"You say you want to," came the brusque voice over the phone, "but you don't, not really. I can hear it. I know your type, you're too frightened."
I nearly panicked. "No, no, please, I need you to teach me, please. Please I want to..."
"You want to what?" she sneered after my pause. "You can't even say it, never mind do it." I heard her scoffing laugh through my cell phone and felt the sting as if she were right there. "I don't have time for this bullshit, Sonia."
"No, really, I mean it, I swear."
"Crap," came the laconic reply. "You'll back out as soon as we step outside your safe little boundaries."
"Dana, please, I won't."
I held the phone to my ear, imagining the intolerant, annoyed expression on her face, listening as she grumbled to herself, blowing irritated breaths on the phone.
"Dana, please," I risked.
"Well, let's see then, Miss I-want-to-experience-the-wild-side," she snipped. "Are you upstairs in your bedroom?"
"Y-yes," I answered.
"Go to the window."
I looked across the room at the window, the one where I stood to watch Dana's friends come and go. Where, for months since she moved in, a parade of men and women had arrived, eager, sultry animals, sometimes in two's and three's. Where I watched, wondering what they did, having been told only hints by Dana. Seeing them leave, exhausted, smiling. Knowing. The window of my temptation. It loomed large in my vision as I shuffled timidly across the carpeted floor. I reached it, pulled the drapes aside, and stood framed in the large eye of glass and wood.
"I...I'm here," I said I to the phone.
"I can see that!" she snipped harshly. "What the fuck are you wearing?"
I was still gazing out the window at her house, searching the windows for her. Since I'd met her she'd come to represent all of the unknown pleasures of life. Younger than me by twelve years she was carefree, independent and wild. She lived for herself, cared for herself, enjoyed herself and her life. I was a homebody, a housewife with a part time job and no children. I vacuumed, she lived. I cooked and cleaned, she enjoyed. I dreamed and she experienced. And I wanted to know, wanted to experience. I wanted to live, to feel alive, to find out what I was missing.
Just seeing her walking into her house stirred longings in me for the excitement and daring of the unknown. Speaking to her, listening to her, even when she was dismissive and callous towards me, sparked yearnings to do wrong things, bad things. Forbidden things. I was scanning her front windows for a glimpse, eager to feel the need for the unknown, when her question finally registered.
I looked down my front at my old and tattered flower print robe, thrown on hastily over the oversized tee I'd slept in.
"My old robe," I explained, "I threw it on when I..."
"Take it off."
I threw a furtive glance in each direction, up and down the street, then returned my eyes to her house. As I shrugged the robe off my shoulders, switching phone hands, I saw the curtains move in the first floor window. I dropped the robe to the floor and stared, waiting. The curtain pulled back and her face appeared, looking up at me. She wore headphones where I held the phone to my ear. She scowled disapprovingly while I bit my lip in fear. She stared easily as I averted my eyes, desperate to see her and afraid to see her judgement. I shifted from foot to foot.
"Is that a tee shirt?" Her tone was almost accusatory.
"'D'joo sleep in it?" Not an accusation. A deliberate poke. Goading me.
"Wearing a bra?"
"No, not yet," I began to explain, but was cut off.
"Take off the tee. Show me your tits." The words had a finality in them, as though she was about to win an argument.
"But," I hesitated, "anyone could see me..."
"Like I said." And the line went dead.
Abandonment. I panicked, dropped the phone, took two steps back from the window, shaking with fear and panic, hands over my mouth. No, no, please, give me another chance!
I began pacing the room, frightened that she might cut me off without a word and leave me to my unfulfilled longings, and terrified that she might not. The phone buzzed with a message. I scurried back to the window and picked it up, reading the words with a thudding heart. You see? You're not serious. I don't have time for your silly housewife games. Do what I said and I'll call you back. Otherwise, have a nice life.
The phone vibrated in my trembling hand as I read and a second message appeared. Three minutes. You decide.
I dropped to the end of the bed, cradling the silent phone in both hands, my brain overloaded with fear and imagined outcomes, my sensible resistance fighting with my aching need. She knew what it was to be vital and alive. I needed to know what she knew. I struggled to my feet, but sat back back down with my indecision.
I used to think my life was full and complete, married, settled, days filled with activity. Having met Dana, watching her live her life, had torn the curtain aside. Made me look, made me see. Made me want. Things I imagined, all the things I knew I had missed. I wanted to live, to experience, so much so that it hurt inside. She will show me,
I scolded, if I can just do this thing...
I stood and dropped the phone to the bed. Clenching my eyes closed I pulled the tee shirt up over my head. Standing in just my panties I picked up the phone, checking for a message, clutching at the possibility that she was kidding while knowing she wasn't. There was nothing. I took several deep breaths and walked to the window. With a courage I didn't feel I impulsively opened the curtain wide. Not daring to look I closed my eyes and stepped up against the window.
My hand gripped the phone so tightly it hurt. Please, please, don't leave me standing here too long!
I imagined my other neighbors out and about their business, glancing up, seeing me, the shock plain on their faces. The children in the neighborhood were all in school, so no danger there. My muddled brain tried to recall other people's routines, estimating if anyone would be out, see me. Seeing my tits in the window.
There, I said it. Not out loud, but thinking the words gave them reality. And despite myself I felt my nipples crinkle and harden to points. I'm showing my tits to the world, I told myself. Look at me! Look at my titties! See me! See me do this for her, because she told me to do it!
Horror and shame mixed with danger and excitement and my tiny buds stiffened to points.
The phone rang and I opened my eyes as I brought it to my ear. Dana came back to the window, her smirking expression locked on me until the ring repeated. I looked at the phone and swiped it to answer.
I couldn't answer. I just looked at her, looking at me.
"Took you long enough." My face went red with shame. "Put the phone on speaker and put it on the windowsill." My shaking hand funbled at the controls. I heard her chuckling when I finally turned the speaker on. I placed it as gently as I could on the painted windowsill and stood up straight.
"Can you hear me?"
"Good. Nice tits, Sonia." I felt a swell of pride at her words, but my brief elation was shattered by her next command. "Play with them. Play with your nipples."
I froze. Touch myself? Where anyone could see?
"Did you hear me?"
"Yes, I - I heard, I..."
"What are you waiting for?!" The shout startled me from the small one speaker. "You came back to the window! Are you going to waste my time, you stuck-up pretentious bitch?" The words stung, hurting and shaming me. "Here's how this works, Sonia," she lectured. "You want my help? You do what I say. That's it. No questions, no hesitation. Got it?"
My brain whirled, but my body answered. Yes
, it told me, do it. You know you want to!
My eyes closed as my hand crept slowly up the front of my body, fingertips trailing across my bare skin. My head fell backwards and my lips parted as my fingernail brushed my nipple. I inhaled sharply as I gripped the stiff nub and rolled it between the pad of thumb and forefinger.
"You see how easy it is, Sonia," came the suddenly comforting encouragement. "That's it, that's good, feel the sensation, embrace the desire." My fingers pulled, toying with my pleasure point, sending subtle waves of comfort through my torso and settling warmly between my legs. My tongue touched my upper lip, stroking across. My other hand joined the first at my other breast.
"Tell me you want it, Sonia, tell me," came the seductive raspy tones of my instructor. "Tell me you want to learn."
"I do, Dana, please, I do," I answered.
"Tell me you'll follow my instructions. That you'll do what I tell you."
I pinched my nipples hard, pulling and twisting them, the sharp enticing sensation overwhelming my flagging resistance.
"I'm going to show you things, Sonia. Dark, scary...dirty things." Her voice was seductive with promise. "Things you cannot imagine and are afraid to know." My fingers matched the tenor and pace of her words, a physical representation of her aural seduction. "Things you want. Things you don't even know
you want." Her voice dropped even lower as my hands tormented my nipples for all the world to see. "But you must do what I say, or I will leave you."
"No!" I gasped.
"Then say it, Sonia, say the words. Say you want me to take you there." My fingers tightened, pulled, stretching my nipples painfully. "Yes, Sonia, you know you want it. Now, say it."
"Yes-s-s," I hissed, the knowledge of my exposure at the window heightening the excitement, tweaking my desire to new heights. The potential for shame, the submission to obedience adding an edge of forbidden excitement, fulfilling my yearning to learn, to be alive. To experience the new. I am entering a new world, a dark, unknown and dangerous world.
"Yessss," I repeated. "Take me there, I'll...I'll do whatever you say."
"No questions." It was an order, not a question.
"No questions," I sighed.
"Never. I swear."
"Good girl." A wave of relief swept through me at her phrase. "Now show me your cunt."
My eyes shot wide open at the coarse term. I saw her looking at me, her face sinister with dark glee. Without hesitation I released my sore nipples. Blood rushed back in, the aching throb sending bolts of pleasure through me. My hands were instantly at my panties, pushing them down and stepping out of them. Taking a nervous breath I stepped back to the window.
"Very good, Sonia." My chest swelled at her commendation. She's pleased with me!
I watched her face for a return of the delight I felt and saw only her narrowed eyes. "Closer to the window, dear." The endearment expressed no emotion. My eyes went to the street, looking for unwanted eyes but I stepped closer anyway. I don't care if they see,
I thought, then corrected. I want them to see!
I angled my hips forward, pressing my bare breasts against the glass, feeling the cool against my bare skin.
"Is that better?" I asked, wanting to please her. "Can you see my...vagina?"
A derisive snort bolted from the phone. "You show your vagina to your doctor!" she sneered. "Your husband fucks your pussy. I," she hissed, "want to see your cunt! Now, bitch!"
Fearful of losing her approval I backed away from the window, scanning the room. Pillows wouldn't do, the chair would be too tall. The ottoman. I scrambled for it, dragging it to the window and pushing it against the wall as her voice goaded me. "Hurry, bitch, or I'm out of here." I stepped up onto the cushioned seat and stood, balancing hurriedly to get back into her view.
"I'm here," I called loudly. "Can you see it?"
"See what, Sonia?"
"My..." I felt the heat rise to my face. "My cunt," I called out.
Snickering laughter struck me, wounding me. "Just barely," she scoffed. "What the fuck is that hairy mess? You holding a wig between your legs?"
My face deepened to scarlet. I've failed,
I thought, my first test and I've failed, she'll leave me, I'll never know!
Panic swept me at the thought of coming so close to my dream and falling short.
"That's gonna have to go, loser," she sneered again. "You want my help? You better shave that thing!"
"Yes, Dana, I will."
"You fucking better, or we're done, you worthless slag." I blanched at the invective.
"I will, please," I pleaded, "please don't..." I bit my lip against the words, afraid of their meaning. "Please don't leave me, please. Don't..."
"Show me you're worth the effort then, housewife
," she spat. "Show me you're worth it. Show me your cunt. Show the world you have one, and what it's good for." I hesitated, not understanding what she wanted. Can't she see me already? The whole neighborhood can see me!
"Go on, get your foot up on the windowsill, housewife! Spread yourself open and show me! I swear, I'll..."
"No!" I pleaded desperately. I shifted my weight, lifting a foot to the sill, forcing my knee out at an angle. I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining what I must look like, baring my secret place to the world. A tingle ran through me at my mental image of the filthy display.
"Better," she said nonchalantly, as though what I were doing was commonplace. Nothing unusual, just a lonely, needy housewife showing her...cunt at the window... "Now spread it open. Show me your deepest desires."
My hands went between my legs as I turned my face from the window. I couldn't watch her looking at me. Blood burned in my face as my fingers found my labia, weaving through my pubic hair. With a whimper I pulled them apart. Despite my fear I felt a rush of relief and excitement at the idea of showing myself.
"Nice, all pink and shiny," the tinny voice congratulated, then paused as I stood there, exposed and trembling. "Tell me, Sonia," her sly tone thick and low, "is this turning you on?" I thought I heard a muffled chuckle as I grimaced and clenched my eyes shut, turning my head. "Don't you turn away! Look at me!" Startled at her tone I forced my face to the glass, pressing my forehead against it. She was looking right at me, grinning with mischief.
"So? Is it?" the phone called out. I could see the words on her lips as she smiled. "Is showing your naked housewife body getting you hot? Huh?" I couldn't answer, didn't know if she wanted me to. My breath fogged the glass and I closed my mouth, breathing through my nose. I held my position, fingers pulling my labia wide, showing her my...cunt. That's what it is now,
the voice inside told me. You dirty slut, showing your cunt to the world!
"Is it getting all wet, Sonia? Is your lonely cunt dripping juice down your legs?" Her face maintained the evil grin, watching me as I met her requirements. "Is it all steamy and aching to be touched?" A stinging drop of sweat slipped into the corner of my eye. I blinked it away. "Touch it, Sonia. Touch it and tell me."
I heard a whispered whimper of relief as the fingers of my right hand moved those few inches. I willed my head still and my eyes open, staring across the street at Dana in her window, watching me with dark delight as my fingers found the slick flesh between my labia. I stroked up my slit as my vision tunneled, closing in on all sides until only Dana was visible. My hips twitched as my finger stroked, shifting forward, inviting the touch. The pad of my forefinger slid delicately through the slick juices, spreading it up, the fingernail trailing the flesh and adding sensation. Up, up slowly to the top of my slit, then back down to circle my opening. I gasped and fogged the glass as my finger dallied there, teasing the dripping fluid from inside.
"Ooh, yes, that's it, Sonia, stroke that slit. Tell me," she smirked, "is it a little damp, there?" Her voice, high and teasing, dropped to a low, sultry growl. "Or is it dripping wet?"
"Wet," I managed, my finger still circling, teasing the opening. "It's dripping wet."
"My..." The finger stopped and I inhaled deeply, then released the breath. "My cunt is dripping wet, Dana," I whispered.
"What was that?" she asked teasingly. "I couldn't hear you."
A second finger joined the first, playing at my opening. Tremors ran through me and I tried to remain still. My legs felt weak, wobbly. I steeled my voice and spoke more loudly.
"My cunt is dripping wet." I said out loud, my voice shattering the silence of the room, echoing back to me, sounding like someone else.
"Louder! Like you mean it!"
My control fell away. "Oh, god my fucking cunt is dripping wet fuck it's spilling out of me fuck oh fuck I'm so wet!"
And she laughed. I watched her, her mouth wide open as the derisive chortle came through the phone. I flushed red, my face and chest heated as she found amusement in my surrender.
"Oh, Sonia, you're priceless," she finally said, still chuckling. "Go ahead then," she added with a tone that made it clear she didn't care. "Finger your cunt. Get yourself off, you horny bitch."
My free hand sprang to the windowframe to hold me still as my fingers plunged inside my heated slick channel. I groaned in delight as they pushed inside, opening me, stretching the hole and filling my need. My eyelids fluttered.
"Don't you close your eyes!" she barked at me, the humor gone from her face. "And get the other hand busy! Look at me while you fuck your cunt!" I felt my eyes go wide and my free hand returned between my legs, opening my cunt for her to see, for all the world to see. I lowered my shoulder, reaching deeper and curling my fingers inside my cunt as my other hand found my clit, circling and stroking the precious pearl. I felt my fingers deep inside me, stroking my walls, cunt juice spilling into my palm. Seeing her watching, taking glee at my expression of need made the ache stronger and the thrill more sharp, more rewarding. Fear of discovery twinged inside me, fighting with the needy satisfaction my fingers gave me.
"Oh, look, Sonia, isn't that Mr. Bascombe, out walking his dog?" My eyes flew up and down the street, panicking, but fingers not stopping, my excitement in full possession, my will gone. "Oh, dear, what if he sees you, standing in the window, fingering your cunt?" A shiver rocked me and my fingers drove deeper, my other hand speeding up at my clit. "Imagine what he'll think of you, such a dirty slut, showing yourself in the window like that." My eyes found him, a few houses away, paying attention to his boston terrier, oblivious to my depravity. If his eyes wander, if he looks up, oh, God...
My pussy clenched onto my plunging fingers.
"Don't look at him, look at me," she reminded sharply. I returned my attention dutifully to her, in the window across the street, watching me. "He could just look up, see you. Oh, how he would stare, Sonia!" Her face broke into sinister glee. "He'd see your lovely titties. Watch you fuck your cunt like a little whore." My breath caught as my pussy clenched again, shamed by the possibility, shamed more by my inability, my unwillingness to stop, despite the danger. Because of the danger? Is this what Dana will show me? Is this what it will be like?
"His cock will get hard, you know. All swollen and stiff. He'd think you were doing this just for him." Her voice taunted my desire and tweaked my obedience. My swollen clit surged under my fingers, begging for more, and my hand became a blur. "He'd want to fuck you. He'd be thinking about shoving his hard cock inside your cunt, Sonia. And you would let him, wouldn't you? You want his cock, right now, don't you?"
"Y-yes-s-s," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Yes, I want his cock to fuck me!" I saw my words on her face as she heard them, turning her angry.
"Wrong!" she snapped. "No, Sonia, you fuck who I tell you to fuck, when I tell you to fuck!" Her angry words made me fuck myself harder, the thought of fucking, of Dana telling me, commanding me, showing me the dark side. I pulled a long, shuddering breath and held it as my climax began to swell inside me, climbing and building, right here in the window as she watched. "You do what I say! You're not doing this for him!" she snarled. "Are you? Are you?!"
"No!" I screeched, barely able to push the word out, my entire being focused on my impending orgasm.
"Who? Who are you doing this for? Who tells you what to do? Who did you beg for help and attention?" It screeched from her, harsh and loud and true, so true. I heard myself keening, a long needy wail as she pounded the questions at me. "Who tells you what to do? Who do you obey? Who do you fuck yourself for?"
My orgasm pushed at me, cresting and holding at the edge as I fought for the words. My fingers curled inside my cunt, pressing my g-spot as my other hand rubbed furiously at my clit, coaxing my climax over the top, urging it to explode as my voice cracked, dry and heated.
"For you, Dana! Oh! Fuck, for you, fuck I'm coming for you! Fuck, all for you! Only you!" I saw her smile again before my eyes closed and my body released, my orgasm rocketing through me as my words trailed off to unintelligible animal squeals and yips. In the corner of my mind was the knowledge that she was watching me cum, that I had pleased her, and the realization powered my climax higher. I panted, cried out and shook, my fingers immobile against my clit, my pelvis pushing against my hand, wanting the the pressure until I couldn't stand it anymore. Waves of euphoria rushed me in succession, sweeping through my body, emanating from my spasming cunt. I felt weak, scattered and shattered and my body resigned its ability to hold me up. In a flash I had my hands up, pressed against the window, leaving long wet streaks down the glass as I crumpled to a heap on my knees, my cheek smearing through the wet trails.
I breathed, hard. I could smell my cunt, my face wet with my juices, my hands and face pressed lifelessly against the cool window. Trance-like my tongue emerged, touching the tip to my slicked fingers. By the time her chuckles registered in my ears my finger were in my mouth and I was sucking my essence from them, heady and strong and musky.
"That's right, Sonia, taste your cunt," she hissed in confidence. "Suck it down, enjoy it." I whimpered and cooed as I drank my own pleasure. "That's the taste of your future, housewife
. Oh, Sonia, the things I will show you," she promised, and my head swam. "The things I will make you do..." My fingers slipped weakly from my mouth as my remaining energy abandoned me and I surrendered to the glorious afterglow fatigue. I stayed there, legs curled under me on the ottoman and leaning against the window for long, silent minutes.
Dana's voice startled me from my reverie, flat in careless detachment. "Go clean yourself up, you lonely whore," she told me. "Be near your phone tomorrow at ten."
I heard the phone disconnect as I trembled.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com
with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/reluctance/crossing-the-street.aspx">Crossing The Street</a>