Through the small hole, Sarah’s field of view was obscured by something blue. Then the blue thing moved away, toward Nancy and her bare chest, and she realized it was the back of Joe’s jeans. His shirt was off, like hers. He put his hands on both of her breasts, then stooped to playfully lick one of them. Nancy slapped him away, then donned a T-shirt.
She pulled her jeans off. Joe did the same. Nancy reached for a pair of pajama pants and pulled them on, then turned to what Sarah assumed was a mirror and began pulling her hair into a pony tail.
Joe walked from one end of the room to the other only in his boxers. He pulled a pair of pajama pants from his bag.
They were just changing into comfortable clothes for the evening. Sarah realized she felt disappointed. Her hand was still rubbing her jeans, though, hopeful.
Nancy, still fussing with her hair, said, “It’s nice to get away up here. Not much to do in the cold, though.”
“There’s plenty to do,” said Joe. Sarah watched as his hand briefly clasped the seat of her pants.
Nancy turned to face him. “You’re bad,” she said. “You shouldn’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”
His arms went around her. “Oh, I intend to finish. And to make you finish. Several times.”
Nancy giggled, but the sound was a little less frivolous this time. Then she stopped giggling entirely as Joe kissed her, then moved down and nibbled her neck. Sarah had a clear view of Nancy’s face from her peephole, and saw that her eyes were closed.
Nancy’s hand went into Joe’s boxers. The hand pulled partway out, went back in, and repeated. She was stroking him. The motion of her forearm pushed Joe’s boxers down enough that Sarah could see the tip of his cock. When she saw it, something like a thunderbolt caused Sarah’s abdomen to contract. Her hand went back to her crotch, but this time it went under her jeans, over her panties.
Now you’re a peeper? said a voice in her head.
She ran a finger over an already-spreading wetness and told the voice to be quiet.
Nancy’s hand came out of Joe’s boxers.
“We’ll pick this up tonight,” said Nancy with a sly smile. Then Joe pulled on his pants and shirt, and they walked out to join Vicki and Edward in the main room of the cabin.
Sarah was distracted for the entire evening.
She didn’t drink and therefore had already written the evening off in advance as an obnoxious loss, but the obnoxious loss dragged on and on and on for what felt like forever. After dinner (noodles and Dinty Moore beef stew; Vicki had put Edward in charge of groceries and had had much to say when she saw what he’d chosen), Vicki wanted to play one of the board games they found in a closet. Because it was Vicki, she wanted to turn it into a drinking game, but because Vicki and Edward were the only big drinkers, the idea fell mostly flat. Unwilling to give up the drinking component of the game, Vicki decreed that while she and Edward would have to take a drink at certain points, the others could forego drinking in favor of doing some embarrassing act. What resulted was a lopsided, inebriated version of Truth or Dare wherein all of the dares ended up being “dance like a chicken.” After her fifth drink, Vicki thought the idea was hilarious.
Throughout it all, Sarah’s eye was repeatedly drawn to small signals that Nancy gave Joe and that Joe gave back to Nancy. Sometimes she’d wink. Sometimes he’d grab her ass when he thought nobody was looking. Sometimes she’d make an over-the-top licking motion with her tongue and then laugh, at which point someone else would ask her what was funny and she’d say that it was nothing.
Every time Sarah saw one of these things happen — and she realized she was trying quite hard to see them — something within her tingled and a dirty, sly thought rose to the surface: I know what they’re going to be doing later … and if I want to, I can watch them do it.
Part of her wanted Nancy and Joe to get tired and pass out before they could get to that thing she knew was coming so that she wouldn’t have to feel conflicted about her reaction to it, but another, more insistent part of her wanted them to hurry up and get to it. What she’d seen earlier, as small as it had been, was like a persistent ghost floating around inside of her head. She could feel her forehead pressed against the wood of the logs, and wanted more.
Eventually, Edward and Vicki started dancing like chickens themselves and collapsed into obnoxious laughter, then slowly descended into twin stupors. At this point, Joe stood up and said, “Well, I guess I’ll head off to bed.”
“No, don’t go!” said Vicki from the floor. “You have to dance some more!”
Edward guffawed.
“I got up early,” said Joe. “’Night, all.” And he plodded back toward the bedroom.
Sarah watched Nancy as closely as she could without being obvious. A flush ran up Nancy’s neck and into her face. Her breath seemed to quicken. Her chest rose and fell, and Sarah even imagined — it had to be her imagination — that Nancy’s shirt seemed fuller, as if her breasts were swelling slightly.
She’s anticipating, thought Sarah.
All evening, starting with the groping hours earlier, Nancy and Joe had been engaged in a long and dramatic kind of foreplay. Now it was time to cash in, and what Sarah was seeing was the truth of it hitting Nancy. Sarah knew the feeling, because she felt it, too. She was anticipating every bit as much as Nancy was. It was as if she was the one who had been trading looks and touches with Joe — or, hell, maybe even with Nancy. They were like a threesome about to happen, even though two of them didn’t know it.
Nancy stood, trying to seem casual. She was quieter than usual when she said, “I guess I’ll go to bed, too.”
Vicki and Edward, nosing into sleep, said nothing.
Nancy turned to Sarah and smiled. “Goodnight. You staying up?”
“I think I’ll read out here on the couch,” said Sarah. She felt devilish saying it. Her jeans felt too tight. Her head was almost woozy.
Nancy nodded, walked back to the bedroom, and closed the door. There was a small noise as the lock clicked into place. It was very quiet, as if the person doing it didn’t want anyone to hear it.
Sarah stood up quietly. She was in her socks already, the floors didn’t creak, and the door hinges didn’t squeal. If Nancy came out, Sarah could say she’d changed her mind, that Vicki and Edward’s breath was gross, so she decided to go into her room.
She walked in and closed the door, then quietly latched it. She went over and kneeled on the bed, which was some kind of memory foam and didn’t make noise when she climbed onto it. She put her eye to the crack in the mortar, her hand already tracing circles around her belly button.
What she saw almost made her cum instantly.
Joe and Nancy hadn’t wasted any time. They’d already had hours of foreplay, so there was no more subtlety. Sarah watched as Joe pulled Nancy’s shirt off, revealing those small, perky breasts. She watched as Nancy pulled Joe’s shirt off, revealing a torso that was every bit as nice as she’d thought it would be.
Their mouths were frantic on each other. Their hands were even more frantic. Nancy’s hand shot under the waistband of Joe’s pants and boxers as if she’d dropped something and meant to catch it before it hit the ground. Once inside, the hand began to stroke. Sarah could see her hand rotating under the fabric, twisting, giving it a circular motion.
Then Joe’s hand went into Nancy’s pants, down the front until nothing below the wrist was visible, and then he began to rub, too. Nancy’s mouth opened. She involuntarily bent forward from the waist, her breasts hanging, those pretty nipples like circles of pink liquid about to drip off of the end. For a while, Joe and Nancy continued to stand in the middle of the room, rubbing frantically.
Back in her room, Sarah stood and pulled off everything below the waist. She put her eye to the hole, saw that the action hadn’t yet progressed, and decided that she wanted to be completely naked for this. She pulled off the rest of her clothes, including her socks, and knelt again on the bed, the room’s chill air raising
goosebumps on her flesh. Or maybe it was something else in the atmosphere that was causing the goosebumps. And the stiffening nipples. And the wetness where her thighs met, which she found by sliding a finger inside.
You shouldn’t watch this, said a small voice — the voice of proper Sarah, perhaps. But that voice was very weak, very quiet, and had already had its pointless say earlier. Sarah ignored it.
A somewhat more insistent voice said, You should at least be jealous. After all, she wanted Joe, and this bitch Nancy was with him instead.
But a third voice — a voice that came not from her head but from somewhere else — said that for now, watching Joe fuck someone else was as close as she was going to get, so she might as well use her imagination and enjoy it.
Sarah slid two fingers inside of herself, pulled them out, and then rolled the wet fingers over her erect clit. She began to rub it, slowly.
Through the hole, Sarah watched as the couple in the other room pulled off the rest of each other’s clothes — first Joe to Nancy, and then Nancy to Joe. Joe’s cock sprang up.
Sarah slid her fingers back into the wetness between her legs and gave an involuntary exhale. She wasn’t precisely attracted to the cock in and of itself, but she was excited by the idea of what it was about to do. As she watched it and as she moved her fingers in and out, she imagined what it might feel like sliding inside of her with his chest against hers, his breath on her neck.
The bed in the adjoining room was on the wall Sarah was peering through, its headboard against the logs and the mattress pointing out into the room. Once they’d stripped, Joe and Nancy trotted toward it urgently, as if a clock was ticking. Nancy was mostly shaved, so as she came forward, Sarah saw how pink her lower lips had become. They were positively swollen with anticipation. Sarah glanced down between her own hanging breasts and looked at her own sex, and saw the same. Everything below looked flushed and puffy. It appeared to be in desperate need of attention, so Sarah gave it the attention it needed, increasing the speed of her rubbing. She could feel the sensations inside of herself rising. She was already getting close.
Joe bent Nancy over at the foot of the bed, her face toward Sarah. He looked down at Nancy’s bare ass, and then, even though Sarah couldn’t see the details, she could tell he was guiding his cock into her. Nancy gasped. Nancy’s face was maybe four feet from Sarah’s, and Sarah fancied she could almost feel Nancy’s breath on her.
Then Joe started to thrust and Nancy’s breasts started to sway. Nancy closed her eyes. With each thrust, tiny grunts came out of her. Sarah could tell she was making an effort to be quiet, which made the fact that Sarah was able to observe them anyway even hotter.
Sarah licked her finger, tasting herself on them. Then she used all four of her fingers to rub her clit. She was so wet. She rubbed faster, the wetness of the noise now almost loud enough to give her away. She slid three fingers inside of herself, and still something in her wanted more.
After a few minutes of thrusting, Joe backed away. Sarah could see his cock flop out of Nancy, and saw how it glistened with her lubrication.
“Get on top,” Joe whispered. It was a whisper, but Sarah heard it as if Joe had whispered it into her own ear.
Across the wall, the couple climbed onto the mattress, which was also a quiet memory foam. They were too close to her peephole for Sarah to see all of the action, but she watched Nancy’s naked chest as she looked down and reached below with one hand. Her torso rose slightly. Then the hand came away and it settled back down a few inches, and a sigh came out of her.
Nancy’s chest began to rise and fall, her breasts swaying. Sarah closed her eyes and began to mimic the motion, sliding up and down on fingers.
“I love seeing you on top of me,” Joe whispered to Nancy.
I love having you inside of me, Sarah thought.
“You’re so wet.”
It’s because you’re turning me on so much.
“Turn over,” he whispered, and Sarah was so tuned up that she could almost feel his breath on her ear.
Sarah rolled onto her back on the bed, abandoning the peephole. She wouldn’t be able to see anything now anyway; they were too close. And besides, she had the best view in the world — in the theater of her mind.
Sarah closed her eyes. She spread her legs wide, bending them at the knees, feeling herself open to the cool room air. But even with her legs akimbo, she found herself wanting to be more open. She spread her legs wider, lying her knees on the bed. The moving air from the heating ducts across her smooth, wet folds was scintillating. She touched herself, moving faster, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted something inside. She didn’t own a dildo, and wouldn’t have taken one on a trip even if she did, but for the first time, she wished she were slutty enough to do something like that. But for now, absent a penis or a dildo, her fingers would have to do.
She formed the first three fingers of her right hand into a quasi-cylinder, then slid them inside.
Over her shoulder, not two feet away, Nancy moaned. The moan was loud enough to be heard, which meant that Nancy’s passion had finally overrun her desire to be discreet. Sarah answered the moan with her own — quiet enough to be safe, but loud enough that she’d never be sure.
The mattress next door was quiet, but the frame of the bed now began to shake and squeak. Over her shoulder, Sarah could hear Joe’s breathing as it picked up pace. She heard a wet slapping sound that matched the rhythmic shaking of the bed. There were small, self-conscious grunts in a male voice and larger, throatier, less-self-conscious moans in a female voice. It was all so, so close. If not for the wall, all Sarah would have had to do to touch both of them would be to reach her hand over her head.
Sarah’s knees reached down for the bed, wanting to open further. She moved her hand faster, matching the thrusting of her surrogate cock to the rhythm of the real cock five feet away. She blocked out Nancy’s moans and replaced them with her own. She ran her other hand over her breasts, imagining that the feeling was the tickle of Joe’s chest brushing up against her as he thrusted.
“I’m cumming!” Joe whispered.
I’m cumming, too, thought Sarah. Put your cock in me and make me come, Joe!
And then, as two simultaneous exclamations of pleasure came raw and unsuppressed from behind her, Sarah came in a great, clenching wave. Her knees rose from the bed, slamming together. She felt her insides squeezing her fingers in spastic waves that were awash with liquid. Her legs opened, closed, then opened again as her hips bucked, her tunnel devouring her still-thrusting fingers. Then she closed her legs one final time, the hand-cock still inside of her, and squeezed it until the last flutters of her orgasm passed.
In her own throes, she realized she’d missed the conclusion from the other room. Everything was quiet.
Very close, she heard Joe say, “You make me so hot, baby.”
And Sarah replied, very, very quietly, “You make me hot, too, baby.”
About the Author
Hi, I’m Lexi!
I write sexy stories about people who know what they want and aren’t afraid to reach out and take it.
I think that most books would have erotic elements if more writers were willing to tell the truth, and I’m not afraid to let the camera roll in the intimate places where other authors would yell “cut.”
I believe that sexy stories allow us to learn more about ourselves, and see how sex and intimacy fit into our world—so I write those stories and then share them with you.
Thank you for reading! If you’d like to know when I release something new, Follow me using one of the links below or join my newsletter at leximaxxwell.com!
~ Lexi Maxxwell
Where to find me:
@leximaxxwell
LexiMaxxwell
amazon.com/author/leximaxxwell
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Filthy Dirty Normal, Volume 2 Page 5
