Espied Pt. 02

Press, press, press went her finger on the remote; press, press, press went her finger on her clitoris; spurt, spurt, spurt went the man, his semen flying high and landing all over the magazine picture - long streaks of male ejaculate. Such a pleasure, such an unexpected pleasure and one she would not have imagine pleasing her a few weeks before, such a delight to see the man throwing his semen. Clearly, he made a connection with the picture. His idea, no doubt, that his stuff was falling on the bare skin of the girl in the photograph. Sal imagined it falling on her own skin.

Yet as she had pressed the shutter, as her finger had pushed at her clitoris, Sal had stepped backwards because half way through his ejaculation the man had looked up and turned and stared at the wisteria. Did he perhaps know Sal could see what he was doing, did he know she might be there watching him, had he seen the photographs of himself in her album and worked out where the camera's viewpoint had been? Sal bit her lip, the excitement of the idea unexpected - the man knowing her guilty secret and taking pleasure in the fact. She knew he had seen photographs of her naked, photographs of her masturbating, what was more, but did he know she had watched him naked, erect and, indeed, coming?

Was he deliberately looking at the wisteria and imagining her watching? Was the thought in his head at the moment of his release the idea of being watched by a possibly naked, masturbating, woman?

Still Sal stared, watched the penis begin to subside, even clicked the shutter again - twice. The man stepped back and moved out of view. To go and sunbathe in the garden or shower Sal did not know. Sal, though, remained, the remote put down and the spare hand to a breast. The man had left the magazine on the table. Sal played with her sex, a two-fingered diddling movement to her clitoris as she looked down at the streaks of wetness across the page.

The man had begun to come staring at the erotic printed image and so did Sal though her focus was rather more on the wet streaks across it than the photograph itself. Like the man, Sal's orgasm came whilst standing. She made rather gasping feminine noises there in her hidden balcony.

Flushed and breathing hard, Sal sat down on the wooden bench set against the wall of her house on the balcony. She found herself back there again in the mid-afternoon. It was now a bit hot and stuffy with the afternoon sun shining directly on and through the wisteria. Sal peered out and was a little disappointed to find no naked man. The magazine, though, was still there but the semen had dried leaving streaks of white across the page. Sal's camera was still on its tripod, so she took another picture.

The dappled light inside the balcony gave a wonderful effect, a patchwork of bright points of light on the bench, floor and her skin. Again, the photographer in her came to the fore and she turned the camera away from the wisteria. Naked woman in dappled shade proved to be a most successful study. A set of really fine nudes. She had dealt with the difficult contrast so well with the camera settings when she viewed the pictures on her computer. They were not erotica, not 'glamour' shots but much more like Mr. Soames had taken. Dare she show them at the club - they would, though, see she was the model. Sal was not sure she could bring herself to do that. No, really, she could not.