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We Don't Need No Stinkin' Curtains!

By: AceStroker



I have this remarkably good looking woman who lives across the street from me. She really loves her husband. I can tell, because when she talks to him, she always does it with an emphatic amount of volume in a very impassioned way so that even I can hear it from my house with the window closed while down in the basement. I love noisy women. Apparently so does her husband, because he responds the same way each time to her boisterous chattering: a vigorous shaking of his head with steam coming out his ears, while ejaculating loud and urgent bursts to the contrary of anything she says. Oh, and for the dirty-minded individuals who might be reading this, there are two versions of the word ejaculate. I was of course using the other less offensive definition. This isn't base porn or anything we're writing here. 

Okay, so I might have lied about that last part. 

But even though they both yell constantly at each other with considerable strain and amplitude (a sure sign they've been married for more than five years), they actually do have redeeming qualities. For one, as I mentioned, she is a true hottie. But they also have the incredibly persistent ability to forget to close their bedroom curtains. And by forgetting to close their bedroom curtains, I should really say they never bothered purchasing curtains for their bedroom in the first place! I get to see it all, and constantly. Undressing, folding laundry while topless, blabbing on the phone while topless, doing everything while topless, you name it. I've even watched her fondle her breasts in the mirror when she gets up in the morning. And because despite not having curtains they still decide to leave the lights on when getting intimate, I get to see every possible sex act known to mankind on a nightly basis. As a result I disconnected my broadband, because the porn across the street is free, and it is real, as are the swaying breasts. That saves me $34.95 per month, which of course I use up on lotion and tissues anyways, so it's a wash.

Now, for those who have read my other writings, it is no secret that I am one of the biggest exhibitionists on the planet. I know my trade, and the saying in our trade goes: it takes one to know one. Let me tell you, these folks are first ballot hall of fame exhibitionists. I mean, lights on, and no curtains at all, with huge windows that go down below the waist so you can see every damned thing? I worship their brazen boldness. I once awarded them the 2001 Most Obvious Exhibitionist of The Year award. That is not to say I am complaining in anyway, I would wholly advise that all hotties out there learn from these folks and scrap their curtains.

My neighbors are insatiable animals when it comes to what happens in their bed. And with the lights on I get to see it all. Cunnilingus, fellatio, titty fucking, handjobs, facials, doggy style, penguin style, etc etc etc. I'm not even going to go into the time I saw her with a strapon... They are diverse in their sex acts on a nightly basis, so each evening that I tune in I never know what new show they have in store for me. The one downside of having neighbors this frisky, frequent and blatant, is that it is hard to watch the end of any game. As a northern New Jersey male, you have no idea how difficult it is to decide if I should watch the final two minutes of the tied Giants-Cowboys game, or catch the score on the radio later so I can see her butt up in the air as she gets pounded from behind by her husband with reckless abandon. I haven't watched the end of many games lately. I can live with that.

Fortunately we both live at the end of a dead end street so I am the only one who can look into their window like this. Which is good because it keeps some jealous wife from calling the police on them because she caught her husband with his willie out while looking at Mrs. Hottie across the way. I once thought of calling the police on them myself. My friend is a cop, and I'm sure he'd love to see her in the nude doing all these nasty things. But then the two of us haven't talked in a while. Whenever he calls me, I'm in the middle of watching the neighbors bonking, and can't come to the phone right now. Please leave your name and a short message after the beep, and I might get back to you after I clean all this ejaculate up... unless of course they are beginning round two, in which case I'll talk to you tomorrow.

I've always wondered which would be hotter to watch, a gorgeous blond doing all manner of things with her husband, or a gorgeous blond doing all manner of things to herself when he isn't around. I've recently discovered I don't give a shit what manner of things she is doing to whomever, as long as she is still doing it, because either way she has my undivided attention. A few months ago I realized that an hour or so after they have wild sex, and he's upstairs sleeping, she goes down to the computer room, gets naked and masturbates to erotica on the internet. The web page layout on her laptop monitor looks eerily similar to Literotica.com. If it indeed is Literotica that she is visiting, then she/you could well be reading your own neighbor's story right now. So if she/you are a hot blond with an English accent, live on a dead end street and have a single guy next door with a beard and big binoculars permanently attached to his face, please give me/him a call. He wants to thank you for the show.

We Don't Need No Stinkin' Curtains! Ch. 02



In Part One of this little adventure, I introduced you very briefly to my two neighbors, who far and away are the most blatant pair of exhibitionists I've ever enjoyed living across the street from. I admit, I should have gone into more detail of exactly what they did, how they did it, and how many different things they did. Because let me tell you, they do it all, right there in the open, with the lights on, and without any curtains on their bedroom windows at all. So allow me to go more fully into the sexual antics of my sexy blonde neighbor and her husband.

I've been enjoying their nightly sexcapades for nearly a year now. I'm sure they figured out long ago that without any curtains on their windows, I can see everything they do. I'm also certain they've picked up on the fact that my lights always seem to go out right when they start putting on a show. Two weeks ago when I got home from work, there was an envelope in my mailbox, with nothing written on the front, not even a stamp or my address. When I got inside and opened this curious bit of mail up, it contained just a small sheet, with only one line, obviously written in a female's flowing handwriting: "I know you watch."

I paused for a moment after reading this unusually laconic note, scratching my head in the process. The word "watch" being the keyword in this short sentence, it took me a few moments to realize whom this must be from: my exhibitionist neighbor across the street. But what would possess her to send me a note like this? I quickly rushed to the window to look across the street at their house, and as soon as I looked out I saw a figure slip away from their bedroom window. I knew then that it was she who sent me the letter, and her figure at the window was her way of letting me know that she knew I got her letter. That sent a jolt of testosterone through my body.

Now I understand what "I know you watch" means. It means she knows I watch when they/she/you does all those nasty things with the lights on and curtains off. But what precisely did she mean by it, and why did she send the letter? Was she actually taking the next step in our little voyeur game by letting me know she enjoyed the fact that I watched? It could conversely be a direct warning to me: hey perv, stop being a perv and respect the exhibitionist perv across the street's privacy, you bastard! This of course made no sense being that they were such ridiculously obvious exhibitionists, but then you never know with some people. Humans are not a logical species. So I was quite in a quandary here with how to take this note. 

As I ate my microwaved macaroni and cheese for dinner, I kept peering out at the street, almost expecting a cop car to pull up to the door and arrest me for looking in my neighbor's windows. As I wolfed down my bachelor noodles (i.e. macaroni and cheese), I quickly composed a defense tactic in case I should be hauled into court to stand trial for this heinous crime, "But your Honor, they don't have any frickin' curtains on their windows, and she's really hot. What was I supposed to do?" Admittedly, if it was a female judge, I'd need a new angle. Unless of course this judge had lesbian tendencies, but then I digress...

As it turned out, my fears of being arrested, or at the very least, drawing my exhibitionist neighbor's ire, turned out to be unfounded. She merely wanted me to get turned on by knowing she knew I watched. How did I come to this conclusion? As I finished the last of my bachelor noodles, I was on my way to the TV to watch Gilmore Girls. I never got that far, because across the street my neighbor's bedroom light turned on at just that moment. And there in the middle of the room stood this completely naked beautiful lady, a hand cupping one breast, and the other hand doing some busy things between her legs. Female masturbation? I did what any normal man would do: I quickly pulled up a chair and grabbed my binoculars.

The scene that followed was an interesting one. I admit, I've been so busy looking in their windows every night since they moved in, I never did get a chance to catch their names. So for convenience I'll just call her Blondie, or Hottie, and I'll interchangeably call him either her husband, or "that lucky S.O.B." At any rate, she was standing there clearly playing with herself, her ample boobs being massaged by one hand while her delectable nether areas were being attended to with great effect by the digits of her other hand. From what I could tell, she seemed to be an experienced veteran at this maneuver. It took me a few moments to realize that off to her side, lying on the bed, was the aforementioned lucky S.O.B. husband, naked, erect, and stroking himself. They were having a nice mutual masturbation session - and they knew damned well I was watching them!

After a few minutes of this reciprocal fun, her fingers were flying around in ever faster circles on her love button, and it wasn't long before she started to shake, wobble, shimmy, and roll. She seemed barely able to remain standing upright as a mighty orgasm consumed her luscious body. As amazing a sight as this was for me to see, I cursed my fate that I couldn't hear a single sound she made throughout this entire wonderful moment. Remind me to install that microphone in their bedroom the next time they're not home.

After her orgasm subsided, she looked down at her husband, still busily stroking himself, eyes quite big from the sight in front of him. She began to wag her tongue at him, as if edging him on, and then got down on her knees, mouth wide open. He quickly got the hint (and so did I!), and he jumped off the bed, stood firmly before Blondie, and began wanking himself furiously until he shot his copious load all over her cute English face. Lucky S.O.B. She looked up at him with an evil grin, and then got up and kissed him with her cum filled lips. He then walked out of the room to clean up.

Alone in the bedroom now, she turned directly toward the window, standing there for a moment as my binocular aided eyes could see the ejaculate all over her face. She was intentionally letting me see this. Finally for effect, she wiped a good bit off with her finger, and very deliberately licked it up. A big smile took her face as she looked out the window, then she turned away, and the lights went out. Wow. I'm in love.

Is there anyone on the planet who wouldn't be able to figure out what I did next? Hello lotion, I'd like you to meet Mr. Hand and Mr. Penis. You've all met before? Splendid! Well, have at it boys, and don't spare the horses. To say the least, it got quite noisy for a while in my house, particularly when it came to "O" time. No sooner did I stop my panting then I heard the phone ring, once. Just once. I knew exactly who it was. While she couldn't see me jerking it there by the window (my lights were still off), she was letting me know she knew full well what I was doing at that moment, and what drove me to it.

The next day I found myself in the pharmacy to purchase some, well, hand lotion. Why? You figure it out there, Sherlock. Turning into an aisle, who should I find facing me but my neighbor exhibitionist hottie. It took me a minute to get my eyes off her breasts so I could say hello. I hadn't seen them up close like that before, and was intrigued by this thing called clothing which was covering them, something I normally didn't see her wearing in her own house. Up close I realized how stunning and beautiful a face she had. That was fortunate too, because it enabled me to take my eyes off her breasts, so we could actually converse in a considerably less awkward fashion. Her English accent was a pleasure to listen to as well. We exchanged cordialities and we introduced ourselves. To be honest, my heart was pounding too much and my eyes were too busy taking in the eye candy, so whatever names she gave for herself and her husband, those names went in one ear and out the other just as fast, so I never did learn their names. Thus, I'll stick with Blondie and Lucky S.O.B. for the remainder of this story.

After a while of chatting, I saw her look down at the bottle of lotion in my hand. She paused for a second, clearly thinking about it, and all at once the light went on in her head. She grinned to herself as if to say, "Did he really come here just to buy lotion to get off with?" She realized I saw that look on her face and she blushed slightly as a result. It was an awkward moment. Despite our Voyeur/Exhibitionist nightly shows since she moved in, we didn't know each other at all. Trying to be witty and ease out of this situation in a graceful, though a suggestive way, I responded to her questioning look, "I always like to keep a good supply of this stuff around the house, I never know when I'll need it."

Fortunately, she laughed at this, so I knew I hadn't overstepped my bounds. We both went our separate ways through the store, and coincidentally wound up on line at the checkout together, me in front, her behind. I know, it would have sounded better the other way. I'm sure she couldn't help but notice that I had picked up a second item to go along with my lotion: a box of tissues. Oh, I'm good. When I put the lotion and tissues on the counter, the young girl behind the register did a double take, gave me a weird look, and said sarcastically, "Is that all?"

She wasn't trying to be funny, but it evinced laughter from both myself and Blondie behind me, which gave the girl an even more uncomfortable expression. Grabbing my bag with those two essential items, seeing that expression not yet gone from the young cashier's face, I stuck my thumb over my shoulder pointing at my neighbor and said to the girl, "Don't worry, she's just buying a back massager and a lifetime supply of batteries." That one received a rather stern smack to the back of my head. I got the hint, said good day to the two of them, and left the store.

Back at my house that night I wolfed down a bowl of more bachelor noodles, and as I was getting up to go watch Gilmore Girls again, I saw a car coming out of my neighbor's driveway. It was Lucky S.O.B. going somewhere for the night. I paused for a minute by the window, hoping with all my mind that he had left hot British Blondie alone for the night. As soon as he was out of sight, her bedroom light turned on, almost on cue; I was in luck. She was standing there in nothing more than bra and panties, or do the English call them knickers? 

At any rate, considering the curiously devilish exchange we had enjoyed at the store earlier in the day, I decided it was my turn to put on the show. I knew that since we had left the store, Blondie must be wondering about that lotion and box of tissues I had bought, and when I would use them next. I felt that as a good neighbor it was my responsibility to help solve her curiosity as soon as possible, by showing off of course. It had been a while since I had enjoyed a really good exhibitionist experience, as the one showing off that is, so I had a bit of nervousness and hesitation, though that hesitation proved fleeting as I glanced back at the scantily clad hottie across the way.

Making sure my curtains were completely wide open, I turned on the bedroom light. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her standing in her own bedroom, still in her underwear, curiously looking in my direction now that my own bedroom light had gone on. I pulled out the lotion from the shopping bag, and held it up where she could clearly see it, pretending to be looking at the label. A moment later I put down the bottle and help up the tissue box, taking my time to open it. Having shown her the very two items she had seen me purchase earlier in the day, I then slowly removed my shirt. Instantly her bedroom light went out. However with her hallway light on, I could see by her silhouette that she was now standing in her dark bedroom, looking out the window at me. I had a captive audience, and the show was on!

Slowly down came my jeans, until I was in nothing but my briefs. I walked around the room a bit like this, intentionally teasing her, even bending over a time or two. I several times lightly touched my crotch, then finally stuck a hand down inside my underwear and felt myself for about 10 seconds. A furtive glance over to her bedroom showed her still standing at her window watching. All systems go, I slowly pulled down my underwear, and for the first time showed her my goodies, my penis at this point being half erect. I gave her a profile view, and let my penis slowly rise on its own until it was pointing at the ceiling. Then and only then did I pick up the lotion, put a big smattering of the stuff on my hand, and reached down to grab my cock. I nearly came at the idea that I was now masturbating in front of my neighbor's hot wife.

Masturbating when you know you have a very attentive and attractive audience makes it a thousand times more erotic. I tried to go as slowly as I could to make this pleasurable show last, but each time I stole a glance, I could see her standing at her darkened window looking back at what I was doing to myself. Seeing her watching me like this, I couldn't help but pick up the pace as the intensity of my horniness grew. I would say I lasted nearly 10 minutes, a worthy effort considering I nearly shot my load the second I touched myself. With the idea of her watching me I shot my load all over the place. There's just something about having a woman watch me do that to myself which really makes me cum like crazy. What a delightful mess that causes.

Act One of my little show having been achieved, I grabbed the box of newly purchased tissues she was now so familiar with, and deliberately cleaned up my dick, hands, rug, table and ceiling using far more tissues than I actually needed to. No sooner was I "cleaned up" then I noticed her bedroom light had turned back on. Taking my cue, I quickly shut off my own bedroom light and grabbed the binoculars. It was my turn to watch her.

She sat on the corner of the bed now, facing the window. Gone were all her undergarments; she had obviously shed them while watching me play with myself, a rather erotic thought. Like the previous night, one hand was alternating grabbing each breast, and the other was busily going at it between her legs. The second she started touching herself, I could see what a frenzy she was already in. There was no delicate, romantic touching to get in the mood, this was full-blown masturbation. Her fingers were going hot and heavy all over her love button, and her body was responding likewise. The look on her face was simply wonderful. She was staring off into space, looking at nothing in particular, intent on getting herself off knowing she was being watched by a guy with sperm all over his hands. I could see her occasionally steal a glance out the window at my place.

I guess my little show must have turned her on quite a lot, because it did not take her long to have an orgasm, her legs suddenly closing upon her busy hand, her head drooping down, and her body quivering for a nice long time. She sat in that position relishing in the moment for about thirty seconds, and then collapsed back onto the bed. Her legs opened up, giving me and my binoculars a perfect view of her pussy. Yes, it glistened from her wetness, and I was instantly hard again. However, I'm of the philosophy that less is more. There would be other nights to show off. As she lay there motionless on her bed, stark naked, her phone suddenly rang, once. Just once. I saw her put her hands to her face either in laughter or embarrassment. She knew it was me calling, mimicking what she had done to me the previous night after I had finished wanking.

Moments later, her husband Lucky S.O.B. returned home. As he walked into the bedroom, he was met by his hot and horny wife at the door, dripping and naked. She quickly kneeled down, and without any warning yanked down his zipper, pulled his soft penis out and quickly stuffed it in her mouth. Oh, the surprised and pleasant look on his face! She bobbed back and forth with reckless abandon, him supporting himself on the doorframe. I could see by her upper arm that she was again furiously diddling her clitoris while she sucked him off. Her intense horniness clearly was not lost on him, and he very quickly came in her mouth. Did he have any idea what had made his wife so horny? 

She stood up to give him a kiss with her cum soaked mouth, and I saw him slip his softening dick back into his zipper and leave the room. Like with last night, she walked up to the window and opened her mouth so I could see the sperm all over her lips. This time, she actually gave me a brief wave, and then her lights went out. The lotion got a second work out that night, there in the dark. There was a lot of panting and moaning, and a good dose of tissue usage afterwards. I swear, I'm never moving from this place. 



We Don't Need No Stinkin' Curtains! Ch. 03



I will admit, my purchase of only tissues and lotion at the pharmacy the previous day in front of my neighbor, and the use of them that night for her viewing pleasure was a stroke of genius, no pun intended. I had by now figured out that she was a very sexually inventive woman in her own right. How much of this was her Lucky S.O.B. husband's idea I can't quite say, though I'm sure he probably went right along with it.

The next night when I got home from work, I paused at the mailbox for a moment before opening it. Two days earlier Blondie had stuck a letter in there that said, "I know you watch." So I didn't know what else I might find in the box. When I grabbed my mail I noticed with curiosity that none of it was addressed to me. The names Erika and Roger White did not at first ring a bell, and the address on the label was 7 Pervert Drive. I live on 6 Pervert Drive. Looking across the road at my exhibitionist neighbors' mailbox, I saw a 7 painted on the side of it. Wow, I now finally knew their names, and didn't have to call them Blondie and Lucky S.O.B. any longer. 

Considering that Blondie had mischievously put a note in my mailbox two days prior, had she intentionally put her own mail in my box so that I'd have to ring their doorbell and give it to them? Or was this just an honest postal mistake? Regardless of the answer I couldn't very well keep their mail, so I decided to give a little knock on their door. Lucky S.O.B., I mean Roger, answered the door. We said hello, I handed him his mail, and he invited me inside almost immediately. I can read faces, and it seemed to me his was giving away that this errant mail was no mistake on the postman's part.

The Whites who reside at 7 Pervert Drive apparently have a nice touch of style when it comes to interior decorating. Unfortunately, I have no taste for such things, so it would be complete futility for me to try to describe their living room to you. Suffice to say, it was a million times better than what I had in my place. You can very easily tell which house doesn't have a woman living in it.

Speaking of women, the charming, beautiful and damned hot Blondie, er... Mrs. Erika White, made her appearance into the room. "Ah, hello Mark!" she said, for Mark is my name, "Nice to see you again."

"Again?" interjected her husband with a curious look.

"Yes," Erika replied as she glanced over at me with a suggestive look, "Mark and I chanced to meet at the pharmacy yesterday."

And again that night naked from each of our bedrooms, I wondered if she had filled him in on that part as well. If so, neither of them was letting on. Roger was sitting in a black leather easy chair, and his loving wife stood behind him, leaning on the back of the chair. Roger and I soon fell into a general discussion about the neighborhood and about what each one did for a living. 

It was a few moments of this trivial talk until I realized with a gasp that Blondie Erika was standing behind him calmly applying some moisturizing lotion to her hands! She was very demonstratively rubbing it in, one finger at a time, her hands held up high enough so that I could see this. She was looking at me while doing this, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. But there was no mistaking that she was making a silent comment on the item I had purchased at the pharmacy yesterday, and what I had done with it when I got home. I couldn't help but let out a small grin in recognition.

With these thoughts flying around in my head, it was becoming difficult to concentrate on my chat with Roger. The task became even more difficult when I saw her pick up a tissue and clean each one of her fingers off in that same deliberate fashion; still looking back at me with that nothing out of the ordinary look on her face. I'll give it to Blondie, she is a real pro at this teasing game. Hand lotion and tissues being the very things she saw me purchase and then wank off with yesterday, her suggestive actions with the two items were too much for my attentive hormones, and I soon realized I had a full erection in my pants. I also noticed her begin "sneaking" looks at my bulge, some of them very lingering in nature. No doubt she recognized my erection as proof that I got the hint about what she was doing.

Now, Roger had probably said something really important about going golfing sometime, or giving me his home number in case of emergency, or even perhaps to watch out for the rabid bear that had killed someone three streets down. But even though he was the one speaking, his devious wife now had my attention. Her lotion application now done, I only then realized she had a very thin top on, with no bra underneath. The shape of her breasts was exquisite, and her nipples were very much poking through the thin fabric in an unmistakable manner. 

While I would have loved to stay and chat with Roger, his wife was tormenting me too much. My dick was rock hard, the bulge obviously visible to both of them, and I could feel pre-cum beginning to accumulate in my underwear. The thought of sitting there with a wet spot forming on my pants was too much for me to take, and I had to pretend I had important things to do tonight and hastily excused myself to go home. They had to have a good chuckle about it after I left. What a devilish tease she was being, and he was a great supporting actor. 

I thought about the lotion on her hands, the tissue wiping it off, no bra, and pointy nipples, as well as her repeatedly gazing down at the bulge in my pants that she knew she had caused. Erika was inside my head now, and I was lusting after her completely. I needed to get her out of my brain somehow, she's a married woman, dammit! So I did the only thing I knew that could possibly kill my sex drive: I began cleaning my house. Try as I might, vacuuming the peanut shells off the rug didn't help, so I mopped the bathroom floor instead. I could now see the tile on the floor again, but the boner was still there, and my brain was still fixated on Blondie. Cleaning not getting her off my wanton mind, I tried to do my taxes. I quickly found I couldn't concentrate on taxes either, the only number I could think of was 7 Pervert Drive. Well, that and the amount of times I had seen Erika White naked. 

Chores and taxes not being enough to conquer my horny lust for Blondie, I decided to get out the old lotion and take care of things. Maybe that would help. But on the way to my play, I saw my two neighbors outside on the front lawn at twilight, arguing something awful. Now I've mentioned before that she is a screamer, and Erika's temper and yelling are powerful enough to shake the very foundations of the house. What they were arguing about doesn't matter, probably some marital spat of how he didn't cut the grass well enough (I say that because she kept pointing at the lawn demonstratively). After a minute of very animated discussion, she threw up her hands in display and stormed back inside, poor Roger was left shaking his head, and cursing under his breath.

I don't know if all male minds work this way, or if it is just my own selfishly perverted brain. But I was afraid that this little marital spat would put an end to any potential erotic nooky by them tonight, meaning of course that my binoculars and I would be cheated out of another fine display by my neighbors in their bedroom. A good many of you are probably shaking your heads at this and calling me a pig. But if you got to see what I get to see across the street every night, you'd think this way too!

With these selfish thoughts in mind, I went and scraped together some leftovers from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator (the only one that had any food on it, so I didn't have a lot of choices here). After dispatching with this spartan dinner, I was now convinced there would be no nooky across the street for me to watch. So I decided I might finally catch up on that thing called sports which I had so neglected because of Blondie's nightly shows. So on my way to the TV to watch some baseball, I was astounded to see my neighbors' bedroom light on. Quickly reaching for the binocs and a chair, I then essayed to figure out if there was anything worth watching - in their bedroom window I mean, not on my television!

My neighbors over at 7 Pervert Drive are consistent if nothing else: some form of sex all the time. I'd have thought by the view before me that they hadn't just had an enormous fight on the front lawn. She was sitting clothed on the edge of the bed while he stood right in front of her, pants pulled down, wanking away furiously. At times she would start feeling his balls, or reaching behind for his ass. This little show didn't take long, and it ended up with a very nice facial. She just looked up at him with a wicked smile, and licked her lips. They both walked out of the bedroom, and turned off the lights. This one sided quickie done, a mere two minutes later his car was leaving the driveway. He left her home alone, just like last night.

Seconds later the phone rang. It was Erika. She said she just got to checking her mail, and realized the mailman had put "some of your stuff in my box." Her exact words. I would love to put my stuff in Blondie's box! She asked me to come over and pick it up. On my way over it dawned on me that she was asking me to come over when Lucky SOB was out. Ideas raced through my head as to why. She had just watched her husband jerk off, and received a facial out of it, but hadn't been satisfied herself. Was she calling me over to get something started? She was a married woman. It was one thing doing stuff with the curtains open while the other watched, but quite another thing sleeping with my neighbor's wife! So as I crossed the street I mulled this over with caution.

As soon as she opened the door, I realized it was nothing of the sort. How very well scripted this little exhibitionist episode was on their part. There she was standing at the doorway, wearing the same clothes as before, without a bra, nipples poking out. But on top of that, she had never bothered cleaning her husband's ejaculate off her face! It had cleared up and most had run down her face, but I could still see it, and smell it. Blobs of it had begun soaking into her top in noticeable puddles. To say the least I was speechless. She knew I had watched her getting the facial from my window; now she was letting me see the results up close, which also afforded her the chance to get a good look at my reaction.

Some women don't seem to understand why guys are so into giving women facials. I have no idea either, outside of saying it just looks so incredibly hot! The fact that a woman just let some guy shoot his male fluid all over her pretty face is so erotic. And now seeing it on Erika's face and clothes up close had me speechless. Once again acting with pure nonchalance, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary sprayed all over her face, she let me gawk for a few moments - and gawk I did. Then she handed me my mail with a calm smile, my hands trembling as I grabbed it from her. As soon as I had my mail, she abruptly ended the show by saying goodnight and closing the door. Not a word exchanged about what was on her face, played just the way she wanted. Her mood the entire time so calm, I was convinced she must be a professional actress.

With a raging hard on again in my pants, I raced back home. From my window I espied her bedroom light turn on, and she paced around a bit, sperm still all over her face, obviously showing it off to me again. Finally she got a tissue, and facing the window slowly wiped it off her face and chest. Then standing right next to the window, Blondie picked up some lotion and began applying it to her fingers the same suggestive way she had done earlier when I was in their house. This was clearly a message to me. So I stood up, and turned on the bedroom light. No sooner did my light turn on, then hers went off. With her hall light on I could see her silhouette by the window. That was my cue.

Having just had her show me her facial up close and in person, I was too turned on to drag this out for her in a slow tease. I quickly stripped like the horny guy I was, and hastily grabbed for the lotion. My dick was dripping pre-cum before the pants even hit the floor. Lathering up my hand, I grabbed my cock and instantly started jerking off, knowing she was at the window watching me. After a minute of this show, I was interrupted by the phone again. I picked it up and to my surprise found Erika on the other end!

"Hello, Mark, sorry to bother you again," she began matter of factly, as if she wasn't at that very moment watching me stroke myself, "I was just wondering what with this mail being placed in the wrong boxes, if this sort of thing happens often? I'd like to see if we could get that addressed with the postal service if it's been a problem in the past."

Put yourself in my position. This woman just coaxed you into masturbating in front of your window so she could watch. One minute after you start wanking for her, she calls on the phone to talk about something else. What was I supposed to do here, stop stroking and cover up, or keep going? This exhibitionist stuff is a very touchy thing, living on the edge of excitement at the risk of getting in serious trouble. Why would she call me while watching me wank? For as horny as I had been a second ago, I went limp dicked over this puzzling question, which instant flaccidness I knew she could see. She had me in her power here. I finally assumed she just wanted to heighten this little game of hers by talking to me while watching me masturbate. So I started stroking my dick again until it grew full to size, as I tried to answer her question and keep this conversation going. Talking with her while stroking was a very erotic concept! The one thing about being a voyeur, is that you don't hear the sounds of sex. Now that she had called, she could obviously hear the squishy stroking sounds and the tone of arousal in my voice. 

And so there I stood in front of the window, masturbating for a woman across the way who was also listening to me doing it. Over the course of our phone conversation she never once alluded to what I was doing to myself in front of my window, and never commented on the masturbatory sounds that she was obviously hearing over the phone. Erika was proving once again to be an expert at the subtle nuance. By not speaking about the cum on her face, or me sitting there in plain sight masturbating for her while we talked on the phone, neither of us was admitting it was happening. And that's what made it all the more erotic. 

As I started to get closer to orgasm, it of course became more labored for me to talk and pay attention to what she was saying. She could sense it, and quite by intention started asking questions that required longer answers from me than just yes and no. I struggled through a few answers like that, but I was on the verge of coming. She timed it perfectly, because right as I was about to cum, I heard the obvious sound of a vibrator turning on, held right by the phone so she knew I could hear it. A second later the sound grew fainter, and I heard a quiet moan come from her lips. There in the darkness she was putting the vibrator on her clit, knowing that I couldn't see her, but could hear her. One more sigh from her and I exploded. Even though I knew she was watching me jerk off, had called me just to hear me jerk off, and knew I was on the verge of orgasm, I felt guilty about making a bunch of orgasmic grunts over the phone, fearing I'd come across as a perverted pig. So I tried my best, half successful, to stifle my noises. But the sounds that did slip out coupled by her perfect view of me from her window gave away my orgasm. She certainly couldn't have missed my sperm flying out.

There was a ten second pause on both our ends until she hastily said, "I'm sorry, I have another call coming in Mark, nice talking with you." 

With that, she abruptly hung up. Her bedroom light did not go on, but I still saw her silhouette at the window. It was clear she was masturbating there in the dark, knowing I knew what she was doing, but frustrated that I couldn't actually see it. What a tease! Standing there naked myself with cum all over my hand, I merely made a show of cleaning myself up with the tissues, then got dressed again.

The past two nights we had sort of worked out a routine that when one's light went on, the other's went off and vice versa. So figuring this is what she was waiting for, I turned mine off and grabbed the binocs, waiting to see her light turn on so I could see her playing with her vibe. But she didn't let me see. I could only see the silhouette of her frame at the window, though I could tell by her posture that she was masturbating. After a few minutes of this half show, I could see her moving around a bit more, and then walk out of the room completely. She had given me ever so bit of a show, but intentionally not enough that I could see anything. She had me in her spell, and I was hard again. It didn't occur to me until later that I should have called her back so that I could hear her getting off too.

With Blondie out of her bedroom, I passed on the idea of jerking off a second time. I was clearly playing this game by her rules. Just a minute or so after she walked out of her bedroom, I saw Roger's car pull into their driveway. The timing way too perfect, it was clear that everything which had happened since I got home was perfectly scripted by her (or them). From the mail incident, to her twice putting lotion on her fingers suggestively, to their argument in the yard, to the facial, to her showing me the facial up close, to watching and listening to me jack off. Even her masturbating in the shadows with the vibe while she knew I watched but couldn't see anything was all part of her little plan. She was teasing me with absolute expertise. I stood in awe of Erika, and in absolute lust. And she knew it.