Come to My Window

I remember it was spring; I had just had a birthday a week or two before. I'm just out of the shower, trying to figure out what to wear. I'm standing in front of my dresser mirror, towel secured around me, rubbing moisturizer into my face when I hear the noise of trucks outside my bedroom window, down by the street. I turn and cross the room, going to the windows. Careful to remain unseen, I twitch back the curtain slightly to get a peek at what's going on. I can see two power company trucks and 3 guys in uniforms with the company logo on them. They're standing around, talking, and half-heartedly trying to get the arm of the bucket truck to move. There's already one guy in the bucket, looking exasperatedly up at the power line that crosses the street and connects to our house, RIGHT next to the window I'm standing in.

I'm suddenly very aware that under this towel, I'm utterly naked. I'm also suddenly aware that I have an urge for this man to see me, standing here, utterly naked underneath my towel.

I kept staring out the window, still hidden, as I shivered with excitement and fear.

I took a step closer to the window, and then another, until I was entirely framed by it. I held the towel in place with one hand and used the other to push the curtain back all the way, allowing the widest view into my room, and of me. The guy in the bucket was on his way up, slowly. He hadn't noticed me standing there yet, but one of the guys down on the road had. He gazed up at me and said something to his coworker, who also looked up, surprised. He said something to the guy in the bucket, and he finally looked over and spotted me.

Nerves overtake me for a moment, and I step back, away from them. My stomach is in knots but I'm also excited, and that telltale heat and wetness has started between my legs. There is a throbbing there that I recognize and enjoy.

I take a deep breath and step forward again, making eye contact with the man in the bucket. I judge him to be in his thirties, handsome, and the expression he wears is one of interest and also nervousness. He looks at my face, then his eyes fasten on the top of my towel. I grip it now with both hands, and slowly pull it down and apart, still mostly covering my breasts, but not entirely. I'm gauging reaction, but I also want to make this moment last. I've never shown myself like this to a man before and I want to burn this experience into my brain.

I keep pulling at the towel, until finally only my nipples are covered, and then I let it drop in a heap at my feet, and I stand there, naked, six feet away from a stranger. I'm uncertain of what to do next, but I find myself running my hands over my breasts, looking right into the eyes of the surprised and apparently pleased electrician.

I pass my thumbs over my erect nipples and tug them gently, breathing harder, pressing my thighs together. I glance down at the other men on the ground. They're looking up at me too, as if mesmerized. Empowered, I turn slightly toward them and take another step closer to the window. I press my breasts into the glass briefly, the cold pane making my already hard nipples even harder.

Stepping back, I return my attention to the guy in the bucket truck, and I run my hands down my stomach, across my hips, down to my wet little pussy. I step forward again, and shift my weight toward the window and slightly up so that he can see my wetness, so he can watch my fingers graze over my swollen little clit and back again. He licks his lips and reaches down to touch himself through his trousers, pressing the flat of his palm against himself. With the other hand, he motions for me to open the window, I can hear him in a muffled voice say, "Open up for me, sweetheart, go on." Aware that this is nearing some kind of significant point, but not knowing what sort, I smile and shake my head and look down at his hand again.

He's opening his zipper, his hand disappears inside for a moment, and then he takes out his hard, thick cock. I am fascinated. I can't turn my eyes away. I'm surprised to see that I am indeed opening the window, the cool spring air hits my skin like a thousand licking tongues but I barely notice because I'm entranced by what this man in front of me is holding in his hand. I make no move to reach out, and he makes no move to encourage me. We stand like that for a moment, not touching, yet unmistakably engaged. Slowly, he resumes stroking his thick length and I absentmindedly play with my nipples, never looking away, each fascinated by what the other is doing. "Touch yourself for me honey," he says in a deep, raspy voice. "Touch that pussy again sweetie, show me."

I come closer to the window, my thighs hitting on the sill, and I slide my hand down, find my clit again. I work my two fingers on either side, making them slick, barely penetrating myself on the down stroke. I use one hand to pull back, make it easier for him to see, and use the other to rub that little button back and forth, all under his intense gaze. His hand is moving faster, harder, his breath is catching in his chest. His stroke never falters though, and his voice is slightly louder now, more authoritative, "Come on honey and finish for me, come for me baby let me see you come, I want to see."

I close my eyes briefly, take a deep breath and shoot a leg out the window, settling first one side of my ass, then the other on the window sill, legs dangling out in the air. We are closer now, he and I, and had the top half of my body not been literally behind glass, I could have reached out and touched him. I am certainly within his reach, though he thankfully does not try to close the distance.

The men below catcall and whistle and there are murmured words I cannot hear, but I can feel their eyes on me, and I like it. My heart is beating wildly, none of this seems real, and yet I feel the most myself I have ever felt. I look up at my bucket man and spread my knees wide apart, revealing my wet, swollen cunt, and I start to play again for him. Fingers sliding over and around my throbbing clit, opening wide to let the air kiss over me. Looking back at him, I slide a finger inside, then out again, then two fingers. In and out and back again and I can feel something building, something so good, it's like my body has melted and I'm going to spill all over myself...and then something tips, and I do spill over; my body tightens around my fingers and I can hear myself repeating, "Oh God oh God oh God..." over and over. The ocean is roaring in my ears and I'm floating, boneless on a window ledge, in front of three men I don't know but have just shared the most intimate experience with.

My partner in these crimes is leaned sideways against the side of the bucket, a smile on his face and his softening cock in his hand. I'm suddenly aware of the situation and what I've done and I clamor back inside, looking frantically for my long forgotten towel. I can feel myself pinking with embarrassment and the adrenaline is rolling over me like a tank as I slam the window shut and yank closed the curtains. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I'm grinning like a fool with my hand over my galloping heart. I can't quite believe I did that! I don't even know why I did that.

But I can't wait to do it again.