[M] [F] [M-solo] [F-solo] [exhib] [piss] [preg] The bedroom window

I was horny. Of that level of horny that a woman only reaches twice a month: when her period starts, and when she is ovulating. Tonight, for me, it was ovulation. I was at my most fertile, and at my most horny.

I had spent all day at work trying to scratch that itch, by reading erotica on my phone, by letting my thighs gently squeeze and rub, but all to no avail. The more I sent shivers of pleasure down my spine, the more I craved. I was a bottomless pit of sexual desire that day.

When I finally made it home at the end of the day, it’s as if I was on autopilot, as if my vagina had a mind of its own, and it had taken control of the rest of my body.

I went upstairs to the bedroom, shut the door behind me, and… opened the window to my bedroom. I pulled back the blinds, and opened the window as wide as I could. I laid down on the bed, and took all my clothes off. I let my hands wander all over my naked body. I felt smooth as silk, my hands perfectly cupping my petite breasts, my fingers tickling my hips, and finally reaching the little patch of hair on my pubes. I didn’t like the nude look, but I was a well kempt lady and for heaven’s sake, my vagina was too!

I turned the lights off, all except the little lamp on my nightstand. If someone knew what to look for, even in the dark of the night, that light would reveal my indecent exposure. But a casual observer, they would just see a little lamp and a figure, and move on. Did I want to get caught? Yes, yes I did.

I laid down on the bed, my bare pussy facing the open window, my legs spread wide. I was a statue to sexual perversion. Had my body been marble, I would have been an exhibit in the local museum. But I was made of flesh. Of soft smooth flesh. And of tense nerves exploding with pent-up sexual desire.

I took my phone in my hand, and pulled up my favorite erotic story. It told the tale of a girl fucked by her teacher in his office. I wanted to be that girl. I craved it. Fatherly authority figures were one of my many weaknesses. And the risk of being caught, it only made everything so much more exhilarating.

It didn’t take long for me to feel it. It started as a pang right below my navel. It felt like a deep dull ache. It was arousal slowly working its way. I let my other hand wander on my nipples. I felt them hard. The friction of my own fingers gave me a shiver. It made me moan. I had all the time in the world. And I wasn’t about to waste it. I rubbed. I pinched. I licked my fingers, and rubbed some more. They were hard. Pointed upwards. Little cherries on top of my breasts, aching to be savored by the mouth of a man. Alas, it was not going to be. Not tonight. I looked out the window, hoping to see someone, anyone. I was alone. My mating dance had no witness.

I pinched once more, trying to tighten my grip as hard as I could, until the pain made me hiss, and my hips twitch. It was the kind of pain that makes one beg for more, the kind of pain that is as much pain as it is pleasure.

I let my hand reach my belly. I caressed it. Drew little circles with the tips of my fingers. Teased myself gently, letting my hand caress ever so close to my pubes, but not quite ever reaching. I whispered to myself how beautiful I would look if I was expecting. How full my belly would be if I a man desired me enough to get me pregnant. It was the ultimate act of desire. Deeper than all others. A man who would want me enough to create a new life inside of me. Oh how the desire made me ache. How I craved it. A stranger witnessing my actions. Knocking at the door. And begging me, imploring me. As if he would need to, I scoffed. I wanted to be pregnant more than almost anything else tonight. It was my hormones talking, no doubt. But motherhood felt just right on me.

I moaned as my fingers finally couldn’t resist, and reached for my pussy. I was wet. Soaking wet. The juices dripping down my thighs, on the bed sheets. Had I always been this wet? I had no idea. But right now, one, two, three fingers, they all slid perfectly inside of me. Just about filling me. My walls squeezing around them. The fingers pushing deep, rubbing my g-spot. I knew myself. I knew how to bring myself to a quick climax. I kept rubbing. And I rubbed. More. Faster. Harder. My hips writhing, twitching, my moans loud, obnoxiously so. “Fuck fuck yes oh ah oh fuck ah oh yes” I screamed as hard as my lungs allowed.

I came. I thought it would be a few more seconds, but I came. It was sudden. I saw him. And I came. Finally my call had been heeded. There he was. The building on the other side of the street. He looked young. Maybe even a bit too young for this. But it was too late to undo it. He was naked. His hand pushing against the glass. His other hand stroking his cock. He was clearly staring at me. He didn’t even try to hide it. Did he notice that I noticed? I couldn’t tell. But I could see his hard cock and I could discern his hand stroking it. And that was all it took.

I had been caught. I was a public whore. An exposed defenseless slut. I was dirty. I was the kind of woman that let strangers masturbate to her. It made me feel disgusting. No, scratch that. It made me feel the kind of slut that good proper society speaks of with disgust. And that gave me pleasure. Immense pleasure. I was not a proper lady. No, I said to myself, “I am a slut that likes being watched. I want strangers to watch me and to fuck me pregnant. This is me.”
And to that I came. It was strong, intense. It left me breathless. It left my legs shaking. But I knew I wasn’t done. I knew I had at least one more in me. And I wanted it to be bliss. Pure bliss. For myself. And for the stranger watching. I didn’t know his name, but for tonight, he was going to be Damien.

“Watch this Damien” I smirked to myself. I took it out. A black dildo. A massive black dildo. Most days it was too big, too thick. But tonight it was what I needed. Tonight I had no boundaries, no shame. Tonight nothing was too much for me.

I pissed on the toy. I soaked the bed, the room smelling of a mix of my piss and my arousal. I pushed the dildo deep into me. It reached depths that no man ever had. It made me feel full. It stretched me wide, as my body tried to squeeze tight around it. It had knots and curves at just the right spots. It was a marvel of engineering. And everything about it just screamed “fuck yes” to me.

What was Damien thinking? What was he feeling? I didn’t know. But he was still watching. And stroking. I want to believe he waved at me. Maybe I dreamt. Maybe not. But I waved back at him. “Yes, I know you’re there. Yes I want you there. Keep going” I begged him in my heart.

One hand squeezed my throat, the other rode the dildo. It was a difficult exercise, a matter of all kinds of synchronization. I gasped for air. I moaned. It was working. I could fuck and choke myself.

“Fuck me Damien” I whispered, my words cut short by the lack of breath in my lungs. I rode the toy as hard as I could, as deep as I could. And I imagined Damien’s dick as that hard thick rod, I imagined him cumming in my ever so fertile pussy. And the more I did, the closer I came. Everything in the room smelled of sex, of arousal. Everything around me was ever so sexual. And I was so close to it. I could feel it happen.

I looked at Damien one last time, and I saw him. He was still. His hand still around his cock. It looked like he had closed his eyes. Or maybe I was just filling in the blanks. He had cum, I could sense it. That was the last incentive. That was all I needed.

I too came. I let out a loud “yeeees” and I came in what felt like the strongest squirt I had ever made. Every nerve of my body tensed, my back arched, my hips shaking rhythmically, to the ancient timeless dance of sex. They were twitching, as if trying to squeeze every drop of cum out of my lover.

“Breed me Damien” I whispered, as my pleasure faded, leaving me in a puddle of my own fluids, leaving me spent, relaxed, finally satiated of my lust.

I didn’t know if I would ever meet the stranger I named Damien, but I knew that he would tell people about this, and I knew they wouldn’t believe him. After all, these are things that only happen in erotica, right?

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/bclq21/m_f_msolo_fsolo_exhib_piss_preg_the_bedroom_window