The moonlight painted a silver streak across her bare shoulder as she leaned on the balcony. He had seen her earlier by the pool – the sunlight tracing lines on her skin, her gaze brushing over him before looking away. Now only three meters of air and the whisper of the wind separated them, carrying her scent to him: something floral, mixed with the salt of the night. His cock was already hardening, just from the sight of her silhouette, from the way her summer dress clung to her curves.
A Look That Lingered
She leaned on the railing, her hair loose, a thin summer dress clinging to her body as if it were wet. He sat in the shadow of his balcony, a cold bottle of beer in his hand, his gaze fixed on the city lights – yet his eyes kept returning to her. She knew it. He saw it in the way she briefly turned, then looked away again, as if nothing had happened. The silence was heavy, charged. He could hear her breathing, even though she was far away, or was he imagining it? Her dress moved in the wind, and he thought of the skin underneath, of her tits, which he could only guess at, of her pussy, which was probably already wet. His pulse quickened, his cock throbbed in his pants as she slowly unzipped her dress – a gesture that was anything but casual. She let the dress slip from her shoulders, and he held his breath. Black lace bra, matching panties, and the moon shone on her bare skin as if she were a statue of beauty. Her tits pressed against the fabric, her nipples outlined, hard and ready.
He didn’t move. Barely dared to blink. His cock was now stiff, painfully pressing against the zipper of his pants. She turned around, leaned back against the railing, her hands moving to her bra clasp. With a fluid motion, she opened it, let the piece fall, and her breasts came into view – firm, her nipples already hard in the wind. They were perfect, round, full tits with dark areolas and hard nipples, outlined in the moonlight. She held his gaze, even though he knew she couldn’t see him in the shadows. But she knew he was there. Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but she remained silent, letting her hands glide over her breasts, her fingertips slowly circling her erect nipples. A soft moan escaped her throat, barely audible, but the wind carried it to him. “Yes,” she whispered, “watch me.” Her fingers pinched her nipples, pulled at them, and her tits bounced under her touch. His hand unconsciously moved to his belt, but he stopped himself. Not yet. He wanted to see how far she would go.
The Game Begins
She opened her eyes again and looked directly over at him. “I know you’re there,” she said, her voice soft but clear in the silence of the night. “Come closer.” He hesitated for a moment, then stood up and stepped to the balcony railing. His cock was clearly outlined in his pants, a thick bulge. She smiled when she saw it. “I like you. You watch without judging.”
“I like you too,” he said, his voice rough with desire. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the railing. “I want to touch you. I want to feel my hands on your tits, want to have my fingers in your wet pussy.” She shook her head. “Not yet. First, I want you to watch me. All of me. Watch me get ready for you.” She reached into her hair, undid the knot, and the curls fell over her shoulders. Then she slid her hands into her panties, slowly pushing them down. The fabric slid over her legs, and she stepped out of them, leaving them on the balcony floor. Naked she stood before him, only illuminated by the moon, and he felt a hot jolt in his chest. His hand wrapped around his cock through his pants, squeezing. She turned around, bent over the railing, offering him her back – the round ass, the open center. Her pussy was visible from behind, her labia slightly parted, glistening with moisture. Her hands gripped the metal, and she looked back over her shoulder. “Do you see how wet I am?” she asked. “My cunt is dripping with horniness. I’ve been thinking about you all evening, about your cock inside me.” He could see it, the wet gleam between her legs. His pants were straining to the breaking point.
“Come closer,” she said again, and this time it wasn’t a prohibition. He climbed onto the railing of his balcony, jumped over to hers in one bound, landing softly. His cock nearly sprang out of his pants as he landed. She stayed where she was, head bowed, hair falling forward, her bare ass thrust out towards him. He stepped behind her, so close he could inhale her scent – the smell of arousal and perfume, the musky odor of her wet pussy. He placed his hands on her hips, feeling her warmth. She flinched under his touch, but she didn’t pull away. “I want to feel you,” she whispered. “Inside. I want to feel your hard cock in my cunt.” His hand slid between her legs, finding the wet warmth of her pussy. His fingers glided through her slick labia, feeling the heat emanating from her. She was dripping wet, her juice running down his fingers. She moaned loudly, pressing into his palm. “Yes, right there. Fuck me with your fingers.” He pushed two fingers inside her, feeling her tight, hot cunt clench around his fingers. She moaned, her back arching. “More,” she panted, “I want more.” He pulled his hand back, opened his belt, let his pants fall. His erection was hard, pressing against the fabric of his boxers, a thick, throbbing shaft. He pulled those off too, and his cock sprang free, long and thick, the head already slick with pre-cum. She turned around, looked at him. Her eyes were dark, her pupils wide, her gaze fixed on his cock. “Oh yes,” she breathed, “I want to feel that inside me. I want you to fuck me hard until I scream.”
Union Under the Moon
He stepped closer, lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Her back leaned against the railing, and he placed the tip of his cock at her wet opening. She trembled with anticipation. He entered her – slowly, inch by inch. Her tight cunt gripped him like a fist, hot and wet. She let out a soft cry, burying her face in his shoulder. “Oh God, you’re so big,” she moaned, “so wonderfully thick.” He felt her tightness, her wetness, and he began to move, a rhythmic thrusting that made them both tremble. His hands were on her a
Voices from the community
No voices yet — be the first to say what turned you on.
