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Here's Looking At You
copyright © 1990 William D. Brame
This story appeared in Penthouse Forum (January 1991).

When he finished eating, Thomas scraped the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher, already unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. He'd developed a pattern of living day-by-day. He was usually home by seven in the evening, had eaten by nine, and was in bed by ten. In this way, he lived neatly and orderly and without undue effort.

Another part of his schedule occurred after settling into bed. Thomas was healthy, in good physical condition, and as interested in sex as any other young man. But he didn't have time to actively pursue women, or so he told himself. And so he blunted the keen edge of his desire with self-gratification.

His bedside table was an elaborately carved Victorian piece that had a concealed, deep drawer with a hidden catch. Thomas liked the idea of having a cache to keep his private things private. Theft didn't worry him half as much as embarrassment. Now he lay on the bed, rolling over to feel behind the table for the catch: the side of the table shuddered, springing open. He looked inside, thumbing through the glossy magazines within.

He found one he liked well enough--mostly for the girl who appeared in its largest pictorial--and settled back. He bunched the pillow under his head and held the magazine in his right hand. His left, almost of its own will, brushed his genitals and gently grasped his member. He stared at the face of the blonde in the spread, letting his eye wander down to the swell of her breasts, the taut pink nipple capping each one, the curve of her belly leading down...

His hand began stroking harder, his penis throbbing beneath his fingers. Impatiently, he thumbed the page and moved to another spread, where a girl sat in a leather chair, one leg folded under the other, her moist vulva framed by thigh and calf. She wore an expression of coy amusement, and nothing else.

The phone chirped just as a fantasy took root in his mind. "Ah, shit!" he said. He tried ignoring it and continued to tug at his erection. The phone rang again and he flung the magazine aside. Clinging stubbornly to his penis, he turned and snatched the phone up from the table. "Hello?"

For a moment there was only the sound of breathing. "Hello," a warm, female contralto said at last. "I've been watching you, you naughty boy."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Thomas was dumbfounded.

"Really. Look at you. You're still holding it."

Stricken with realization, Thomas rolled onto his stomach.

"You don't have to hide it," the anonymous voice cooed. "I've seen it often enough. Don't you ever draw your curtains?"

Thomas glared wildly at his bedroom window. The curtain rippled slightly in the summer breeze. "Who is this?" he demanded hoarsely.

Laughter erupted. "I'm your secret admirer. You have a nice ass, wiggling around like that."

Thomas' face grew hot. He started to set down the receiver when the woman asked, "Going to close the curtain now? Going to lock the barn door now that the cow's out?"

"Listen," he said, "you can't just--"

"But I can. I did. I do. There's nothing you can do about it. I've watched you over and over again, Tommy. You don't mind if I call you Tommy, do you? You can draw your curtains now. It won't make a bit of difference. I've seen you more times than you can imagine. Stroking that nice, fat cock. Every night, too. What a trouper!"

Thomas was stunned into silence. He wished the earth would swallow him up. "How do you know my name?" he finally said.

"It's on your mailbox in your lobby. You're listed in the phone book, Tommy. There's no mystery about it."

"What do you want from me?" What could it be? he thought. Money? Had she taken pictures? Was there a telephoto lens trained on him even now?

When she spoke at last, her voice was a purr. "Well, Tommy, you've put on a pretty good show so far. You've got raw talent, but you could do so much better with a little direction."

"Look, I'm hanging up now."

"No, you won't do that. Not with your poor, stiff cock throbbing between your legs. You don't want to go back to a magazine while I'm here to talk to you. You're blushing!"

Thomas trembled with humiliation. Laughter crackled through the receiver. "Why are you squirming like that? Oh, that's cute. You're rubbing yourself on the bed." It was true.

"Roll over!" her voice suddenly commanded. Thomas complied without thought, his erect penis quivering and jutting straight up into the air. "That's better," her voice breathed. "We'll make a showman of you yet. Don't touch it!" Thomas stopped his hand halfway to his cock. "Be a good boy. Do just as I tell you.

"I want to see your balls jump around," she said. "I like seeing your asshole, too. Get on your hands and knees for me. Set the phone down and spread your cheeks."

Blushing even more fiercely, he did so. After a moment he picked up the phone. "Please...is that okay?"

"That was very good, Tommy. Now, get on your back again. Feet wide apart, yes. Take your other hand and pinch your nipple. Yeah, just like the girls in the magazines. You're my centerfold, aren't you, Tommy? Rub your thighs. Tickle them right up to your balls. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Oh, yes! I can't stand it.."

"You'd better!" Her voice turned icy. "You do what I say or you can just forget it. You can go back to your magazines and jerk off."

"I'll do what you say!"

"Of course you will." She was purring again. "I know you'll do exactly what I say. You'll tickle your balls for me, won't you? Yes, just like that. Good boy. How does that feel?"

"I'm so excited..."

"I know you are," she said, laughing. "I can see that. I bet if I told you to pump that thing, you'd come all over yourself."

"Please..."

"Okay now, grab your cock. Let's see you come. Since this is your first time I'll give you a minute to come. Starting now."

Thomas didn't need to hear anything more. He curled his hand around the shaft and began pumping. He thought of himself lying on his bed with a woman watching him, telling him what to do, laughing. His cheeks burned and his hand flew.

"Thirty seconds," she whispered.

Thomas cried out as pleasure jolted up from his groin, spread into his stomach, down his thighs, all over him. Semen splattered onto his belly, hand and arm.

"Very good! For your first time."

"Won't you tell me who you are?" Thomas asked. "Can't we--"

"Not now." Her voice was curt. "You want to speak to me again, don't you?"

"You know I do."

"Then do as you're told. I want you to get a speakerphone so you'll have both hands free. And I want you to be ready for my call every night at ten o'clock."

"Will you call tomorrow night?"

"Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. But you'd better be ready. Make sure you leave a light on. Be naked an have your ass on that bed, boy. If I catch you playing with yourself without me, I won't like it. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand." Thomas swallowed hard.

"Now go clean yourself off. I'll be seeing you." The phone clicked.

Thomas slept soundly and woke the next morning wondering if it had been a dream. The stains on his bedspread testified that it had not.

He had trouble concentrating at work. At five-thirty he left the office and went to an electronics store to buy the speakerphone, making sure he got one with the best possible sound quality. He took it home and installed it. By ten o'clock he was naked and waiting, as instructed.

At ten-twenty the speakerphone rang. He scrambled to push the button. "Hello?" he said uncertainly.

"Hello, Tommy," the voice said. "I'm pleased with you. I've been watching you for half an hour and you have not touched yourself once. Even though you're already hard."

Her voice came through the speaker clearly, every nuance of expression intact. This night she made him stroke himself until he trembled on the verge of release. Then she'd stop him, over and over again, until he wanted to cry out in frustration.

"Maybe I should just say goodnight now," she said at last.

"You can't!" he blurted.

"Oh, no? You better believe I can." The harsh buzz of the dial tone replaced her voice. He stared at the phone, then angrily jumped to his feet and went to the window. He pressed his face to the glass and looked out at the blank wall of windows across the courtyard. No lights were on. No movement was visible anywhere. The phone rang again.

He rushed back and activated the speaker. "You want to come?" she said without preamble. "Then go back to the window. Open it. Then stand right in front and rub yourself."

Not believing his own actions, Thomas stood wide-legged at the open window, masturbating until her cool instructions had his juices squirting through the opening, splashing down on the cobbles many stories below.

She giggled. "That was precious. Good night."

She didn't call again for two nights, even though Thomas waited, obediently nude, at the stroke of ten. On the third night his waiting ended.

"Tommy," her amused voice inquired, "have you missed me?"

"Yes, I've missed you very much."

"You didn't jerk off at all, did you?"

"No."

"Well, you must be real, uh, tense by now. But tell me this: what have you done with your cock besides play with it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever had a woman, Tommy?"

"Sure I have! I'm not a virgin." Silence greeted his statement. "I'm not," he insisted.

"Well, I'm from Missouri, Tommy. You know what that means? It means you have to show me." She laughed.

Thomas stared inanely at the speakerphone. "I don't follow you," he said. "What do you mean, show you?"

"I mean, when the bell rings in a little while, answer the door. Just as you are."

"I...I..." Before he could frame an answer, she hung up. Within a few minutes--although to Thomas it seemed like hours-- the doorbell buzzed insistently. Fearful yet eager, he went to the door, opening it a crack. Brown eyes peered back at him.

"Boo!"

Thomas jumped.

"Mind if I come in?" the olive-skinned brunette asked.

Thomas waved her in with a grand gesture born of embarrassed bravado. "Please do."

"My name is Marissa." She stepped in and closed the door behind her, surveying him sardonically. "You're Tommy, of course. You look even...bigger, up close." The focus of her gaze left little doubt to her reference. Thomas gulped and flushed under her inspection, feeling her eyes travel slowly over every part of him. "Show me your bed," she said at last.

He clumsily led her to his bedroom, stealing glances over his shoulder. Her face was heart-shaped and her slim frame sported small breasts which jiggled beneath her white blouse. She wore no bra; her hard nipples showed clearly through the fabric. She had on a simple black skirt, without stockings, and low heels. She gazed at Thomas with a slight smile, her eyes drinking in his buttocks and genitals when he turned to glance at her.

When he reached the bedroom Thomas turned to her once more. "Is it really you?" he blurted.

"No one but, Tommy," she answered, her familiar voice producing a now-familiar effect. She grinned when his penis twitched. "I thought it was time we should meet." She sat on the bed and removed her heels. "Come her and undress me," she said. He hastened to comply, eager to see her fully. At last.

"I can't believe this is happening," he murmured, lifting her blouse.

She leaned forward, her firm breasts rubbing his chest maddeningly. "You don't have to believe it," she said. "Just accept it." Her fingers suddenly gripped his penis. "I've wanted this since I first laid eyes on it. And what i want, I get."

She stood, still holding him. "Don't be shy, Tommy. Look at me. You like what you see?"

"Very much. You're beautiful."

"Do you like these?" Her free hand gently stroked her breasts.

His pulsing cock gave a clear answer. Nevertheless, he nodded enthusiastically, any hope of speaking muted by the lump in his throat.

"Prove it, then. Kiss them."

He cupped one breast and pointed her nipple at him. He bent to it, his lips gently caressing the taut flesh. Her back arched and she sighed. She fluttered her other hand against his genitals, rapidly stroking the shaft and teasing his scrotum. He groaned.

"That's good," she said breathlessly. "Now take my skirt off. Go ahead, don't waste any time. Just slip it right off." As he tugged the fabric over her hips, he found himself staring directly into the mass of brown curls surrounding her sex. A drop of moisture glistened on the lips.

She sat on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs invitingly. "Ever see one of these? Outside of a magazine, I mean." She watched his face redden and chuckled. "Get a good look! I want you to learn it by sight, and touch, and taste. Kiss it."

He hobbled forward on his knees and kissed her mound hungrily. She patted his hair, making small sounds of pleasure, and encouraged him to nuzzle and lick her.

Thomas couldn't contain himself. He reached between his legs and began kneading his stiff flesh, moaning into Marissa's juicy pubes.

"Stop!" she cried, instantly noticing the change. She leaned back and pushed him away with one petite foot.

He gazed up at her pleadingly. Marissa kept her foot on his chest and held him back. "You're too eager. You can't think of anything but your cock. That's it, isn't it?" He could only nod. "You need to think of *me* if you want to be a good lover. You do, don't you?" He nodded again.

"Lay at my feet and whack off again. Maybe then you'll be able to concentrate." She had him stretch out on the floor at the foot of the bed, then rested her feet gently on his chest as he rubbed himself frantically. She giggled and squeezed one of his nipples between her toes. The combined sensations sent him into the strongest orgasm he'd ever had.

"Now we won't have to rush," Marissa whispered, helping him up. "We'll take our time and do it right." Under her instruction, he once more buried his face between her legs, soon eliciting cries of delight. She made him rub her body. He trailed his tongue over every inch of her tan flesh. His cock soon rose to the occasion, and she eyed it speculatively. "Think you're ready for a woman now?"

"I hope so," he whispered.

"We'll see." She touched him, then bent and took the head of his cock into her mouth. He shuddered at the heat of her lips and her wet, swirling tongue. Under her skilled ministrations, his penis sprang back to fullness. Marissa gave his glans a final tongue flick and released him. "Just right," she breathed.

She pushed him down onto his back, straddled him, and guided his cock into her warmth and wetness. They groaned as her moist pussy slowly enveloped his straining cock.

She rode him, bracing herself on his chest. He grasped her swaying breasts, gently squeezing them and fingering her hard nipples, which increased their excitement. She began to buck, throwing her head back. "Oh, I'm going to come," she gasped. "Come with me..."

He needed little encouragement; he had been holding back already. When her vagina rippled and sucked at his engorged flesh, he lost all control. His loud cries of pleasure mingled with hers. She collapsed onto him and held him tightly.

She rolled off to put her head on his chest, and toyed lightly with his nipples. "That was a good start," she mused. "I think you'll really benefit from my instruction."

Thomas started to speak, not knowing what to say, but needing to express his feelings. As he opened his mouth, the phone rang. "Who could that be?" he muttered, sliding from Marissa's embrace to punch the button. "Hello?"

Static hissed faintly, mingled with a long, low sigh. A voice, a syrupy, feminine, southern drawl, spoke. "I've been watching you two..."

Did you enjoy reading these? Would you like to republish these works? Please direct comments and permissions requests to Will Brame.

 

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