Angie's Show

I'm not going to lie and say that when I first saw Angie I was in love with her, because I wasn't. We were in high school, and I was probably caught up some other girl, so it's likely she didn't register much. I must have noticed her on some level, I guess, because I can still imagine what she looked like then, although maybe that image in my mind is just pure fantasy.

Anyways, what I remember of her then, imagined or not, still keeps me up some nights. She was gorgeous. All sex without being obvious, and all innocence without coming across as naive. She had long, dark hair that fell past her shoulders, and long tan legs reaching up to her small but perfectly rounded ass. She was a thin girl all over. Mostly now I guess I appreciate curves a little more, but maybe that's just because I've never met a girl who could wear Angie's look like Angie.

Her eyes were dark too, and she had these high cheekbones that always made her look real severe which was off-putting at first, but when she smiled her face was all light. I don't know when it happened, or why, but I remember sitting in class one day, tracing the curve of her thigh with my eyes all the way up to the hem of her shorts, just an inch or two below heaven, and that was it. I was hers.

From then on, my attentions were undivided, my focus was unquestionable, and my intentions were impure. Goddamn if there wasn't something about her. We started to talk between classes, and she smiled a lot when we did. She told me she was on the volleyball team, and suddenly I was going to watch her play. I didn't catch much of the game. I did catch over an hour of seeing her silky smooth legs carry her around the court, of seeing her tits, which always seemed to me to be just a perfect handful, bounce as she jumped up and down.

I'd sit in the bleachers and every once in a while she'd smile my way, and I'd figure she was jumping up and down for me. She'd turn away from me and bend over, and I'd see her skin-tight spandex hug her ass, showing just about as much smooth, tan skin as they could without being indecent. I'd close my eyes and think about sliding those shorts down her legs, grabbing her panties and working them down too as she arched her back, ready to feel my hands on those legs, on that ass, working towards her tight, wet pussy.

Then I'd shake my head and remember where I was. That happened a lot for a while. That was my life, always talking, always wanting, always fantasizing, always needing a cold shower, and pretty soon she caught on. Pretty soon she started to like all the attention I couldn't help giving her. Pretty soon she'd turn to me just so, show me a little more ass, a little more cleavage, a little more skin than she needed to, and she'd smile at me, her face all light, and my heart skipping a beat.

Yeah, it went that way for a while, which was alright, only I was young, and nervous, and even as she made it clearer and clearer that all I'd need to do was make a move, I didn't. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking then. I don't know how I passed all those months with nothing to show for all those stolen looks, all those light and almost awkward exchanges, all those missed opportunities. I know that eventually she got tired of waiting. I know that senior prom rolled around and she joked about going together a few times, and I never asked because I figured I'd rather drink, and so she went with Eric.

Eric was my friend. Eric knew about what me and Angie had, or didn't have. Eric wasn't going to do anything, he only asked her because neither of them had anyone to go with. Our friend Paul was having a party after the dance, and I showed up early to get hammered. As the dance ended and people started to show up at Paul's, I kept an eye out for them. For a long time they didn't show, and I drank more and more as the reality of the situation sank in, that they had probably left the dance and gotten a hotel room somewhere.

When they finally showed up sometimes past one I was hopeful, in spite of myself. I didn't know where they had been for the past couple hours, but if they were fucking in some seedy motel outside of town, it was unlikely they'd leave there to come here. Fucked up as I was though, I could tell that she was drunk. She hung on to Eric with both hands, and smiled at him, and leaned against him just so, more than she probably needed to. He held her by the waist, and talked too loud, and laughed too much. It hurt me to see them more than I would have thought. She had no eyes for me that night, and as much as I wanted to come between them, as much as I wanted to step up and pull her away, I couldn't. I only watched, watched until it was too much.

I grabbed a smoke and headed out back, behind the small guest house where Paul's parents let us crash some drunken nights. They were always cool like that, didn't care if we got a little shitty as long as we didn't drive. I went back there with a cigarette, and a drink, and a cold, dark weight sitting in my chest like an empty bottle. I did my best to fill it up.

I sat there for a long time trying to forget what I had seen, trying to forget what I was feeling. I don't know how long I sat there, under the stars, before I heard a noise from the guest house behind me. I turned around and faced the window, and there they were, Eric and Angie, attacking each other, working towards the bed. There I was, in the dark, knowing they couldn't see me, wishing I could leave, or scream, or do anything. But I didn't. I just stood there, and looked on.

She was wearing this short black dress which went maybe halfway to her knees, and showed off half her chest. Fuck, that dress. It cut down almost to her navel giving me a full view of her tan and silky skin, of her small tanlines, of her gorgeous, perky tits. At first the were just kissing, but she grabbed the lapels of his tuxedo hard, and pushed him onto the small cot.

"I don't have a condom," I heard him slur, drunkenly.

"You don't need one," I heard her reply, as she straddled him. They didn't say anything past that, or else I don't remember it.

I saw him slide his hand under her dress and grab her tit. Even from the distance I was at I could see his hand work under the soft fabric, grabbing her nipple between his thumb and his hand, work it back and forth roughly. I could hear her moan. I could almost feel the heat coming off of her, could almost feel her getting wet. She was already moving her hips, rubbing her pussy up and down across the growing bulge in his pants.

My heart dropped out as I watched them continue, and something deep inside me knew that I couldn't handle watching what was about to happen, and part of me knew that I couldn't stop. I wanted to walk away, or to close my eyes, or even to get caught, to make them stop. I knew I wouldn't. I knew what was happening, knew what was going to happen.

She was moaning more loudly now, more regularly. He kissed her hard then, and didn't stop as he pulled the straps of her dress down past her shoulder, pulled it down to her waist. Suddenly, I found myself wishing not that they would stop, but that I had a better angle on what was going on. She was naked from the waist up now, but facing away from me, showing me only her smooth back which arched as he worked her nipples more now.

He stopped kissing her suddenly, and dropped his head to her chest. I heard her moan louder. I imagined him slipping her nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over them. I heard her gasp. She moved one hand up behind her head and turned slightly towards me, giving me a brief flash of her on free breast. It was beautiful, perky, fuller than I would have though. Her small, pink nipple was hard from excitement, and her breathy sighs got louder and louder.

Suddenly, she stopped, and pulled back, and for a moment I had hope. She stepped up, back from the cot, but didn't pull her dress up. Instead, she dropped to her knees and began to unzip his pants. Eric smiled, sighed and laid his head back and she pulled out his hard cock. She began working her hand up and down the shaft slowly, deliberately, but soon sped up. Eric started to breath more and more heavily, and she let out a little moan now and then. I thought about her kneeling on the floor, her dress pulled halfway down, and now probably riding up as well. Maybe I could see her ass, I thought, maybe I could see her panties if I got closer to the window. Still, I couldn't move. I don't know why, but I realized I didn't want to get caught. I didn't want them to stop.

After jerking him off a while longer, she slowly brought her tongue to his shaft. She slowed down as she ran it up and down until his breathing sped even more, until he seemed to be begging for her to take him in her mouth. She worked her tongue around the head of his cock now fully swollen and hard, until she finally opened her mouth, until she finally slipped him inside of her.

She bobbed her head up and down, faster and faster, her hand still firmly gripping the base of his dick, and despite myself I could feel my cock swell. I thought about her smooth, sweet lips wrapped around my own dick, feeling that warm wetness, rolling her nipple in my fingers, feeling her moan in my crotch. I unzipped my pants as I watched her take him deeper and deeper into her mouth, and pulled out my own swollen cock, started stroking slowly, then faster, in pace with her own motions.

I didn't stop to think for a moment then about what would happen if I got caught, or even about how I wished it was me in there instead of Eric. All I could think of was the curve of her thigh. All I could think of was her ass in that skin tight spandex. All I could think of was her soft lips, her tongue, her eyes closed and her tits out, just a few feet away.

Soon though, Eric grabbed her arms, stopped her, and pulled her up. She knew what he wanted, and from the way she moved she wanted it too. In just a few seconds she was back on the cot, kissing him. She stood, briefly, and slid her black, lace panties down to her ankles. For a moment I was worried I wouldn't be able to see enough from where I was standing, but as she straddled him again and hiked her tight black dress up past her waist, I finally got the full view I had been dreaming of for months. I finally saw that perfect, rounded ass, her tight young pussy, and all that soft brown skin.

She kissed him a while longer as she rubbed her pussy up and down his shaft. Even from where I stood I could tell she was dripping wet, could tell she wanted him in her. He grabbed her ass with one hand, held her forward as he adjusted his cock, and then let her slide back down onto him. They both sighed, but it was the sound of the soft little moans that escaped her mouth as he began to slowly fuck her that almost brought me to climax. With each thrust he went fast, with each thrust she took more of him until she was bouncing up and down, taking the length of his dick as I jerked my own, at once miserable and excited, hot and incredibly cold.

He grabbed her ass again, hard then, and after a moment I saw him begin to work a finger into her ass. She moaned more loudly then, rocked hard and harder onto his dick. She raised herself suddenly, and turned. I ducked down quickly, but as she lowered herself onto him again, her eyes closed and her tits now facing the window I couldn't help but stand, dick in hand, and take it all in.

She rocked back and forth, her tits bouncing. I almost laughed. It made me think of watching her volleyball games, running around the court. Only then at least I could convince myself that some part of her was thinking of me. Now, I knew, it was just her. Just her and Eric. Finally, he spoke again.

"Fuck, Angie, I'm gonna cum."

She lay back on top of him then, turned her head around and kissed him again, but didn't stop working her hips, didn't stop riding him. I saw his movements become more and more erratic, heard him breathe louder and louder, and finally heard her moan as he unloaded in her. In that moment it was finally too much for me and full of shame, and guilt, and anger and excitement I came myself, cumming all over the grass.

They both lay back for a moment, panting, as I was panting myself. She sat up then, raised herself off him, and sat on the bed next to him. She moved her hand down to her pussy, and as she raised it up again I could see her fingers wet with jizz. Then, in that moment, she looked up. She didn't just look out the window, she looked at me, she met my eyes. I froze for a moment, unable to move, unable to make a sound as I stood there with my dick in my hand.

I half expected her to yell , to try to cover up, to call me a pervert. I half expected her to tell Eric to get outside, to kick my ass. She didn't yell though, and she didn't cover up. She leant forward just a little, just so, to give me a fuller view of her tits. Then she smiled at me, just a half smile, and brought her finger to her mouth, and kept them there.

Suddenly, I could move again. Suddenly, I couldn't stop moving. I zipped my pants up, turned back to the house and ran. I got to my car, and despite all the drinking I'd done that not I got in the driver's seat, somehow made it home, and passed out in my own bed,

It was a long time until I got over the shame and embarrassment of that night. It was a long time before I allowed myself to believe that she really had seen me, that she really had wanted me to see. It was a long time before I spoke to Angie again, but when I did, it was worth it.