Reveries #1: Perspective

[There are two characters in this story. One is a young man house-sitting for some friends of his parents, and the other is a middle-aged woman home sick from work. I’ll keep the details of their personalities intentionally fuzzy so you can better imagine yourself in their place.]


The house has a small pool in the backyard, and from the moment the boy steps into the empty mansion, he fully intends to go skinny dipping. He wants to be a trustworthy house-sitter, but he can’t shake the small thrill of being alone in this space, imagining Mr. and Mrs. N (who have no children) fucking in every room. As he steps into the master bathroom upstairs, he imagines Mrs. N bathing behind the wall-to-wall glass doors of the shower, the way her generous breasts might look as she soaps them.

The house is so large and so quiet, an empty space still charged by unknown activities, like a school in the summertime. He feels like an outlaw, somehow — and this is how the boy ends up taking off his clothes, folding them neatly on the twin bed in the guest room, and continuing his tour nude. The house is very open, with large unadorned windows looking out at the neighboring houses in every room, but the boy isn’t modest. He resumes his tour in the master bedroom.


The woman isn’t feeling awful, but she feels under the weather enough to justify a quiet day alone at home. Besides, she’s woken up extremely horny the last few days, and hasn’t had an opportunity to get herself off lately. Nothing like a sunny afternoon in bed for that.

Her pajamas aren’t particularly sexy, but as she looks herself over in the mirror, she concludes that she wears them well. Her c-cup breasts sway pleasantly beneath her cotton tank top, and the black yoga leggings she wears don’t make her ass look half bad. She playfully twirls a finger over the soft peaks of her nipples, enjoying how they look as they stiffen slightly under the cloth. As she strolls back into the bedroom, she sees movement in the window of her neighbors’ house, and remembering the time she watched those neighbors make love in front of their bedroom window, she settles into bed to watch what might unfold today. Quickly though, she realizes that it isn’t her neighbors in the house, but rather a young man, stark naked.


The boy makes his way down the stairs to the large open living room, with windows looking out over the pool. The day has grown warm, and he doesn’t see a point in waiting for dark to go for a dip. Leaving the shelter of the house, he gets another brief thrill stepping nude into the impeccably landscaped yard, neighboring houses looming over the low fence. As he wades into the shallow end of the pool, he imagines Mr. and Mrs. N laying naked on towels. He imagines how their gaze would feel on his exposed skin, and the thought arouses him more than he expects. Looking down, he finds that his cock has begun to get hard, so he dives into the clear cool water.


From her vantage point, the woman can see the naked boy exit the house, stand in the shallow end of the pool for a moment, notice his growing erection, and dive into the water. She thinks it a little strange, but in all the situation has begun to turn her on. As the boy swims, she leans back against the pillows and brings to mind the sight of his cock hardening. It’s a nice cock, she thinks, imagining how big it will be once it’s fully hard. She tries to guess what fantasies could be turning him on, and images of young, lithe women with long, soft legs dance in her mind. Little does she know it’s a woman very much like herself that is exciting him. She moves her hand slowly between her legs as she listens to the quiet splashing of the boy in the pool.


After a few minutes in the water, the boy pulls himself up onto the tiled edge of the pool and lets the water bead off of his skin. The sun feels good on his body as muses about whether Mrs. N might have tanlines on her breasts. He imagines her and her husband still lying on the grass, watching him. If Mr. N were to roll over, would he be getting stiff too? The boy pictures his wife’s naked body, stretched out between the two of them, a moment of eye contact between the two men, an understanding. This makes his cock come to life again, stiffening nearly to its full size. Sitting up, the boy glances around the yard, noticing an open-air shower tucked alongside the house. It looks very appealing to him in the moment.


When the woman looks out the window again, the young man has seemingly disappeared. She can see his wet footprints leading away from the pool and across the flagstone patio, and as she follows this trail, she hears a shower being turned on. The sound instantly calls up a sense of excitement for her, as she has watched the couple shower together below her window a handful of times. And there he is, the boy standing beside the stream of water, testing the temperature. His cock has remained relatively hard, she notices, but he no longer seems embarrassed by it. As he steps under the falling water, he takes his cock in his hand and begins to stroke it softly. The woman immediately feels a flush of heat ignite in her cheeks and spread to her chest, burning its way slowly to her pussy. She moves her hand down once again and works her way under the waistband of her leggings. She watches the way the boy rubs the head of his cock steadily with his hand, imagining him at the foot of her bed, stroking himself, gazing hungrily at her body. But there’s something gentle about the young man’s demeanor that pushes her desire for him past the boundary between fantasy and flesh. She pulls her tanktop off and kicks off her leggings, reducing her pajamas to a pair of lacy white panties whose minutes are numbered.


In the boy’s mind, there are three showers in a row. He’s at the middle one, Mr. N is to his right, and Mrs. N to his left. Both of them are clearly aroused, and Mr. N tells the boy he can feel free to masturbate if he wants. Mrs. N smiles warmly and nods, running her hands down over her slick breasts, over her stomach to her deeply alluring pussy. Mr. N gives the boy a knowing look and takes his huge, heavy cock in his hand. The boy (in his imagination and in reality) takes his own cock in his hand and begins to stroke himself in the cascade of hot water. His relative exposure heightens his arousal, and he basks in the feeling of doing something so indulgent in this borrowed place. He gives himself to the pleasure and lets out a slow groan as he massages his aching erection.


What is he thinking about, the woman wonders. What would he do if I opened my window and called to him? She is naked now, propped up in bed on a pillow beside the window. Her smooth legs are spread, and the fingers of her right hand are lovingly alternating between her clitoris and her labia. Her other hand is at her face, two of her fingers in her mouth. She often sucks on her fingers while she masturbates, imagining a cock pulsing there, filling her mouth. Today she imagines this young man’s cock filling her. He is kneeling over her, straddling her leg, moving his hips slowly in time with her mouth. She continues to masturbate, giving the boy a taste of her pussy with her fingers. Below, she hears the boy grunt, his strokes growing more desperate. She increases her speed, trying to gauge how far away from orgasm she is.


In the boy’s mind, he is fucking Mrs. N. He’s under her shower now and she’s bent over in front of him with her hands on the wall. She offered herself to him and he accepted. He’s thrusting into her, reaching around to hold her bucking breasts. Mr. N is there beside him, stroking his impressive erection against his wife’s thigh, asking her how she likes the boy’s cock. Her hands brush against the boy’s swaying balls as she rubs her clit. He imagines what her voice would sound like begging him to fuck her, telling her husband how good this new cock feels inside her. He feels himself at the edge, the tide of orgasm rising in his balls. In his mind, he grips her hips tighter and plunges himself all the way into her, telling this apparition of a woman that he’s about to come.


The woman throws her head back against the pillows and plateaus into a steady rhythm with her hand. She is whimpering now, reciting snippets of commands and queries under her breath as she imagines the boy having his gentle but hungry way with her. His cock has swollen to an almost impossible size, filling her in the singular and absolute way that only an imagined cock can. She imagines it growing to the size of her body, so that she must wrap her arms and legs around it as he pumps it greedily against her. With this she looks out the window to see the boy clearly on the brink of orgasm, his back arched and hand flying like the wings of a hummingbird. He is grunting in time with the waves of pleasure washing over him, about to break. “Fuuuck,” he groans, loud enough for the woman to hear, as his hand slows and the first large spurt of cum shoots from his bright red cock. She feels the teeter-totter between her and climax tip her way, and she lets out a long moan, not even wondering if the boy can hear her. His cock has returned to a more plausible size in her frantic mind, and he points it at her breasts as he unleashes volley after volley of hot cum. She begs him for it as he pumps the last few drops onto her body. She comes with this image gripped tightly in her mind, the boy’s desire to please her crystalizing into a rubber orb that she squeezes in her hand as she is subsumed by her orgasm.


The boy lets the hot water fill his mouth as he comes. He doesn’t picture himself coming on Mrs. N at this moment, but rather the couple’s watching eyes, approving gently of his pleasure. He wants the couple to come along with him, the three of them simultaneously, but at this moment he wants it in an abstracted sense. He wants their pleasure to meld with his own, three orgasms twisting together into one. And then, right at the climactic moment, something profound would erupt in a slow glowing explosion in his brain. Before he can get a handle on what the explosion contains, it is obscured, and he finds himself in the shadow of an unfamiliar house, showering alone, squeezing the last drops of cum from his throbbing erection.

He washes off under the water and returns to the house, leaving behind a trail of wet footprints as he looks for a towel.