The Choice Read Free

and I’d only be watching. Maybe it wasn’t even that dreadful …
    I picked up my keys so that I’d be able to pretend I’d been on my way out if she did catch me, telling myself I’d just have another quick peek. Very carefully, I opened my door. Hers was at an angle to mine, the keyhole temptingly close. I could duck down with half my body still in my own room, allowing me to retreat in an instant. Still I hesitated, listening, but all I could hear was her music, which now seemed compellingly sexual, drawing me to watch.
    My resistance gave way and I put my eye to the keyhole. She was as before; her slim, languid body stretched out on the bed, her mouth a little open and her eyes closed, an image of sensual bliss that had my tummy fluttering. Her hand was still down her knickers as well, but her fingers were now moving to a fast, excited rhythm, making little bumps in the black silk as she circled her clitoris.
    She’d dropped her book, which lay open on the bed beside her face, but as I watched her eyes came open again, to scan the page in front of her. A shiver ran through her and she suddenly shifted position, onto her back, lifting and opening her legs. One hand went to cup a high, pointed breast, stroking the stiff red nipple at the top. I’d been in the same position myself often enough, giving me a flush of embarrassment at the thought of how I must have looked.
    That didn’t stop me. She was going to come, and I was going to watch, however bad it made me feel. I wanted to touch myself too, but that was a step too far. She was a woman, after all, and, however beautiful, however much I might appreciate her body aesthetically, I was not going to play with myself while I watched her. That was out of the question.
    Again she moved, as suddenly as before, flipping herself over on the bed into a kneeling position, her long, slender thighs braced apart, her back curved into an elegant swan’s neck to push her neatly rounded bottom high, her cheeks bulging in the black silk of her knickers. Now I could imagine what she was thinking, of a man behind her, about to push himself deep inside as she offered her sex in that most wanton of poses.
    I’d been in the same position myself often enough, for Ewan and for others, completely open and uninhibited. It felt deeply erotic, and deeply feminine, rude too, with everything showing for my lover’s enjoyment, and also submissive. She felt the same, I was sure, because she had reached back and very slowly slid her knickers down over her bottom, just as if she was exposing herself to a man for penetration.
    She’d certainly exposed herself to me, and I couldn’t help but think of how I’d look in the same pose, my knickers pulled down over my bottom to show off every intimate detail between my cheeks and between my thighs, my sex ready to be entered, just as hers was, moist and open, ready to have my lover’s beautiful cock slid in to the very hilt. With that thought my will snapped and I gave in to my vivid sexual imagination, always my weakness.
    My hand went between my legs, to find the soft shape of my sex beneath my jeans, my fingers pressing hard to rub at myself, every bit as rude and wanton as she was. I wished I was in the same position, my thoughts running away with me as my excitement rose, imagining us side by side, kneeling on the bed, bottoms up and knickers down with two forceful young men behind us, our boyfriends, erect cocks in their hands, gloating over our exposure as they got ready to enter us.
    She was coming, her body shivering with excitement, her fingers busy with her sex, a sight at once so rude and so compelling that it tipped me over the edge. I bit my lip in a frantic effort to stop myself crying out as it hit me, my mind still burning with the fantasy I’d created, now stronger and ruder still. We were still together, poised to be entered from behind, but the young men weren’t our boyfriends, just two arrogant bastards from the college,