**Valentine’s Day.**
Another first date finished earlier than hoped for, while managing to be finished not as early as desired. An invitation from an “Involved” man I’d recently met, combined with my frustrations at my own plans not panning out, found me at a party full of people I did not know.Typical Valentine weekend theme;pink and red beverages offered up and accepted. Couples proving their joy and gratitude. I’d only managed to run into “Involved” once at this party of strangers. Where was he? He’d introduced me to the “Hostess” he was “Involved” with. They were warm together, their combined presence felt like the sun on wintered skin. When talking to them, my cat tendencies kicked in, an urge to bask in their energy, to explore it somehow. Pride and prudence flushed the urge quickly. Somewhere deep from within me, I’d hoped they had caught a glimmer of my curiosity, but I found that thought shameful on some level as well.
I chatted with strangers. They ask me questions, I answer. I ask questions back, they answer. This is the way things go at functions such as this. As I sit at my perch in the kitchen, with my pink and red drinks comfortably close, I see (or do I feel?) them, “Involved & Hostess”. They appear on the other side of the kitchen. Boisterous towards each other… they must be either “love drunk”, or just drunk. They are oblivious to their surroundings, toying with each other. Intimate touches they think aren’t noticeable. Devilish and daring smiles. They steal turns burrowing in the nape of each other’s necks. I take them in, unabashedly. They are independently attractive, but together I have to admit they become something greater. My mind wanders to thoughts of what they might be like in private that fosters that kind of energy in public. A shiver rolls up from within my core and permeates to my fingers and toes. I tell myself to keep calm. I’m surely wine-flush at this point, so no one can tell what my body is feeling, or how it is reacting to my equally hidden thoughts.
As I float back from being lost within myself, I see “Involved & Hostess” intertwined in each other’s arms, looking directly at me. Their eyes incinerate my clothing and defenses. I feel laid bare, on display in their gaze. How could they have known my thoughts? Their smiles are playful, with a dash of deviance and feel aimed directly at me as well. I feel so vulnerable in this moment, and I suddenly become aware of a warm slickness between my thighs.
“Involved and Hostess” shift their stares from me, unleashing their smiles upon each other. They lock eyes with me one last time, before they nod towards a hallway unknown to me and are gone in an instant. As I become aware of life outside that moment, I glance around me flustered. My clothing is still intact. I’m still me, in a kitchen, at a party. I decide I need a mirror, and ask where a bathroom is. Someone points back toward the hallway that “Involved & Hostess” darted into. Sometimes, life grants you the chance to explore as well as an excuse. I find the bathroom door open, next to a closed door. I lock the bathroom door, thankful to find the mirror I needed to regain my composure. Alone.
I was indeed wine-flush. A shuffling and a sweet feminine “Hostess” moan softly emerges from somewhere. I freeze. Through the mirror I see a window behind me, It peers into the close-doored room. The window is ajar and though it is obscured glass, fluttering candlelight dancing from the other side catches my eye. The supple “Hostess” moan that escaped through the gapped window, unleashes another pulse of longing from between my legs. As I turn my ear towards the window, I can feel the wetness between my panti-less thighs again. I bring my hand to it reflexively. Where I expected to find a warmth, there is fire coming from within me. I hear “Involved” grunt with equal parts pleasure and pining, and I can’t help but release a whimper as my hand glides against the fire raging within me. I slowly peer through the slit in the window, and Hostess’ eyes meet mine and beckon me to join. Do I dare? **Perhaps on this night, V isn’t only for Voyeur.**
**Roses are red**
**Violets are blue**
**I’m going to have sex with total strangers**
**What would you do?**
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/aqbxl2/v_is_for_mff_voyeur_first_person