Under the Gazes

Voyeurism Short Stories · approx. 13 min read · 18+

I stepped through the terrace door, leaving the noise of the party behind me. The air outside was cool, smelling of wet grass and the last blooms of summer. Only a single lamp burned in the garden, its light flowing milky over the stone slabs. I leaned against the house wall, took a drag from my cigarette, and let the smoke rise into the night sky. My cock was already half-hard, just from the thought of the night, from the possibility that something might happen. I felt the coolness of the night brush against my neck, but the blood in my veins was hot, restless.

Then I saw her.

She stood at the other end of the terrace, half in the shadow of a thuja. The lamp’s light traced a narrow strip across her shoulder, making the décolletage of her black dress flash. I could make out the curve of her breasts, how they were outlined under the fabric, firm and inviting. She held a glass of wine, but she wasn’t drinking. She was looking at me. Or she was looking in my direction, through me, as if I were just a part of the darkness. Her gaze was calm, appraising, without any shyness. Her eyes wandered over my body, lingered for a moment on my crotch, where my cock was already visible, and then she met my gaze again. A smile played on her lips, a smile that promised something I couldn’t immediately name — but my cock knew. It twitched in my pants, grew harder at the thought of what that smile might mean.

I stubbed out my cigarette and stayed standing. She set the glass down on the railing, with a slow, deliberate movement, as if she had all the time in the world. Her fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass, and I imagined how they would wrap around my cock, how those fingers would close around my glans, firm yet gentle. Then she tilted her head, and the smile grew wider, almost challenging. She knew what I was thinking. She knew I was standing there with a hard cock pressing against the zipper of my pants, and that I was ready to do whatever she asked of me.

She walked to the glass door, opened it a crack, and disappeared into the house. The door remained a finger’s width open. An offer. An invitation. I felt my heart beat faster, my mouth water. My cock throbbed, craving her wetness, the warmth of her body. I followed her.

The Curtain

I followed her. Not hastily, but with the same calm she had shown. The hallway was empty, the music from the living room muffled and bass-heavy. I heard voices, laughter, the clinking of glasses. But I wasn’t looking for the crowd. I was looking for her. My steps were quiet, firm, each step a piece closer to what I needed. My cock slapped against my belly as I walked, and I had to adjust it with my hand through the fabric. It was rock hard now, the glans wet with pre-cum seeping from the tip.

The door to the guest room was only ajar. A narrow strip of light fell onto the carpet. I pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was dim, only a bedside lamp burning. She sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, the dress smooth over her knees. Her gaze met mine, and this time she didn’t smile. Her eyes were dark, wide open, and I saw the desire in them, raw and unveiled. Her breath was shallow, and I could see how her chest rose and fell under the black fabric.

“Close the door,” she said. Her voice was deep, a little hoarse, as if she hadn’t spoken for a long time. The command in her voice made my cock even harder, if that was possible. I did it. The soft click of the lock was the only sound that sealed our desire.

She stood up, walked slowly toward me, stopping a step in front of me. I could smell her scent — heavy, sweet, with a note of vanilla and smoke. But underneath was another smell, the smell of her arousal, wet and earthy. It rose into my nose, and I felt my balls grow heavy, the pressure in my loins increase. She raised her hand and placed it flat on my chest, right over my heart. Her fingers were cool, but they left a hot trail on my skin.

“You looked at me outside,” she said. “I liked it. I saw how you undressed me with your eyes. Your eyes caressed my breasts, my cunt. I felt your gaze wander between my legs, how you imagined fucking me. And that made me so damn wet.” Her voice grew softer, rougher. “I’m wet, just from your look. My pussy is burning.”

Her fingers slid over the fabric of my shirt, down the buttons, tugged at my belt. She didn’t seem rushed. Every movement was measured, as if she were rehearsing a choreography. But her hands trembled slightly, and her breathing was uneven. She let her hands drop, turned around, and walked back to the bed. This time she didn’t sit. She stood still, with her back to me, and began to open the zipper of her dress.

I watched as the black fabric loosened, as it slipped over her shoulders, glided down her back, until the dress lay on the floor. She wore nothing underneath. Her body was slender, her skin pale in the warm light, but I saw more than just the surface. I saw the tension in her muscles, the slight goosebumps on her arms, the way her back arched slightly, as if she were offering herself to me. Her spine was a fine line that disappeared into the hollow of her back, and then the curve of her ass, firm and full, two perfect mounds that invited me to explore them. She remained standing like that, motionless, her arms slightly away from her body, as if presenting herself to me. I saw the dark slit between her cheeks, and my cock throbbed harder.

“I want you to look at me,” she said, without turning around. “Look at me. Closely. Look at my ass, my pussy, everything. I want you to see what you do to me.”

I obeyed. I let my gaze wander over her neck, over the gentle curve of her shoulder blades, the sweep of her hips, the soft roundness of her ass. She was beautiful in her nakedness, but it was more than beauty. It was the way she stood, how she presented herself — conscious, demanding, without shame. I could see the slight wetness between her legs, a thin thread running from her cunt down her thigh.

She turned around. Her breasts were small, her nipples dark and erect, hard with arousal. She let my eyes rest on her, let me take in the sight of her body, the curve of her waist, the soft mound of her pubis, the dark hair between her legs. Her gaze was steady, unflinching. She was showing herself to me, giving herself to me, and I felt a surge of raw, animal need.

“Touch me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the thrum of the music from the other room. “Touch me like you’ve been wanting to all night.”

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us. My hand reached out, and I placed it on her hip, feeling the warmth of her skin, the slight tremble that ran through her body. She didn’t move away. Instead, she leaned into my touch, her eyes closing for a moment. My other hand came up to cup her breast, my thumb brushing over her nipple. She gasped, a soft, sharp sound, and her hand came up to cover mine, pressing my palm harder against her flesh.

“Harder,” she breathed. “Don’t be gentle.”

I squeezed her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers. She moaned, her head falling back, her body arching into my touch. I could feel her heart pounding under my hand, could feel the heat radiating from her skin. My cock was straining against my pants, desperate to be free, to be inside her. But I held back, wanting to savor this, wanting to taste her, to feel her come apart under my hands.

I leaned down and took her nipple into my mouth. She gasped, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I sucked, licked, bit gently, feeling her body shudder with each movement. Her hips pressed against mine, and I could feel the wet heat of her cunt through my pants. She was soaked, her arousal soaking through the fabric, and the thought of tasting her, of burying my face between her legs, made my cock ache.

I pulled away, and she whimpered at the loss of contact. But I had other plans. I dropped to my knees in front of her, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her toward me. She understood, spreading her legs slightly, offering herself to me. I looked up at her, at the flush spreading across her chest, the glazed look in her eyes, and then I buried my face in her cunt.

She tasted like salt and honey, her scent filling my senses. I licked her, long and slow, from her entrance to her clit, feeling her shiver under my tongue. Her hands gripped my hair, pulling me closer, and I could hear her breath coming in ragged gasps. I focused on her clit, circling it with my tongue, sucking it gently, feeling it swell under my attention. She was trembling, her hips moving against my face, and I knew she was close.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please, don’t stop.”

I didn’t. I pushed my tongue inside her, tasting her arousal, feeling her walls clench around me. She cried out, her body arching, and I felt her come, her juices flooding my mouth. I drank her in, feeling her orgasm wash over her, her body shaking with the force of it. When she finally stilled, I pulled away, looking up at her. Her eyes were closed, her breath coming in deep, shuddering gasps.

She opened her eyes, and there was a fire in them, a hunger that hadn’t been sated. She reached down, pulling me to my feet, and her hands went to my belt, undoing it with practiced ease. She pushed my pants down, freeing my cock, and I watched as her eyes widened at the sight of it. Her hand wrapped around my shaft, her fingers barely able to encircle it, and she stroked me slowly, feeling the heat of my skin, the slickness of my pre-cum.

“You’re so hard,” she whispered. “So ready.”

She knelt in front of me, her mouth open, and took me into her mouth. The sensation was electric, the wet heat of her mouth enveloping me, her tongue swirling around my glans. I groaned, my hands tangling in her hair, and she looked up at me, her eyes locked on mine as she took me deeper, her throat opening to accept me. She was skilled, her mouth working me with a practiced rhythm, her hand stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach. I could feel the pressure building, the familiar tightness in my balls, and I knew I wouldn’t last long.

“I’m going to come,” I gasped, trying to pull away. But she held me, her mouth working faster, and I came with a shuddering groan, my seed flooding her mouth. She swallowed, her throat working, and when she pulled away, there was a satisfied smile on her lips.

She stood up, her body pressed against mine, and I could feel the heat of her skin, the wetness of her cunt against my thigh. “Now,” she said, her voice husky. “Now fuck me.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist, and carried her to the bed. I laid her down, her body spread out before me, her legs open, her cunt glistening with her arousal. I positioned myself between her thighs, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance, and I looked into her eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Now.”

I pushed inside her, and she cried out, her back arching, her hands gripping the sheets. She was tight, so tight, her walls clenching around me, and I had to pause, to let her adjust. But she was impatient, her hips bucking against mine, pulling me deeper. I began to move, slow at first, then faster, each thrust driving me deeper into her wet heat. Her moans filled the room, her nails digging into my back, and I could feel her climbing toward another orgasm.

“Harder,” she begged. “Fuck me harder.”

I obeyed, slamming into her, feeling her body take me, her cunt gripping me with each thrust. I could feel her climax building, feel the tension in her body, and when she came, she screamed, her body convulsing around me. The sensation pushed me over the edge, and I came again, my seed spilling into her, my body shuddering with the force of my release.

We lay there, tangled together, our breath coming in ragged gasps. She looked up at me, her eyes soft, her lips curved in a satisfied smile. “That was…” she started, but I silenced her with a kiss, my hand cupping her face, feeling the warmth of her skin.

The music from the party still thrummed in the distance, but in that room, there was only us, the sound of our breathing, the warmth of our bodies. And I knew, as I held her, that this was only the beginning.