The Watcher

I still remember the first day that I saw him. Or rather, that he saw me. I was fighting with my boyfriend, rather loudly. It was a silly fight; we were in my bedroom, fighting across the sea of blue sheets that was my bed. I was standing with my arms on my hips in nothing but my blue lace thong. The thong that I'd worn hoping to tempt him into something more than gentle necking. It hadn't worked.

We were fighting because I didn't always want to 'make love', he acted as if I were a china doll and I would shatter at any moment. I'm certain now that is was due to my size. I'm very small. I'm barely five feet tall, and my skin is milky in color, but it contrasts nicely with my hair that is the color of moonbeam silk. I've never had any confidence issues. My eyes were narrowed and I knew I was very close to yelling when he stormed over and grabbed my arms. I wasn't alright with that, although to admit, it was the most passion I'd seen from him.

I can't even recall what was said, only that I pushed him off and stormed out into my living room. The picture window on the rear wall of my second story apartment was my sanctuary, I would look out of it if I were emotionally distraught sometimes and just watch the people on the street below, considering I wasn't really that high. Just high enough that no one noticed me. I folded my arms over my breasts and cocked a hip against the frame of the window. I was no longer in the mood for a fight.

My boyfriend realized his words were falling on deaf ears because I was listening to the noises of the city below from the open side panels of the window. I was watching someone wend their way down the darkened street to the building across from mine. It was also an apartment building. The man stopped and slowly turned to face me, our gazes locked. Somewhere in the distance I could tell that my boyfriend was behind me going insane because I wasn't listening. But I was fully ensconced in this situation at hand. The man was much taller than me, from what I could tell. He was wearing a pair of beige slacks with a black button down and very nice black shoes that shone in the lamplight. He was everything that I never find attractive. If it weren't for the way he held himself, and his piercing gaze, I may never have noticed him.

I could only tell that his hair was dark and he had a face that would make the angels jealous. It dimly occurred to me that I was mostly naked and the lights in my apartment were on. The window dropped to knee level, I realized I was at a mild disadvantage. My chest was covered with only my arms, and still he watched me, even as I dropped my gaze to listen to my boyfriend's last words of "fuck you bitch", as he slammed the door on his way out. I let out a long sigh and turned my head back to my window, my watcher was making his way to the door of his building and I watched curiously, to see if maybe his apartment was on this side.

After about two minutes a light came on one floor above mine. He appeared in his window, and I was surprised at the detail with which I could see him. I knew that he could see pretty much my whole apartment from up there, and if I had a quality of detail, then so did he. He let his gaze linger on mine for a while longer, until I gave him a shy smile, then turned and walked away. Slowly. I didn't close my blinds.

The next day, I made myself coffee and got dressed to run, I did my morning stretches in front of the news as usual and turned to the window to see how the world was this morning. I looked down at the street, but what had caught my eye was my watcher standing in his window. I pretended not to see him. He may or may not have believed it. He was sipping his coffee, or maybe it was tea, out of a mug, wearing as far as I could see, only pants. I managed to pry myself from the window and finally go running.

That became our ritual, my watcher and I. Every day, I would pretend that I didn't see him as he watched me. I would pretend I didn't know he was watching me stretch. I would pretend I didn't know he was watching my Yoga routine. When I went out on my once a week dinner night, I would pretend not to notice him sitting at the other end of the bar. I would pretend that I didn't feel the weight of his gaze like the touch of a hand. And if the bartender came to me, and told me that my drink had been paid for, I would look around with wide blue eyes, and pretend I didn't think it was him. When I walked across my living room in my underwear, I would pretend I didn't feel him watching me. And when I went to bed, I would pretend I didn't miss the weight of his gaze.

I lay in bed sometimes, wondering what was wrong with me, that I would enjoy this voyeuristic relationship. I wondered sometimes if I shouldn't just summon him through my window with the crook of my finger. I wondered if he would come. I wondered at the heat that I felt from his gaze alone that I had never felt from anyone I'd ever actually been with, and thought maybe there was something wrong with me. I would fall asleep and dream about my watcher in ways I had not yet dreamt about anyone.

The day we first touched, was on my usual dinner night where I had dinner at the bar and a glass of wine. No one was foolish enough to hit on me; I'd been coming there far too long to be a lonely bar maid. Sometimes my watcher would come with me, and seat himself far enough away that I couldn't look at him without being obvious. But I would know that he was watching me. I would sip on my wine and have small talk with the bartender about his family and his life. But this night was different. I would always dress provocatively on these nights. I wanted to compliment my watcher, that night I was wearing a very small black dress and red heels. It was summer, so I could get away with it. I was still only five foot three with my heels on.

I was in the middle of sipping my wine, and enjoying the taste, when out of nowhere the fire alarm started going off. I was so surprised that I nearly spilled my wine, but I managed to sit the glass carefully on the counter. Everyone immediately started streamlining for the door, I was lost amidst the mass of people, and started getting carried this way and that. I am too small to cut a path through the crowd. I felt someone's hands come down on my upper arms; they were warm, and very big. His hands circled my arms like cuffs and steered me safely through the panicked throng of people, I resisted the urge to stop and look up at him, to see him so near for the first time. I wanted to hear his voice and see if it matched the one I'd imagined.

By the time we were outside and well away from the crowd, I was flushed. We stopped next to a brick building at the end of the block, away from the noise and hustle, he was still behind me, steering me at the small of my back. I stopped and turned around, and came face to face with my watcher for the first time. He was still alarmingly attractive. His eyes were like whiskey and his hair was that color between black and brown. It was short, shorter than I'd normally find attractive, but it was thick, and in the breeze it shifted a little. My eyes travelled to his mouth, which was shaped so sinfully I had trouble bringing my gaze back to his eyes. He waited until I met his gaze to drop his and start at my feet and bring his eyes back to mine. I knew that I was breathing a little fast, and my cheeks were flushed. I said the first thing that came to mind. "Thank you."

He gave me a little half smile, "You're welcome." His voice was deep and smooth; it made me think of honey.

I took a step closer, and he did not retreat, just continued to look down into my face. I narrowed my eyes, "and thank you for my wine as well." I said, my voice lower than normal, I think we both knew why.

He stepped closer to me, I didn't retreat either. A strong breath would've made us touch, but neither of us was breathing. "You're welcome for that too." He whispered into my ear.

I was afraid that I would melt into the sidewalk if he touched me; I was practically humming with want. I was afraid that if he didn't touch me I'd go insane. I did the smart thing and took a step backwards. Right into the rough brick behind me.

He was fast, my watcher, and had me boxed in with his body before I could blink. I didn't know what to do; I had always been the aggressor in every situation. I didn't know how to handle it. My breath was coming in small little gasps as he lowered his mouth to mine. He didn't touch my lips, we remained at touching-but-not for moments. Until I couldn't take it, I pressed my lips into his and tasted the alcohol he'd been drinking. I wrapped my arms around his neck and had to go on tip-toe to achieve it. His hands came down from the wall, one going to take up half my back, and the other behind my head. I opened my mouth to his and his tongue invaded and parried mine. I kissed him like I'd never kissed before, and he took relentlessly. He pressed me into the wall behind me, the roughness of the brick barely registering before his left hand came to rest on my ass.

I arched into him and he pressed me closer, hands on my hips. I felt like I was going to die if I didn't have him. I was on fire, my mind was not working. I broke the kiss with a gasp and buried my face in his neck, I could feel the rise and fall in his chest, and it matched mine.

I did the rashest thing that I had ever done in my life and asked him home with me. I even added a little please when I pressed my hips up into his. We were two blocks away from my building and it felt so far away. I was silently praying he'd say yes. I wasn't sure what would happen to me if he didn't.

He pressed his forehead into mine and smiled softly before whispering his agreement into my mouth. We started drowning in each other's heat and it was several moments before we managed to move. He put his hand at the small of my back and escorted me politely to the door, I was concentrating on walking.

When we got to my building I was proud that my hands did not fumble with my keys. And we both waited patiently for the elevator holding hands. The elevator dinged lightly and we stepped into the softly carpeted cab. I pressed two. His hands came down on my ass again and my mouth searched for his automatically, I licked his lower lip and something akin to a growl emitted from him. It made me melt; I grabbed his belt and yanked him to me.

The elevator doors slid open to my floor and once again we were the epitome of poise as he followed me to my apartment. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, and locked eyes with him as he shut my door. I dropped my keys on the floor just short of my table. He stared at me.

I had never felt so safe and so small at the same time. He was intimidating, but I didn't feel intimidated, if anything it made my lust grow stronger.

I walked slowly backwards into my living room. The same room he'd been watching me in for months. He followed like a predator, slowly so I didn't scare and run away. I kicked off one heel.

And he kept approaching.

I kicked off another and he was on me, his hands danced down my back and he grabbed fistfuls of my dress as if to say he'd rip it off if I didn't manage to get it off soon. My hands grabbed at his belt and while I was kissing him, and teasing him with my tongue I undid it and slid it out of his pants. I threw it to the floor before he backed me into my bedroom. His hand met my left breast as he pressed me down into the softness of my bed. I didn't want the softness of my bed; I wanted the fire that was him.

I arched like a bow into his hand as it explored my breast, and wrapped my legs around his hips. The only downside to this position was that we were both fully clothed. I think I gave a little growl of frustration when I tugged at his pants but his mouth descended upon my neck and I was distracted. My hand travelled from the flat plane of his abdomen down into his pants, he wasn't wearing underwear and the idea pleased me. I found him hard, and cupped him in my hand. I felt a small frisson of fear due to his size, but only because I was built small all around. I rolled his testicles in my hand and gasped as he nipped my shoulder where it met my neck, he had my other hand pinned in his. He rose up abruptly to his knees and I took advantage of the moment to unbutton his pants, he slid them off, along with his shoes. I was on my knees in an instant, taking my hands and tearing his shirt open and hearing his buttons pop and fly all over my bedroom.

My mouth immediately went to his chest. I licked and nipped all the way from his neck to his nipples where I nipped until they were hard and then smiled wickedly back up at him.

He was watching me with a darkness in his gaze that I had never seen before and I felt my belly tighten low in anticipation. My mouth lifted and I stripped off my dress, I was wearing the same thong he'd first seen me in, and I saw the flicker of recognition in his gaze before he fisted his hands in the delicate lace and rent it from my body. I whimpered a little. He threw the lace away and when he came back to face me I was low on my hands and knees taking him into my mouth. It was one of my favorite things to do and I was going to enjoy it while I could.

I took him in my hand and pressed him into his body, my tongue went for his sack, and I rolled them gently in my mouth before licking my way up his shaft. His groan told me I was doing something right.

I teased the head of his cock with my tongue before plunging my mouth all the way down around him. I didn't have a gag reflex and took full advantage of it. I felt him waver in his stance when my tongue darted out; I lifted myself off of him and teased the head while my hand stroked his shaft. His hands wove themselves into my long hair and lifted it away from my face so he could watch me as I worked. He eventually moaned loudly and tightened his hands in my hair, but it was a signal to stop not continue. I gave one last long lick to his cock before I looked up into his eyes again. He pulled me up by the back of my head, using his hand in my hair as a handle, I felt myself getting wetter by the minute.

His mouth locked on mine and he bent me backwards as his mouth invaded mine. I gave as good as I got, parrying my tongue with his and stroking his lower lip before I nipped at it. His other arm snaked under my ass and lifted me up, I squeaked a little out of surprise and wrapped my arms around his neck until he lowered me to my back on the bed. I wound my legs around his hips and tried my best to pull him down to me, but he wouldn't budge, he just sat back and watched me as I writhed in pleasure and anticipation. He slid his hands up my things to my hips and up my sides, his hands met in the middle and the sight of him touching me made me flush with pleasure. I lifted my hips in a silent plea, and he ignored me, instead coming down to press me into the bed with his weight and settle his mouth on my breast. I nearly flew off the bed. And when he bit my nipple I cried out and ran my nails up his back.

His hands tightened on my body and I lifted my hips again, this time not in vain. His hand slid down my side to my core, and I tensed in anticipation as his hand slid down to my lips and lightly teased my clit, I was so sensitive I gasped when he touched it and my hips twitched. I felt his masculine laughter and sank my nails into his arms, before he began to circle my clit with his fingertip and went back to my breasts. It was too much sensation at once; I fisted my hands in the sheets and cried out when he put a finger inside me. His head snapped up and he looked at me, I could barely focus on his eyes. He pressed his finger a little further inside me and I whimpered.

"You're very small." Was all he said.

I nodded, and said, "Sorry."

His wicked grin made me want to take my apology back, he plunged two fingers inside of me and I nearly screamed when my head snapped back with sensation. My hips rose to his hand like a flower to the sun and I nearly shouted, "Please!"

His hand danced once more and I arched into it again. "Please what?" He whispered into my ear.

His mouth teased my neck and my hands came up to his back. "Please," I panted, "Fuck me."

I think at that moment his control snapped a little as he withdrew his hand and settled between my legs. My hips were rising to his and trying to draw him into me as I panted and gave a little moan. He locked his eyes with mine as he aligned the head of his cock with my opening, he pushed forward ever so slightly, and I gave enough that his head slid inside. His breath left in a rush and I planted my feet on the bed and lifted my hips. He knew exactly what I was doing and grabbed my hips in his hands and pressed me into the bed, "you'll get it when I say you get it." He rocked his hips a little to emphasize his point.

I cried out and raked my nails down his chest. He pressed forward a little more, but he wasn't even halfway in.

I grabbed his hips and said, "Please" once more, he seemed satisfied with that because in one smooth motion he pressed forward as far as he could go. I cried out, I'm tight and he isn't small, the friction was intense and I liked it. But this is where they always stop and worry about, so I waited for the inevitable question.

It never came; he pulled out all the way, and plunged right back in. I locked my legs around his hips and felt like I was going to die of pleasure. His hands grabbed my ankles and slid my legs over his shoulders, he pulled back and pressed into me again, I screamed. He almost wavered at that, but I quickly shouted, "Don't stop!" and he didn't.

He thrust into me all the way, his hand touched my clit. He continued to thrust in and out, enough that the impact jarred me and made me get closer and closer to the edge, I wasn't going to hang on much longer and I was straining toward that edge. I'd never had an orgasm before. He seemed to know it, because his hand toyed with my clit until I tried to push him away. He gathered my hands in one of his and held them captive, so that I couldn't move.

I felt like I was slipping off a cliff and my cries were coming faster and faster until I hit the edge and I felt myself clamp down on his cock and the muscle contractions that felt like I was milking him as I shook with pleasure. My hands snaked free and I grabbed his hips and pulled him closer to me as I came, it felt like explosion after explosion of pleasure. When I was finally coherent again he was still straining above me, trying not to move so that I could make the most out of my moment.

I pushed myself up on one arm and licked his chest, his hips twitched. He pulled out of me and I was immediately bereft, until he wrapped his hands around my waist and flipped me over.

I rose to my hands and knees and felt him slam himself into me, I almost fell forward but his hands were wrapped around my hips, and I braced my hands on the headboard. He pulled out and slammed right back into me, I couldn't stifle the gasp that he elicited. It felt like he was getting deeper, and I loved it.

I pressed back into him every time he'd come forward, and he pounded into me. His hand rose and fisted itself in my hair and pulled me up until my back was bowed and the sensation of him fucking me was almost too hard to handle. Until I came again, this time, when I came he sped up, and I pressed backwards crying out my pleasure as he came into me and I milked his cock with my orgasm.

He fell beside me, and brought me into his body, so that we were spooning. His breath on my neck, and his hand stroking my side. I felt him press a kiss to my neck.

"We didn't use protection." I said, almost as an afterthought.

"You're on birth control." He replied. I almost asked how he knew except he'd watched me take it every morning. A thought struck me; I didn't even know his name. And I was pretty sure he didn't know mine. I rolled over and threw my leg over his hip; he watched my face cautiously as I looked at him.