Oh, To Be Watched and Filmed Ch. 04

A little longer than my usual offerings, but the dialogue breaks up the solid text. Hope you like it - it's been a while since I posted!

*****

The now-familiar inner debate gripped her again, and argued and counter-argued each case to herself until, with a sigh of resignation, and a cold thrill of shame and taboo, her mind was made up.

Yes, the receptionist informed her, the same room was available for one night only on Tuesday or Wednesday. Sarah toyed with the idea of booking the day off work, but decided against it. Partly she feared that with more time on her hands she would lose her nerve. Part of it, she knew deep down, was the secrecy and subterfuge, the acting normal at work when at the end of her day she would be indulging -- again -- in her secret fantasy.

The ultimate thrill -- and stab of shame -- was being wished a nice evening as she left the office.

Repeatedly over the past three weeks she had thought back to what she had done. In the cold light of day she could hardly believe it. But, as the saying goes, the camera never lies. This one certainly hadn't.

She found herself drawn back again to the videotape, and to pausing it as The Watcher appeared. Each viewing enabled her to anticipate the precise moment, announced by the sound of her own voice: "Is... can you see anyone watching from the apartments?" The excited tone in her words thrilled her each time she watched, and her wantonness shocked and delighted her.

Each time she pleasured herself, bringing herself off as The Watcher, only half-discernible, appeared on the screen, his arm jerking to the sight that she wilfully and shamelessly presented to him.

Her curiosity grew along with her excitement and guilt.

Tom had only been able to catch a few moments. Part of her wished the footage were longer. She longed to see the man better who matched her lewdness. She had so little to go off.

Average height. Slightly overweight and balding. Glasses. His face wasn't clear due to the poor lighting. Not like the footage of herself. No -- she gently remonstrated with herself -- no, the lighting in the hotel room had been more than adequate to illuminate her masturbation to The Watcher.

With a pang of guilt and arousal, she wondered if others had also seen her, unbeknown to her and to Tom as he recorded the sordid act. Her mind raced giddily as she invented personalities, and appearances, and whether they were single or spying secretly at her without the knowledge of a parent, a girlfriend, a wife...

And although the words hadn't been captured on the tape, she remembered her question to Tom as he had filmed, and his reply:

"Tell me, Tom. Was he... was he... WANKING?"

"Yes, Sarah. He was wanking. I'm sure of it."

__________

She checked in, trying to suppress the excitement in her voice, then made her way in the lift and to her room. Neither the receptionist nor the other two guests whom, she encountered paid her much attention. Yet again her cheeks flushed as she contrasted her apparently innocent, respectable appearance with the sordid nature of her stay.

Her pulse quickened as she entered the room of her previous visit, and as she swept her eyes around it. She gave a low, involuntary gasp at the curtained window. She locked the door and, conscious that her breathing was a little more laboured, she stepped to the window and pulled the curtains open.

Despite her intention simply to look across at the whole block of apartments, her eye was instantly drawn to The Watcher's window. It was in darkness, and the curtains were closed, with no sign of life. For a few moments she willed him to appear, but it was no use, of course.

Each stage of her preparations seemed an irretrievable step further down the road she had already taken. On the windowsill she placed the new mobile phone that she had bought, the cheapest pay-as-you-go one that she could find, and to which she had fitted a SIM card from a corner newsagent shop as an added safeguard to her anonymity.

She moved one of the bedside lamps so that it would illuminate her well enough when she again took up her shameless stand, placing it so that it would keep her face in shadow. Partly it was to preserve her anonymity, but she knew that it would also enhance the element of tease. She switched off the main light, leaving only the smaller lamp on.

Last of all she took from her bag the large, folded sheet of paper. A twinge of arousal and shame ran through her as she looked at it. Although she had done so a dozen or more times already, she re-checked that she had written on it correctly -- the number of her new mobile phone! She glanced at the large figures from the thick-tipped marker pen, re-folded it and placed it on the windowsill. She switched on the mobile phone and placed it next to the paper.

"Where is this all going to end?" a silent voice in her head asked. "Isn't it enough to have done what you've done already, you slut -- bringing yourself off in front of a near-stranger with a video camera -- and with the curtains open, for anyone to watch?"

"No! No it bloody well isn't enough!" she said softly but aloud, as if to drown the silent accusing voice. This was to be a further step of rebellion against the parental pressures of her youth, the responsibilities and stresses of her job, and the betrayal of her former partner.

The silent inner voice pleaded with her again as she looked across to The Watcher's window. There was still time to change her mind. The room was paid for. All she had to do was to hand in her keys and say that she had had to change her plans.

"No way! No BLOO-DY way!" she hissed in response.

She moved from the window, slid off her jacket, and dropped it onto the bed. As nonchalantly as she could, she unbuttoned her blouse and allowed it to slip open. She glanced down at her B-cup breasts in her white bra. Her nipples were pressing against the satin. She wondered whether anyone else was looking at them from the apartments.

She kicked off her shoes and, although she felt anything but casual, she walked as nonchalantly as she could to the en-suite to take a pee -- and to change her underwear. Upon her return she made herself walk slowly and seemingly without purpose to the window. She stood a little to one side rather than in the centre of the window -- to give her secret admirer the best angle of view. She stood there for a few moments, her white blouse open to display her breasts in her white bra, hopefully the white fabric standing out well in the subdued light. Still there was no sign of life from The Watcher's window.

She slid her blouse off her shoulders and arms, and draped it over the chair. She pulled up the other chair and sat down in open view, pretending to read the magazine that she had brought. As she read, she traced her fingers lightly up and down her throat, inching gradually down to her cleft, and over the tops of her breasts above her bra.

Her mind drifted back a few weeks, and the memory of being watched by her mystery admirer aroused her as she lightly caressed herself. She glanced at her watch. It was still relatively early. Surely there was time yet. She told herself to be patient.

She stood up to make herself a cup of coffee from the courtesy tray. She walked to the window as she waited for the kettle to boil. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw that there was a light on in The Watcher's window. She ignored the kettle and gazed across at the window. She resisted the urge to check her watch as the moments ticked by, her will and mind bent on summoning him to the window, silently pleading with him and urging him, promising a view of her breasts and of her self-pleasuring if he would only draw back his curtains.

She took a few steps back from the window, but still open to view. She unzipped her skirt and watched it glide down her legs. She stepped out of it, but left it where it lay around her feet.

She drew her bra down and eased her left breast free, then stroked her breasts lightly in turn, caressing the one naked orb and the other through her white, satin bra. She looked down at her white satin waist slip, glimmering sensually in the soft light from the lamp. She hiked it up, revealing the black tops of her sheer stockings, ivory with a provocative black seam up the back.

.

She traced her fingertip lightly along the lacy stockingtop, enjoying the texture of the warm lace. Her fingers stroked her thigh below the stockingtop, stroking and pressing against it, proud of the toned firmness of her flesh. She closed her eyes for a moment and caressed her sensitive inner thigh, then looked up.

A thrill of delight and shame gripped her. His light was off but the curtains were now slightly open. It was all she could do not to run to the window and wave. She was certain that her stance away from the window allowed him to see her stockinged thighs.

Pretending that she hadn't noticed, she continued to caress herself. She let her slip drop back into place, but caressed her flattish belly with one hand, and her breasts with the other. Her hand briefly moved over her crotch, and she gave it a little squeeze, then swept slowly over her flanks and thighs.

She stepped to the window and partly closed the curtains. Although she was not averse to being seen by others, she wanted to concentrate on The Watcher. She looked across and twitched the edge of one curtain several times, as a signal that she was aware of him. A surge of excitement ran through her as he twitched his curtain in response.

She realised that her hands were trembling as she picked up her mobile phone, and propped up the piece of paper that bore her number. Then she stepped a few paces from the window once more.

She held the phone near to her face as an encouragement, and caressed her breasts with her other hand. She turned to one side to offer a view of her breasts in profile, and of her backside, as she touched and stroked herself.

She turned her back to the window and gyrated her hips and bum provocatively, reaching back and fondling her bum cheeks. She parted her legs slightly, causing the split in her slip to open and reveal her creamy, stockinged thighs.

There was still no response on her phone. She turned back to the window.

"Come on, Watcher! Don't be shy of Sarah! I know you like what you see -- just bloody ring and tell me you're hot and hard at the sight!" she murmured. She peeled her bra down and scooped her

A few more minutes passed. Then her phone rang. It startled her, and it took her a few flustered moments to answer.

"Hello?" she half-gasped.

"Hi."

His voice was slightly throaty, and she guessed that he was in his forties.

"My name's... you can call me Sarah" she offered. It was a response she had rehearsed, wanting to hear her name on his lips but wishing to make out it wasn't her real one.

"My name's Martin," he replied.

"I'm glad you rang, Martin. Are you alone? I mean, are you free to talk?"

"Yes."

She was a little disappointed at his reticence, and determined to try to allay it.

"I came back, Martin."

"I know."

It wasn't supposed to be like this, she thought. He was supposed to be far more forthcoming. She tried to hide her impatience.

"I mean -- I came back specially. For you."

She heard him give a low sigh. It thrilled her.

"You mean that... Sarah?"

"Yes. The first time I just wanted anyone's attention. Today I wanted yours. Did... did you enjoy my show the other week?"

"I loved it."

She wanted to hear his admission that he had made himself come to the sight of her, but knew that she must draw him slowly before she would hear it. In some ways having to work upon him added to the excitement. It made her feel strong and in control.

"Do you like what you see right now, Martin?"

"Hell, yes! I... I love your breasts -- they're in perfect proportion to the rest of you. And... I love your stockings. Very sexy..."

"I usually refer to my breasts as 'boobs' or 'tits', Martin. Do you like watching me stroke and caress them, hmmm?"

"Oh yes, Sarah. Play with your tits for me. I... I want to see them move under your hand..."

His use of her name sent another shudder along her spine. Her bra had slid back into place and both her breasts were now covered. She gently squeezed each in turn, stroked the top of each orb, and scooped underneath them, pushing them up and around.

She heard him sigh.

"Please would you... would you get them out and let me see them, Sarah?"

"You want me to get my tits out for you, Martin?"

"Yes. Get your tits out and let me see them naked. I want to see your tits and your nipples, Sarah..."

"Okay, then. But you're a bit far away to see my nipples clearly, aren't you, love?"

"Er... I, er... I'll be able to see them if you get them out..."

"Martin... have you got binoculars or something?"

There was an ominous pause, and she feared that he was going to hang up.

"Yes. Sorry, Sarah, but yes..."

She was shocked to hear his admission. It conjured up an image of a dirty old man.

"Are you still there, Sarah?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm still here."

"Sorry if I shocked you. But you asked, and I told you."

Despite her misgivings she felt aroused. After all, she could hardly take the moral high ground against his use of binoculars to spy. She was the one who had invited his peeping -- twice, in fact. It added to the seediness of what she was doing.

"It's harmless. And, rightly or wrongly, I tell myself that if a woman walks around semi-naked with open curtains when there are apartments opposite, she isn't entirely innocent. And... and I don't just use binoculars for this. I bought them for when I go the horse racing..."

She reached behind her and unclipped her bra, but held it teasingly over her orbs. She gave a low laugh.

"I don't make a habit of showing my tits to strangers through hotel windows, you know. It's just..."

"No need to explain. Like I'm not going to explain why I watch. I'm sure glad you did though."

She stepped closer to the window.

"Put your light on. Show me your face and I'll show you my tits... my B-cup, firm tits, and my hardening nipples..."

Within a few moments she saw his light go on. He waved coyly, and she waved back. She had no rehearsed script or actions up her sleeve now. She felt vulnerable, yet elated and liberated.

His face was round and he had a heavy beard. His hair was grey, receding, but fairly long. He wasn't very tall, she reckoned perhaps an inch or two taller than her five feet six inches, and he was slightly overweight, though not drastically so.

"Are you a boob man, then, Martin?"

"I'm and EVERYTHING man, Sarah! But, yes, I suppose I'm especially a boob lover."

He was starting to sound more relaxed now.

"I'll show you mine, then, Martin. Ready?"

"Oh, yes. Get those lovely tits out and show them to me, Sarah!"

Again it aroused her to hear her name and urgings from the lips of a total stranger, this Watcher to whom she had decided to expose herself. Slowly she peeled away her bra and dropped it onto the floor.

She saw him raise the binoculars, and flushed.

"Are you homing in on my nipples, Martin? Shall I play with them and make them hard for you, love?"

"Oh yes, do it!"

She heard him gasp as she teased her nipples with her painted fingernail. She alternately watched the movement of her finger and the tautening of her nipple to her touch, and his binocular-hidden face between his partially opened curtains.

"Have you got a good view, Martin? Can you see them clearly -- my nipples swelling and jutting out?"

"Oh yeah. They're gorgeous, Sarah. Can... while I'm using the binoculars, do you mind if I put the light out again. It's just if anyone else was to see me..."

Her gut reaction was that he was taking advantage, and she nearly told him so. Here she was, exposed not just to his gaze but also to that of anyone else who may be looking, and here he was, getting aroused from watching her but spineless enough to worry about anyone spotting HIM. She paused for a moment, though. She could see his point. If any other hotel guest spotted him looking across with binoculars in his hand, he could be in serious trouble.

"Okay then, Martin..."

She felt empowered to be able to dictate terms.

"Okay. But after a while you put them down and show yourself to me -- deal?"

"Deal. Thanks, Sarah."

He gave a soft laugh. She savoured the silence as he went to switch off his room light. His curtain twitched again in greeting to indicate that he had taken his stance again.

She lightly pinched her nipple, and, holding it in her finger and thumb, she rocked her orb up and down. She heard him groan. She too was getting increasingly aroused, and she felt herself becoming moist.

"I bet you wish you were doing this, love," she said. She cleared her throat; her throat was becoming dry and husky due to her excitement.

"Do you like to play with a woman's nipples? Do you like to fondle tits? I... I hope mine are big enough for you, Martin..."

"As I said before, I think they're perfect, Sarah. They're just the right size, and they look nice and firm. I... I love your nipples, too. They're quite dark. I love the way they stick out and have gone hard. I... I wish I was there to play with them and... and..."

"And what, love. Don't be shy. Tell Sarah. What do you wish? That you could suck them?"

"Yes. Yes, I love to suck tits. Slowly and gently at first, then quite hard. I love to lick a woman's nipples and... and to kind of rasp them eagerly with my tongue. Do... do you like having that done, Sarah?"

"I love it, Martin. My tits are really sensitive. My nipples too..."

She rubbed her taut nipples in turn as she spoke into the phone, pressing them down and releasing them, tugging on them and gently squeezing them.

"If my tits were bigger I'd love to suck them. I can't quite reach the nipples, though... look..."

"Oh, shit!" he gasped as she pushed her modest orb up towards her face and ran her tongue across her upper breast.

"I... I'd do that, Sarah. I'd suck them for you. Hard. I'd take most your tit-flesh into my mouth and... and suck it like a newborn while I squeezed your other one..."

"Oh yesss, I like the sound of that, love!" she hissed into the phone.

"What else would you do if you were here with me, Martin?"

"I... as I was standing before you kissing and sucking your lovely tits and licking your nipples, I'd pull you close and play with your lovely bum... I... I'd caress and squeeze it through that slip..."

Her pulse was racing.

"I'm going to close the curtains a bit more, Martin... so you can see, but only you. And I'm going to adjust the lighting so it's bright enough for you but not too eye catching for others..."

She pulled the curtains closer together and sat on the bed, checking with him whether he could still see her. Then she stood with her back to the window, and bent forward over the bed.

"How's that view, love?"

"Oh yeah, Sarah. I love the look of your slip. I love the shape of your bum under it -- so round, and so firm looking. I... I love the split in the back of your slip it. I think you've got lovely legs, and I love the seam in your pale tights..."

"They're not tights, Martin."

There was a moment's pause as he took in her words.

"N-not tights?"

"No. Focus your binoculars and look..."

Slowly she hiked up her waist slip and parted her legs, higher and higher, looking over her shoulder to the mirror to check when her stockingtops were visible.

"Oh, Sarah. Oh yes! Oh yesss!"

"Like them? Do I look slutty in them?"

"I love them. Slutty? Maybe a bit... I'd say sexy rather than slutty. I'm sure you're a real lady."

"So most people think. And I suppose I am most of the time. It's nice to play the tramp, the tart, the slut sometimes though. Call me any of those names if you like, Martin. I'd find it a turn-on."