Coffee

By Jude Mason

 

 

Coffee
Jude Mason

"Coffee." The whispered word provided a focus as she made her way towards the kitchen. "God," she grumbled to herself, "I should know better. Partying half the fuckin' night then have to get up early."

The floor was cool on her bare feet and she pulled the silky robe around herself a little tighter. The glorious, pungent smell permeated the house, coffee. 'I'll open my eyes soon, promise' she thought then smiled sleepily. 'Good thing I've lived here forever or I'd be walking into walls.' Navigating around the dining room then finally into the small, aroma filled kitchen. Hip resting against the counter, she shivered as goose bumps tightening the skin of her neck. Taking her large, porcelain cup off the hook she set it on the counter, then carefully filled it with the steaming, black brew. Coffee finally in her hands, she raised it to her nose, inhaling the rich fragrance then glanced through the window above the sink.

Her eyes flew open, coffee forgotten. Her lips were pursed in the process of blowing. She stood frozen; not blinking or breathing, even her heartbeat seemed to have stopped.

He was naked and on his knees. Amazing! Right in front of her, possibly ten feet away, peering through the hedge towards her neighbour's house. He was also masturbating.

Setting her cup on the counter, she took a deep ragged breath, unaware that she'd been holding it until then. 'Oh my God,' she mouthed. Her eyes were glued to the apparition before her, not daring to blink in case he disappeared.

Her mind slowly began to function again then, wham, her thoughts raced. He was new in the area, just moved in a few weeks ago and she'd been trying to find some way to meet him. Her mind jumped from one thought to another and she blinked, trying to focus it. On several occasions she'd seen and admired his good looks, the easy smile he flashed around. Now, she admired a great deal more.

He wasn't what you'd call classically good-looking. Not as tall as a lot of men, but well muscled and as she could clearly see, he had a very nice ass. The small tattoo of a roadrunner drew her eyes. The urge to reach out and touch him was insane; but that's exactly what she wanted to do.

When her brain finally kicked in again, she wondered what he was looking at. With difficulty, she tore her eyes off him, and peering past him, saw the window he was looking into.

Shades partially open, her neighbours were going about their morning ritual. Newlyweds, Jack and Sarah still played a lot of grab ass and kissed or touched passionately whenever they could. Their mornings were an entertainment that this fella obviously enjoyed and was taking full advantage of.

Tabitha was certainly getting an eyeful, and still gaping, allowed her robe to fall open. Although she'd never thought of herself as a voyeur, she wasn't about to turn her eyes away. The heat rose in her cheeks as she watched the easy way he caressed himself.

The neighbours were just a bit too far for her to make out, but he was there, almost close enough to reach out and touch. Instead, she slid her hands over her own body.

Her heart had been pounding ever since she'd spotted him and realized he couldn't, or at least hadn't, seen her. With shaking hands she reached for her nipples and gently pulled on them. Twisting them between fingers and thumbs sent a shock straight to her pussy. Clenching inner muscles and the lubrication that trickled down her thighs attested to her fast growing arousal.

'He's beautiful,' she thought as she watched him, reminding herself to breathe. His face was turned away from her, but his body was angled in such a way that she could see him clearly as he stroked himself. His erection was weeping; his fist was tightly wrapped around the base. The muscles in his back rippled, as he struggled to control his lust. His head fell back for just a moment, while he reached for his balls with his free hand, cupping then tugging on them. His thighs eased open, just an inch or so more and Tabitha's did the same.

Her fingers slid down along the side of her pussy lips, then around and up to the nub of her clit. Stiff and hard, she rubbed a finger over the tip sending tingling sensations down her thighs. Carefully, she slid her wetted finger into her steamy caldron of want. Sighing, she pressed the palm of her hand against herself, as her thighs closed, trapping her wrist. The other hand gripped the counter, holding her up, as her pleasure mounted.

Tabitha's gaze never strayed from her peeping Tom's body. Watching carefully as his hand slid up and down his shaft, gripping tighter as he neared his climax. His hips moved, jerkily thrusting his shaft through his fist. Mouth gaping, his body tensed visibly and the first jet of semen shot into the air. Pumping hard, his cock spewed again then again, adorning the brush with his white ribbons of lust.

Her own orgasm followed his and she fought to remain standing as it enveloped her. Crashing waves filled her ears as her sight became flecked with the familiar, spectacular fireworks display. His tattoo fills her mind, the firm cheeks of his ass and the throbbing, pumping tube of flesh thrust out from between his thighs. Shuddering, her pussy clenched around her fingers as she plunged them deep inside, then curled and pressed them against that spot. A gargled moan, her legs trembled as the muscles gripped her hard. Gently stroking after that, her body glowing with perspiration and her eyes refocused on the lovely man who still knelt by the brush.

The roadrunner tattoo, something she'd remember for later use if she needed. Her mouth twitched at the corners, a smile appearing as her mind began to form plans. Languidly her fingers caressed the soft damp petals of her womanhood. Yes, that roadrunner might very well come in handy; after all who knew it was there; unless you'd seen him naked.

Her breathing slowed then she slipped her fingers away from her wetness and with still trembling hands, gathered up her coffee. Her peeping Tom was stirring, his softened prick dangling between his thighs. Tabitha watched, as he rose and carefully made his way towards the back of her house. She followed him with her eyes, making sure she knew which house he entered.

Lifting the cup to her lips.

"Tabitha, what are you looking at?" Philip, her husband, stood naked and hard, watching her.

 

 

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End

 

 

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