Sinful desires{steamiest short stories}

I made one of those bold mid-life decisions a few months ago when I decided to leave a company I spent 15 years at to start my own business. The idea of waking up, lounging in my house all day needing only a computer, fax machine and a cell phone to consider it a work day appealed to me. I took my client roster with me and in no time business was a success.

One morning, sitting at the breakfast bar in my kitchen, scanning the finance pages on my laptop. It was a lazy, warm day for me as I sat in an undershirt and boxers. This is one of the perks of a home office.

Bored from reading about money and more impending financial doom, I decided to jump-start my day with a little porn surf. A quick click to one of my favorite sites and my eyes were now scanning endless thumbnails of tits and ass.

I read a few hot stories and watched a video clip. My cock begged for some attention and so it received as I fantasized into a delightful daze.

Something then suddenly caught my eye from outside the French doors, which I obviously was sitting right in front of.

I live in a two-story townhouse in a condominium complex. The back doors (kitchen, in this case) open to a small deck that overlooks a back alley that is barely the width of two cars.

Under the deck, on the first floor, is the garage. Across the alley is another row of condos, back-to-back with the alley in between.

And directly across from my window is another deck, with sliding window doors (mine had French doors because the previous owner had them installed).This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

When I turned to see what had caught my eye, I noticed a woman in a red robe watering plants on the deck. She was looking directly into my kitchen, through the French door windows. The watering can was in hand, but not watering anything at the moment.

It was my neighbor, I guessed, though I had never seen her before. I didn’t know many of the people in my complex by name and only a few by sight. My hours with the company were too long to have time for neighborly small talk.

I’d always wave and smile to those I’d see outside. But this was one woman I didn’t know even by sight because I rarely was home during the day and didn’t spend much time on my deck.

I immediately wondered if she had seen me, but figured the distance might have been far enough to protect my privacy. It was intriguing to think she might have caught me in the act, but also a bit embarrassing. I didn’t want a call from the complex manager, telling me of a complaint of lewd behavior.

Of course I could always counter with a peeping-tom complaint.

Careful to cover my ass, I grabbed a Sharpie and scribbled a sign on a piece of paper that read: “Get a webcam, it lasts longer!” I figured it would scare her away and out of telling anyone. When I held it to the window with a pissed off expression, she looked startled. She put the can down and went immediately into the house.

Crisis averted.

But a few minutes later, something caught my eye again from the window. I looked out and there was a sign from her that caught me by surprise: “I have one.” Underneath that was a screen name for a Yahoo account.

She gave me a minute to write it down and then pulled the sign away. She then sat at a computer that was positioned to the right of her sliding doors. The blinds were pulled completely back from the doors, so I could see entirely into her house. She sat and her right leg was exposed at the opening of her robe. She was typing away.

I went to the laptop and logged into Yahoo. I plugged in her name and sent a message.

“Hello.”

I then waved. She smiled. “Hello.” She replied.

We began small talk of seeing each other and she apologized for catching me “in the act.” I asked her what act she was talking about and she sent a face with a tongue sticking out. She then asked if I had finished the job. I hesitated. What the fuck. I replied, “no.”

She sent me an invite to view her webcam and I clicked. The screen came up with her face smiling at me. I looked across the alley and saw her looking into the camera. “Don’t you have one?” she asked. “No,” I replied. “But you don’t really need one, now do you?” I then looked out the window again and she looked at the same time. We both laughed.

The next message she sent was a telephone number. I grabbed the phone, called the number and watched her as she got up from the desk and picked up a cordless phone in the kitchen.

“Hello again,” a woman’s voice said.

“Open your door,” she then said. “I can’t see you as well through the French doors. Why do you have them anyway? Everyone else has regular sliding doors.”

“Come with the place,” I replied. “I guess the privacy excuse is no good.”

We laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said. I watched her wandering her kitchen, putting things away and fondling plants. She would move past the doorway here and there, glancing across to me. I opened the French door and felt the warm morning air hit me.

“Well,” I said, “it’s fine as long as we’re even.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You caught me, so maybe you owe me a little something in return.”

“Tell you what,” she said, now stopping in front of the sliding door, to where I could see her in full. “I’ll play along if you finish what you started.”

I smiled. “Agreed.”

“OK,” she then said, “speakerphone time.”

I hit the speakerphone button and put the receiver down. Back to the door, where she was already waiting with a smile. I reached for the stool behind me and sat on it. “Don’t face me,” she said. “Act like you don’t even know I’m here.”

“What’s my motivation?” I asked.

“Look at your computer screen,” she replied.

The camera was shooting her from the side as she leaned against her countertop, looking sideways across the alley at me. The belt of her robe was loosened and she tugged at it slightly to make it open. Her legs were first exposed.

I followed them up to her thighs, where luscious curves swooped to her hips. She was not wearing anything underneath the robe and the darkness of her muff was apparent. The robe was now hanging on to her only by her breasts, which remained covered by the material.

My hand slid into my boxers and worked my tingling cock up and down. Her hands moved up her thighs to her stomach and as they slid over her breasts, the robe finally gave way. She rolled the robe around her shoulders and put her hands on her hips in a seductive pose.

The image had my balls swelling with adrenaline and cum. “Let me see that cock,” she then said, leaning forward to get a better look through the window. “I want to see you spray that hot cum.”

I lifted my shirt off and tossed it to the floor. I stood then, stepping out of the boxers with my cock now extended into the air. While she gasped and giggled and cooed at the sight, my mind was thinking: Where the fuck was I gonna shoot this thing? The sudden concern broke my concentration.