Dirty Little Voyeur

They shut the door behind them, and immediately started tearing off one another’s clothes. Steve threw his wife’s blouse on the floor by the bed followed by her jeans, at the same time as she tugged his own trousers off, and then his shirt… her bra… his shorts… until they were naked. They needed this; they hadn’t had a chance in several days because he had been away on business, and their excitement was at boiling point. Sue and Steve kissed deeply and hungrily for a long moment, and then she broke away. She put her hands on his shoulders and lay back slowly.

‘What are you waiting for,’ she said playfully. She looked him in the eye, and then looked down at his already-hardening penis.

Steve looked at her. Her eyes. Her shoulders. Her breasts. Her stomach. Her… he roughly pushed her down into the bed, and positioned himself at her entrance. He paused and kissed her hard, biting her lip and then slowly pushed himself inside her.

It wasn’t long before Sue was moaning, and him with her. The feeling of her skin against his, her lips, the sight of her breasts and the look on her face, the warmth of her pussy squeezing him, it was all so amazing. She sounded like she was enjoying herself too, which made the whole thing feel even more amazing.

With each thrust into his wife, Steve felt the inevitable edging ever-closer, but he didn’t slow down at all. He could feel her pussy tightening slightly every few moments, which meant she was about to orgasm as well. All he had to do was hold it in for just a few more seconds.

As anticipated, Sue let a high pitched moan escape, and Steve felt her constrict and contract around him as she held on tight to him. He kissed her, allowing himself to creep past the point of no return as well.

It happened. ‘Fuck,’ he said, looking down at his wife, utterly helpless as he continued thrusting and coming into her. She looked back up at him, begging him with her eyes to empty every drop into her, push it as deep as he could. She closed her eyes and smiled, and after a few more seconds, he was finished.

There was a faint shuffling sound, and they both looked round. The door was ajar. They looked at each other curiously, but shortly they fell asleep: their curiosity wasn’t a match for their tiredness.

The following day was Saturday, and Sue went out not long after nine in the morning, to her part-time at a hairdresser’s, leaving Steve and Marie alone until four in the afternoon, though when Sue left for work, Marie, their daughter, hadn’t yet got out of bed.

So, after Sue had left, Steve sat around for a while watching TV. There wasn’t anything on, but it was nice to be home.

When eleven o’clock came, Marie appeared in the living room, still in her light blue pyjamas. Weekends were lazy for her, just as much as they were for him. She shuffled across to the kitchen in her bare feet, looking down at the floor, and without saying anything. Moments later, she reappeared, carrying a glass of Coke, and sat down on the couch next to Steve, cross-legged.

‘Morning,’ she mumbled. She sounded a little shaky, as though she was either catching her breath or else very cold.

‘Morning Marie,’ Steve replied. ‘Sleep well?’ He looked at her, but she was paying her whole attention to the glass of Coke she was sipping.

After a moment, she nodded quickly. ‘You?’

‘Yeah.’ He carried on looking at her for a few seconds, curious why she was being so quiet. Usually she was fairly talkative, telling him about what she was going to be doing later on, where she was going. That was something he was grateful for; she never did things in secret, never stayed out and made him and her mother worry.