Watcher in the Woods
If John hadn’t bothered to go back downstairs to lock the back door, he would have never have noticed her. But there she was, in all her naked glory.
Across the yard, through the thin strip of trees that separated their properties, he could see her clearly through her large bedroom window. She was just standing there, as if in a trance, studying something that caught her eye outside. No not something outside, inside. She was looking at her own reflection in the window, admiring her exceptionally sculpted body. John had always admired Caroline’s body. He rarely spoke with her, just a passing hello as they would run into one another on a jog. Always to John’s delight, she would deck herself in tight fitting lyrca revealing her large full breasts and wide womanly hips, that set off her voluptuous frame. And now he could see it all. Her nipples were dark, almost the color of a bruise, and she had a dark wild swath of pubic hair. She probably stopped concerning herself with her bikini line once the cold weather began to set in, John thought.
John began to grow hard as he watched her examine herself in the window. She would cup a breast, turn and admire herself from a side, then turn to see the other side as if to check her perfect symmetry. She turned her back to him and she looked over her shoulder to admire her ass which was tantalizingly round and inviting, just begging to grasped and lunged into by John’s now uncomfortably hard cock which poked through his pajamas unashamedly. It twitched in desire.
Caroline continued to hold her breasts, but now her hands began to move a bit. A slight caress. A gentle squeeze. A finger ran over a nipple. She closed her eyes and her mouth parted. John could imagine the sigh emitting from her lips. His cock twitched again. He took hold.
Her second hand moved down from her breasts. Lower. Over her belly and into her dark hairy pubic mound. Even from John’s vantage point, he could see her ring-clad middle finger disappear inside her as she began to grind herself against her palm. Her eyes closed and her chest heaved.
John couldn’t take anymore of this. He walked over to the sink and squirted a healthy dash of moisturizer into his right hand and immediately coated his stiff pole which now demanded attention as throbbed steadily, pointing nearly straight up. John walked back to the door to resume the show; but it was too late. His heart sank and his cock wilted slightly as Caroline’s magnificent ass swayed away from the window and back into the interior of the room, out of his view.
His immediate thought was to finish it right there. He was probably moments away from stroking himself into orgasmic bliss with his level of arousal and the scene fresh in his mind, but there was something unfair and incomplete about it. He’d been cheated. Denied. Opportunities like this come but once a lifetime. John had seen porn and it was nothing like this. This was real. A woman actually masturbating herself for own pleasure. Not for the camera. Not to please a boyfriend. Not in a letter to Penthouse, this was the real deal, and at that very moment, John knew he would never witness this again in his life. Unless he took action.
John’s heart raced as he weighed the consequences of his actions. People go to jail for this sort of thing—No, he won’t actually go on her property, he’ll only go to the treeline. He’s got every right to do that. That’s not illegal...is it? John found his slippers and grabbed his heavy army jacket near the door. It was brisk out. Probably upper 40’s, but that did not dissuade John’s arousal. His cock rubbed up and down the inside of his PJ’s as he sneaked his way across his yard. It was a moonless night, so there was very little chance he would be seen. Caroline was really the only close neighbor. The next closest house had to be at least a quarter mile down the road.
As John approached the treeline, he could see where Caroline had moved to. Mercifully, she had left the light on as she moved to her bed and laid back on it. Her legs were spread wide towards John and she had one hand working her breasts and the other hand busily attending to her pussy. Her head lolled back on the bed in ecstasy. If she could see him through the window, she was now oblivious to it, enraptured in her own pleasure.
John unzipped his jacket and helped his cock back out of his pajamas. It felt cool and exposed in the night air. He stroked unabashed now, convinced he could not be seen. He matched her stroke for stroke, as her hand would rock to and fro, so would John’s hand on his cock. The large diamond she wore on her masturbating finger caught the light in the room and danced in John’s eyes. As she would speed up, so would John. He was determined to hold back as long as he could, to time his orgasm with hers. She would slow and he would slow. He mirrored her movements perfectly, matching her stroke for stroke, following her tempo...it was easy, her hand was easy to follow with that ring, it sparkled so brightly, capturing the light of the room. It moved so smoothly, leaving a trail of light in its swath as it dashed back and forth on her masturbating hand. John’s attention focused deeper on the movement of the diamond. It was guiding him. As it moved he moved, he felt as if it moved his hand for him, an invisible ring on his own hand that slide it up and down over his engorged cock. Caroline did not appear to be coming. In fact, instead of speeding up to complete her orgasm she began to slow her tempo. The ring began to slow, and slow and slow until finally it just stopped. John felt dizzy. His hand twitched, waiting for her hand to resume her ministrations, but she did not. Her hand moved slowly up from her sex. Reluctantly, John’s hand moved up as well, almost involuntarily. Her hand moved up along her body until it was in front of her face, her eyes peering through her fingers looking directly at John who peered back through his own hand.
John’s heart leapt. He’d been spotted! Possibly. What to do? His mind raced but quickly concluded that staying still was the best course of action. She couldn’t see him could she? The reflection in the glass would be too great. It was too dark outside. He blended with the trees. Best to remain frozen. Don’t move. Can’t move. Even as Caroline arose from the bed.
She kept her hand in front of her face. She glared through her fingers. He was sure she could see him. He was looking directly at her eyes. They were so bold, so forceful, he couldn’t turn away. She stepped right up against the glass and stared even more deeply at him. He began to sway. He felt dizzy. He knew he’d been caught. What could he do?
Caroline reached towards him now rotating her forearm so her hand reached out palm up. She curled her fingers as if reaching for some imaginary cock that was right before her. John swore he could feel those fingers around his cock encircling it with a gentle squeeze. His cock jerked involuntarily. Her fingers closed tighter and John could feel this imaginary hand squeezing him once again. This time it did not feel like imagination. This time it felt real. His eyes dropped down to look at his penis, as if to make sure there was not really a hand there, squeezing as Caroline was from afar. His mind...it must be playing tricks.
But this was no trick. Caroline drew her hand in, pulling on some imaginary root in the air and simultaneously John felt his cock get pulled forward. This was not a loving stroke. This was a forceful pull. There was definitely something that had taken hold of his cock. Now was the time for leaving. Now.
John tried to turn to run, but his cock was held fast by this invisible shaft which clutched his cock tightly and caused John to wince in pain as he tried to escape it. If he’d turn any farther, he felt as if he might of ripped his dick completely off. John’s heart began to race in panic. What was going on here? He looked up at Caroline. She smiled an evil smile and tugged again, harder.
This time John lurched forward. The invisible force was tugging more urgently on his cock and he had no choice but to walk forward, lest he suffer permanent damage. He was now clear of the trees and approaching Caroline’s window. Caroline resumed pulling on her imaginary rope, which seemed clearly connected to his stiff cock. She would pull, hand over hand, and he would feel each tug. His eyes were ablaze in fear. There was no escape from this...was he bewitched?
She kept pulling until he was right up against the window. He looked in at her and she looked back at him, her brow furrowed, assessing him. Judging him. John jut looked at her sheepishly, as if to apologize for this horrible thing he’d done. She read his apology and smiled back at him. A gleam of mischief in her eyes.
She brought her hand up between them. It was still tightly gripping the imaginary cock. She eased her fingers a bit, and John felt the grasp on his cock loosen. She began to strum her fingers in the air and John could feel these wonderful sensations stroking in time on his cock. Caroline’s mouth opened and she placed her pantomime cock in her mouth. Immediately, John felt his cock enveloped by something warm and velvety. As he watched her tongue dart about her mouth, circling and circling he could feel it on his cock. His legs began to sway as the pressure built in him.
Caroline switched tempos suddenly, rocking her head back and forth. John could feel his cock sliding in and out of this tantalizing mouth; he closed his eyes and his toes began to curl inside of his slippers, the feeling was building and building, he couldn’t hold back any longer; with a grunt he felt his cock explode, thick jets of cum jerking out of him as his whole body shook with a force ful orgasm that almost burst his ear drums.
He opened his and saw her standing there through the window staring at him and grinning. He grinned back. She looked down and he followed her gaze. His cock was coming down, slowly. He’d splattered her window pretty good. He looked back up at her and smiled again, amazed at this gift she had given him. She smiled back; thinking of something else. She brought her hand back in front of her face. The diamond on her finger seamed to glow, a dim light inside. John was captivated. She moved her hand slowly to the side and his eyes followed it, fascinated by the glow. She moved it to the other side of herself and he continued to follow. She brought it back in front of her face, her eyes peering around the ring. She began to curl at her fingers and John could feel them tugging at his eyelids, which felt so heavy, as if attached to her finger tips. As her fingers curled, his eyelids began to droop, and as she completed her fist, John eyes closed completely.
When his eyes opened again. He found himself on the other side of the glass. He was standing in her room. Alone. Naked. Helpless. He couldn’t move. His arms hung uselessly at his side, unwilling to obey his mind. He tried to will his legs to move, but found they too were non-responsive. His mind raced with dark thoughts. What had he gotten himself into?