Cass was restless and hot, it felt stifling in her little flat. It was late, but she couldn’t sleep because of the heat, so she decided to make the most of the gentle breeze outside and sit on her balcony with a glass of wine and have a cigarette.

She sat down on the soft mat she had laid on the balcony for nights like this, and leaned her back against the wall, with her knees bent upwards, legs parted. She lit her cigarette, savouring the taste as she watched the smoke curl up into the air, and sipped her wine. She was wearing a black singlet and a small pair of black light cotton shorts, so that she could get as much air on her skin as possible.

Cass lived on the top floor of a block of flats and she always felt a sense of privacy and seclusion when she was on her balcony, the world was moving around below her, but she was above it all, separate. There was quite a wide gap between the balcony wall and the floor, which meant that even though she felt unseen, she was in the perfect position to watch and listen to the people in the block of flats next door. She was particularly interested in the activity of the main entrance, which seemed to be a hive of activity, especially late at night. People coming and going, but more often than not, just stepping outside to have a cigarette or talk on their mobile phones. She loved the feeling of watching and listening, and no one knowing. It was her secret.

The block of flats next door mainly housed uni students, mostly male, with a surprisingly large proportion of them being quite fit, muscular and attractive, with a casual confident air. She felt slightly voyeuristic in observing and listening to these attractive young men, but not enough to make her stop, after all, what was wrong with appreciating a beautiful body. Men do that sort of thing all the time, so why not her?

Over time, the more she did this, she found herself creating stories around these young men. What they had been doing before they came outside, what they would do when they went back inside, and because of their virile bodies and attitudes, her imagination would often take her to a world of hot, raw, sex. She would imagine them fucking, their girlfriends, or someone they had picked up at a party, and then she’d imagine what it would be like for one of them to fuck her. She remembered what guys were like at that age, so much testosterone pumping through their bodies, that they could never seem to get enough.

Cass was an attractive woman, in her thirties, she took great pleasure in keeping her body in good shape, and she had a firey passionate nature. Despite this, she had not had a boyfriend for quite some time, none of them men she met seemed suit her and it had been a while since anyone had been able to ignite her flame. Cass was a very sexual and sensual person though, so she had created a rich and arousing fantasy world to provide her with the stimulus to release her sexual tension. She visited this world often, and for the most part she was satisfied, but still, she sometimes found herself craving that unique chemistry that can only be created by connecting with a real man.

She vividly remember when she was at uni, around the same age as these young men that she had become so entranced with watching, and she yearned for the kind of raw, passionate, almost animalistic sex that she had when she was that age, where everything was so fun, new and exciting. It wasn’t always the best sex, but what her partners may have lacked in finesse at that stage in their lives, they made up for in enthusiasm, creating a potent sexual energy. That raw, animalistic passion that she had felt from her partners and within herself was something she missed, and longed to feel again now. And with the plethora of beautiful young men she now had to spy on, she allowed herself to indulge in her fantasies about them at her leisure.

On this particular night, sitting on her balcony, drinking her wine and smoking a cigarette in the balmy heat, she allowed herself to drift into this fantasy world again, stimulated by her voyeuristic position, seeing but not being seen. She heard the front door of the flats open, and she looked down to see who it was. It was someone new, someone she had not observed before. He was only wearing a pair of board shorts hanging low on his hips. A sheen of sweat on his chest and arms highlighting his muscular physique, and she imagined how it would feel to touch his slick, firm body.

Then, to her shock, this stranger looked up. No one had ever looked up before, but he was definitely looking, and it seemed that he was looking straight at her. She felt herself flush with excitement and pretended not to notice him, but she found the idea of being watched, by this stranger, far more arousing than she had ever felt when she was the one watching.

She felt powerful from her third floor position, up high above this man and his gaze. He seemed fascinated by her. She felt so turned on by this that she had an almost irresistible urge to do something she had never done before. So, under his watchful gaze, pretending she hadn’t noticed him, she took a sip of wine, and slowly, languidly, pulled her singlet up over her head. She felt his eyes on her body, on her breasts. This combined with the delicious sensation created by the gentle breeze on her bare skin, and she felt a shiver run through her body and her nipples begin to harden. She felt almost in a trancelike state as she found herself trailing her fingers over one breast and then circling her nipple slowly with one finger. She looked down to see if he was still watching. And it was clear she had a captive audience.

He was still, and staring, cigarette forgotten, dangling from his fingers, and his other hand was resting on the front of his shorts. She felt her breasts swell and her nipples harden even more in response to his gaze and her own touch. She continued slowly playing with her breasts, relishing how they felt, and basking in the feeling of being watched while she did this. She was now feeling so hot, inside and out, that she felt a trickle of sweat run between her breasts and down her body as her temperature rose. She felt herself becoming wet, ready for sex.

She was still sitting with her legs slightly parted, so she then slid her hand down under the waistband of her shorts and touched herself. She was wet, very wet, she had not felt this good in a long time. Her eyes locked with the strangers, he was staring, mesmerized and she could see that he was aroused. So, she took another sip of wine, and then casually, lifted her buttocks and slid her shorts and underwear down her legs. She had a beautiful, delicate body, which had not been looked at by anyone but her for such a long time, and she felt a great surge of pleasure and empowerment in having it enjoyed by someone else. Now, she was still in the same position as when he had first looked up, but totally naked, totally exposed, with her creamy white skin glowing in the soft light from the opened balcony doorway.

She wondered if he could see the wetness glistening between her legs. She imagined he must be able to as she saw that he had released his cock from the confines of his shorts and that he was masturbating while watching her.

She wanted to be fucked so badly. She parted her legs a little further, to make sure he could see what she was doing, and she put her hand down and touched herself again. He couldn’t fuck her, so she’d show him what he was missing. She felt saturated by her own juices as she slid her fingers into her cunt, then drew them out again, sliding her fingers out and up, lubricating the path to her clitoris. She gently rubbed and played with her clitoris until it became exquisitely sensitive, but she did not want to come too quickly. She was on fire, and she could see that he was too.

So she slid her fingers down between her legs again, deep into her core, until she found her g-spot. The sensation almost took her breath away as she moved her fingers in and out, stimulating this most sensitive part of her. She was kneading her breast with one hand as her fingers slid in and out, and she lost herself in the fantasy that it was his cock filling her, moving inside her. She knew she was going to come, there was no turning back now.

Her movements became more frantic, the feeling more intense, she could see that three floors below her, his movements and sensations were matching hers. They were separate, unable to touch each other, but it felt like they were fucking. She felt her thighs start to tremble and her stomach muscles tighten. Her eyes locked with the strangers, and she knew they were going to come together. She felt her body convulse, and a warm rush of liquid over her fingers and between her thighs as she reached an explosive climax. They were strangers, but they had shared this moment.

She was still trembling with the intensity of the experience as he mouthed the words thank you and turned and walked back inside the block of flats.

– Judi Reed, 2012