Summer was ending and the sacrifices to the cool autumn evenings in the form of backyard bonfires had begun.

Our relationship had become a fun, trusting, exciting, honest, and kinky union of two souls.  She wanted to learn her limits with bondage, spanking, and orgasm denial.  To educate and enhance her own understanding of her wants, desires, and needs were extremely erotic and satisfying for me.

On the two evenings, I was at home and not on shift at the firehouse, we enjoyed one another's company.   Every night was not filled with a sex-fueled frenzy that would make a porn writer proud.  There were many nights we would go out for dinner or watch a show we both enjoyed together.  I would record the episode if it aired while I was on shift, and we would snuggle on the couch and enjoy the time together while it played.  Like a gentleman, I would walk her to her door, give her a good night hug and kiss, and return to my house.

She had continued to feed my voyeuristic fetish by walking in front of her window while wearing the tail or dropping her robe and bending over.  Her exhibition escapades were performed while we were getting ready for work in the mornings.  There were times I would stand in profile and stroke myself as she sat and put on her makeup.  She had decided to turn her guest bedroom into her prep and playroom, which was much appreciated.

We were sending messages one day while I was at my part-time job and she was at work.  I told her how I had enjoyed seeing her wear the tail with the plug and would like to see her wear it in person some time.  

“I didn’t know if you enjoyed the thought of me having a plug in my bottom,” she replied.

“I do enjoy seeing you wear the tail.  You wearing a plug is very exciting to me,” I had replied with bated breath.

“Duly noted.  Why does it excite you so much,” she asked.

I looked around to make sure my coworkers could not look over my shoulder at our conversation.  If someone at my part-time job knew the type of conversation I was having, it would not have been nearly as annoying as if the guys at the firehouse found out.  I work with the part-time job crew eight hours a day.  However, I live with the fire crew for twenty-four hours at a time.  I would never have heard the end of the banter and teasing.

“I think it excites me for a couple of reasons,” I began.  “The first reason is that you are doing something that excites you and is not something everyone enjoys.  When I watch you put in the tail, you take your time because it stretches you.  I watch the look on your face change from absorbing and accepting the sensual discomfort, to pure pleasure when it is locked in place.  The second reason is that I have never done anal, and it is a turn on thinking it is the head of my cock you are guiding in while I am watching you play.”

“Want to know something,” she asked.

“Of course,” I replied.

“I have never done anal.  But I would not oppose us playing around with it,” she said with a nervous giggle.

I felt myself get hard instantly.  Fortunately, I was away from the crew and was about to adjust my swollen cock into a comfortable position without anyone seeing.  I remember having to adjust myself a lot that day and she still teases me by saying she is going to make me “cream my jeans” while I am at work.

“I would love to play around and try,” I stated, “but, I doubt we would succeed.”

“You doubt my desire for you, my ability to show you how I can accept the little pain and discomfort that leads to orgasm, or my want of trying something new,” she had returned in a mock dominating tone.

“Remember the toilet paper tube,” was all I said.

“Oh, yeah,” was her quick reply.

One night, after we showered, she had picked up an empty toilet paper roll and tried to slip it over my semi-hard cock.  It was very rare for me to be totally flaccid when she was around and that time was no exception.  

“Put a sleeve on that guy,” she had said while giggling.

I had a towel up to my face and had no idea what she was doing until I felt the cardboard tube scrape the rim of my cock head.

“Hey, what are you doing,” I said as I jerked back.

I began laughing until tears rolled down my cheeks when I saw her expression.  She held the tube in one hand and my now hard and pulsating cock in the other.  She threw the toilet paper tube over her shoulder, sat on the toilet, and began to fill her mouth and throat with my sleeveless shaft of flesh.

“It would stretch me quite a bit,” she said.

Her words had ended my toilet paper tube remembrance and returned me to the phone conversation.

“Pain and pleasure are fun together but only if the pain does not cause a negative reaction physically, emotionally, or both,” I reminded her.

“I want to try some new, um, things, including maybe a little anal too,” she had said.

“New things, like what,” I asked.

“We can talk about it later,” she said in a mischievous tone.

“Ok, you win,” I said, “I have to get back to work so we will continue this discussion later.”

I invited her over that evening for a little bonfire in the backyard.

“Only if I can make s’mores,” she replied excitedly.

“I will stop and get all of the makings for s’mores on my way home from work,” I said in feigned exasperation.

That evening, I had set up a table with marshmallows, chocolate bars, peanut butter cups, graham crackers, and apple cider.  She had called me while I was at the store and asked if she could bring a friend.  After having no objection, she told me it was a neighbor from down the street.

I had not taken the time to know any of my other neighbors.  I would wave or smile at them while leaving for work or returning home.  Meeting a new neighbor over a bonfire and s’mores sounded like a good way to end the evening.

The fire was sending its spires of light upwards while resting on a glowing bed of coals.

“Look at all of that yumminess.”

I turned and saw two lovely ladies walking up to the fire.  She greeted me with a kiss and an ego-boosting statement.

“The snacks on the table look yummy too,” she said as she giggled.

She introduced me to her friend as I passed them sticks I had sharpened to a point so they could impale their marshmallows.  Out of habit, I looked at her friend's hands and noticed she was wearing a wedding ring.  As I said, it is a habit and it was not my intent to see if she were single so I could try to hook up with her at a later time.

She too was curvy and did not look as if she were starving herself to try and appease those men that want every woman to have the hourglass or porn body shape.  She looked healthy and wore her curves very well.

After a few marshmallows slipped off the ends of the sticks and were sacrificed to the fire gods, the three of us ate a few s’mores then refilled our glasses of warm cider.  We sat around the fire and enjoyed each other's company.  Her friend was married with two kids and according to her, “absolutely needed this night as a short get-a-way,” she said as she downed her cup of cider as if it were the finest and smoothest whiskey on the market.

“So, tell me,” she had said to me as she went to refill her cup with cider, “how did you two meet?”

“I was in the back yard and was almost knocked to the ground by the beautiful vision that stood on the other side of the fence,” I said as I smiled at my attempt at flattery.

“I know about that meeting,” she said as she sat back down, “I am talking about the informal meeting.”

They both began to giggle as they sipped their drinks while looking at me over their cups.

“Oh, um, I, uh, asked her to help me paint my house, um, because I am a terrible painter and I have no sense of decor or ability to choose complementary colors.”

I could not believe I stammered when I answered.  I realized, at that point in time, they had talked.  She knew I had watched through the window.

They both giggled at my unease.

“I think it is sexy and erotic,” she said suddenly, “to have someone get turned on when they see you is what I have dreams about.”

I was surprised by her statement.  She was not a movie star or model beautiful, but, she was attractive in my eyes.  Plus, she was married and had two kids.  Obviously, her husband was attracted to her.

“Well, you do, don’t you,” I said, “Doesn’t your husband look at you that way?  I mean, you have kids and you cannot have kids if there is no sexual attraction right?”

She lowered her cup, shrugged a shoulder, then allowed a thin smile to crease her lips.

“You would think so,” she said, “but, he stopped looking at me years ago.  I change my hair color and style and he says absolutely nothing.  He doesn’t even notice.  I make changes to my clothes and makeup, I get sexy lingerie and wear it around after the kids go to bed.  Nothing.  So, to be seen is something that I dream about.”

It surprised me and I told them how it did not make sense.

“How can a man ignore an attractive and sexy woman.  Especially one he has married and had kids?” I asked in an exasperated tone.

“Well, if you knew my husband then you can see how it happens,” she replied.

“Since everything is out in the open,” I said, “yes, I do enjoy watching her through the window.  It is very erotic.  To me, it is even more exciting that she knows I am watching her.”

“It excites me knowing he is watching,” she interjected, “I know I am being seen and wanted.  I know he is probably reacting to what I am allowing him to see.”

She winked at me after she finished speaking.  I knew she thought she would embarrass me with that statement.  However, I was not easily embarrassed.

“I do react,” I quickly replied, “sometimes I react a few times in a row, then again when I shower, and sometimes again when I lay in bed.”

I winked at her as I took a drink of my cider.

“Ok, now I’m jealous,” said her friend chuckling, “You had better hold onto him as long as you can.”

They helped me put the graham crackers and marshmallows away once I had extinguished the fire and poured a deluge of water on the coals.  The chocolate and peanut butter cups had been eaten without being transformed into s’mores.

I walked them next door and stopped at the back door.  My girl gave me a kiss and the new neighbor friend shook my hand after goodbyes were said.

After stirring the coals and making sure they were cool, I went into the house and took a shower.  As I was drying off I heard my phone indicate I had a message.  I wrapped a towel around my waist, went to the nightstand, and picked it up.

“Peek a boo.”

I smiled at the message then turned to the window.

Once again, I tiptoed to the window, sneaking so I would not get caught.  It was silly for me to tiptoe, but it added to the excitement.

I tilted a slat and could see her on the bed with the mirror angled so I could see her dildo filled pussy.  My phone rang and I was surprised to see it was her number.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi, Sir.”

“You look very tasty.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she said as her breathing increased, “Can you hear how wet I am?”

“I can,” I said with a growl.

“There is something else we want you to see,” she said after a moan.

“We,” I questioned.

“Yes, Sir.  I have you on speakerphone.”

I saw a shadowy figure enter the door and place a chair next to the bed.

“Can he see me,” I heard the newcomer ask through the phone?

“Is that your friend,” I asked?

“Yes it is,” she replied, “she wants to be seen too.”

I watched her put the phone down on the bed as she continued to piston the dildo and pinch her nipples with the other hand.  She did not disconnect so I could hear every wet thrust and satisfying moan she made.  Her friend opened then dropped the bathrobe she was wearing, sat in the chair, and began to rub herself.

I slowly raised the blinds in their highest setting then sat my phone on the dresser next to the window.  The sounds of two sexy women masturbating filled my room.  I reached down with one hand and loosened my towel.  As it fell to the floor, I heard them both moan then one mutter an, “oh god.”

My bathroom light was on but my bedroom light was off.  This created a silhouette of my body with one hand on the wall next to the window and the other slowly stroking my hardened shaft.  Both ladies were rubbing their clits and gyrating their hips to a frenzied state.

Unable to hold back any longer, I growled, “You are seen,” then erupted on the window.