavy. She moved to edge of the balcony, and then to Tonin's shock, she dropped her panties onto the ground below. She picked up her phone and in her best damsel in distress voice said "Oh my, I seem to have dropped my underwear. Who will retrieve them for me?". "That's sounds like a job for me. I'll just put my shorts on," Tonin said. "No. I want you just the way you are," she said. Tonin gathered up his clothes, made sure the road was clear, then dashed naked across the road. Once on the front lawn he picked up Sara's panties. He ran his fingers over the satin and held them up to his face, smelling her on them. He wanted her so bad. He looked up at her but he saw worried look on her face. "A car is coming," she said. He quickly dashed behind the side wall of the house, waiting for the car to pass. But it didn't pass. Instead it stopped right outside Sara's house. ....Tonin and Sara's story will continue with "On the back lawn (Tonin part 3)".