Deliciously Awkward [MF][Voyeurism]

Her eyes have always haunted me. There is a power within her gaze that was unique to her, or at the very least, I felt unique under her deep scrutiny of me. I haven’t felt the feeling of of her eyes upon me for ages, it has since only haunted me in my long memories of her. Yet, for the first time in what seems like an eternity, I feel that gaze again, her gaze again, and it is like a punch to the gut; my body and soul feel the same, deliciously awkward feeling under the weight of her devouring eyes. That feeling of being stripped bare, visually enjoyed, caressed without permission, and fucked senselessly while the passing crowd goes by unaware.

Anyone that knows her, if you were to ask them, would tell you that her eyes were brown. A few might even go so far to say they were a luscious brown. Either description would be understating it, by quite a lot. From someone that suffered under their scrutiny for days on end, someone that came to know every mote of her irises intimately, I can tell you they are not brown, not even a luscious brown. No, the color of her eyes are a soft amber to get permanently trapped in. Trapped along the shards of fiery agate that line her golden irises. There is only the slightest shape of almonds with her eyes. She rarely decorated them with any eyeliner, and never to my knowledge did she encumbered with mascara, for her lashes were long and thick all on their own.

I am certain I can feel them on me now. Feel them try to unnerve me as they did once upon a time, all the time. I can feel them try to get me to frantically look for their source. I keep my emotions deeply in check, occasionally looking here and there as anyone suffering a layover at the airport does but I make sure I don’t express too much desire to find her, if she is indeed here, and not just in my broken imagination. I keep it cool, yet I cannot help but to reflect…

I recall the first time her eyes rested upon me. My skin had the lightest buzz pass over it then it rippled in an ever lightening echo. It was a lovely feeling actually, almost unique, until my instincts perked up a moment later and my intuition told me that I was being watched. I looked up and it was when I turned my head, that my eyes found hers staring. At the time, I took her in as a lovely stranger, until I noticed her smile.

It wasn’t a gentle smile. It wasn’t filled with chagrin at being caught staring perhaps a bit impolitely. It wasn’t quite a hungry smile. At that time, there was only a hit of hunger. It wasn’t quite an amused smile either, although mirth did outline the edges of it. More than anything, the most shocking thing about that particular smile is that it held annoyance; annoyance that I disrupted her current view of me by returning her gaze. It left me perplexed and a bit annoyed as well. It was at that moment when she read my expression, she laughed and walked away. I went back to what I was focused on and left it at that. A strange moment of happenstance with a stranger, nothing more.

The next time I felt her eyes upon me, the contact was a whisper stronger than the first. There was a hunger laced in it. Like when you first sit down at a fine restaurant and a dessert tray passes you by. You take in the entire tray at first, then you let your eyes peruse each option, perhaps revisiting your top few desires more than once. I felt her eyes all about me as gentle as a summer breeze, with just a hint of heat to the gaze. Then, I felt them hone in on the parts of me, the heat a bit warmer with a weight to the pressure, as if each part separated was a different dessert to judge and perhaps indulge in. I knew the gaze was hers before my eyes met hers again. The smile she had on her face when I found her finally, was a smile I recognized even if I had never seen it upon her the last time. This one hinted at a happiness. A happiness that I could be that aware of her gaze. She left me with nothing else that day. That night however, I had a difficult time removing that smile from my thoughts. A difficulty finding the indifference to her beauty that I easily found after our first encounter. A difficulty not allowing my body to enjoy the memory of how her gaze enjoyed my various parts unabashedly.

The third time, I was now easily an appetizer. I felt the hunger fully. I felt it test me out as if I were just a morsel to tide one over. I felt awkward and self-conscious. I tried to work through the gaze, ignoring it and not returning it. I felt it pull at my lips, in a way that a lover never kissed. I felt the hunger toy with me as if asking a question. Not quite permission, not quite gauging. I can still recall how my heart slowly began to betray me as it started to race. How my skin warmed as much from the touch of those amber eyes as my own biology having reactions a mere gaze shouldn’t cause. As disconcerting as I felt, a part of me didn’t want the gaze to leave me. As much as I wanted to stare her down, I didn’t want her to leave yet and the previous times she always left after I faced her. I had moments of passion in my life. I had moments where I was able to stir desire within my former lovers. But, I never felt someone hunger just at the sight of me. It tickled the small part of me that craved the need to be desired in such a way. As if it were a nearly dead, forgotten thing that finally woken from a near-dormant sleep on life support. I tried to savor the delicious awkwardness as long as possible. I did until I finally had to look at her and into those eyes. I found her right away. I found her glowing with a blush of being in heat. Her smile this time was brief, but it spoke in volume, of unmitigated enjoyment, even if at my expense. My imagination ran away with her as she left, for I swore I could taste the perfume she was wearing, even from the vast distance.

The fourth time, I was a main course. Her gaze gorged upon me. It made no attempts at subtlety any longer. It devoured with no biases. It was maddening. I lost my mind, nearly lost control of my rebelling body, and nearly came just from the experience. I looked upon her right as I was approaching my point of no return. There was no smile there waiting for me this time, only a look of dripping lust. She trembled away, never looking back. My hours that night at home were consumed with thoughts of her. Thoughts that were as wanton as I have ever had for a woman, and it shames me to say I have lustfully obsessed for women from afar before.

The next day, I hunted her down. It took a while, but I eventually found her getting a cup of coffee from a gourmet vending machine. She looked mildly surprised when I greeted her. I didn’t even know her name.

“Hello…” she cut me off.

“Hello, I’m Danielle, and no I am not interested in getting coffee, having dinner, or skipping the details and just going back to my place,” she punctuated it with a devilishly inviting smile.

Her blunt introduction caught me completely off guard, “May I ask why…”

Danielle cut me off, “Why I won’t invite you to my place?”

“No, that is not what I…”

She laughed, my cock stirred in response to it, “It isn’t? That is a shame to know you feel that way. But, to answer the question, I am involved for one thing. For the other, I already like the view as it is quite a bit. I don’t feel the need to want anything more.” With that, she briefly caressed my cheek, and most likely purposefully brushed against the bulge in my pants with her body as she walked passed me. Never looking back to see if I was watching her walk away, because she most likely knew. Up until that moment I was never one to want someone that I couldn’t have, I would usually embrace such rejection and ride the deflation to the next opportunity. Yet, my being ached for her gaze, and the rest of her even deeper now.

Each time after, her gaze was progressively worse upon my form, as she finally got to the dessert portion of the evening and finally allowed to indulge in me however she wanted. All pretenses of this turning into anything else were gone. She indulged just on my being, and I both savored the gaze for the lustful drug it stirred and hated it, for not seeming to have any resistance toward it nor having anyway of tapping into the desirous relief I ached for, which was more than just feeling her eyes touching and consuming me so fully.

By the sixth encounter my body’s arousal didn’t dissipate after she left. By the eighth, it didn’t simmer down by the time I got home. By the tenth, I fled to the bathroom to try to masturbate the deep arousal out of me, because I had no chance of waiting until I got home. By the eleventh encounter, I knew it was futile to repeat the trip to the bathroom. My body and fracturing mind were reaching states of arousal that didn’t end at the climax, a climax only amplified the sensation instead. Like itching a scratch. The more you itched the worse it got. Willing through the arousal was the only recourse and there wasn’t much recourse in that. Every episode after, I refused to meet her gaze. The only act of defiance I had left. Yet, I knew each time the moment she came. And each time, I shamefully craved her more.

I do not recall how many gazes occurred on the day she stood directly outside of my glass-walled office. I recall feeling those eyes on me, I felt like a lobster in an aquarium about to be purchased for final consumption. Almost as soft as the first time I noticed them. Her face was a pondering mask. She finally decided on something and knocked on my glass door. I waved her in.

“Question?…”

“Answer, “ I replied foolishly, replying in an instinctive way as I did with a former love, because around Danielle all I could hope for is reacting instinctively. Her light perfume washed my senses. I could taste it on my tongue, as much from an impossible memory as from her slowly closing in proximity.

She smiled, sweetly innocent, even as my soul knew there was little that was innocent about her, “I am having a get-together with some close friends and acquaintances. I’m curious if you would like to join us.”

“Sure,” the answer left my lips even as every fiber of my remaining sense said that that answer was a terrible mistake.

“Wonderful, I cannot wait to see you there.” The way she said “see” was as if she slipped her lips around me, seeking a nourishment, only a deep lust can fulfill.

I didn’t feel her gaze for the remainder of that week. I felt lost and in a withdrawal that borderlines on painful. I missed her gaze as much as I would have missed water in the heat-scorching desert.

~~~

The first thing about the so-called get-together was that I was just slightly underdressed on average. There didn’t seem to be a code to it, yet most of the women were wearing dresses that could be considered second skins, and most of the men were in suits that were sharp with wealth. I thought about retrieving my suitcoat and tie from the car, but figured at this point it was already a lost cause, the initial error in judgment already occurred.

Danielle greeted me briefly, as if we were fast friends. Introduced me around, knowing more details about me then I would have imagined she could. Then, left me to my own affairs as she greeted other newcomers. I didn’t know another soul. None of these people as far as I could tell were from the building we both worked at.

My better sense told me to flee. I hated gatherings like this. They made me standoffish from the start. The only person I knew was floating from conversation to conversation, and I barely knew her. I didn’t know what I was expecting. My lust lured me here like a lost puppy. Even in an environment that I would normally avoid, I needed to feel that gaze again. Just a hit of it, then I could flee.

I felt it a bit, as I stood as a wallflower, taking in the party. I felt it a bit more as I tried to socialize. My body reacting as if it had never been touched before. I felt awkward trying to hide an erection I couldn’t control. The more uncomfortable I got, the deeper the gaze became. The feedback loop was unbearable. Yet, the part of me that craved this level of desire, never wanted it to end. I didn’t want the gaze, I needed it. Even if that was all I could ever have of her.

I found a sofa to sit on, a temporary solace from the awkwardness both of my traitorous body and my discomfort of the event. A lovely woman approached. In any other place, I would have thought beautiful. But, Danielle was consuming my thoughts, in ways best to have when one is alone with them.

“May I join you?” the lady asked, waiting politely, in case the rest of the sofa was being reserved.

“By all means…” she sat down, tugging at her short dress to try to cover her thighs a bit more. From most, it would have been a feigned act of modesty. From her, it almost seemed genuine.

Her name was Suzi, and her personality reflected it over Suzan or Suzanna or whatever her proper name was. She was a calm in a storm. She was sweet and light. Quick with a smile and sincere with her laughter. She was more than lovely. I would have died to have met a woman like her anywhere else. Yet, as we talked, I felt Danielle’s gaze slip under my clothes. I got drunk on the touch. Suzi mistakenly got the feeling I was getting drunk on her. She edged closer. She kept nervously playing with a strand of her near platinum hair. My unchecked lust let my eyes take her in a bit more hungrily, even as my thoughts were still filled with another woman entirely. Danielle’s gaze burned with a heat. I could almost smell that dampness between her thighs from across the room. Or perhaps it was Suzi’s thighs I smelled. Suzi seemed to respond positively to my mood. I got the feeling she rarely had men take her too seriously, and I did hang on her every word. Not because I was playing her, but rather because the cadence of her voice did help distract me from the other set of eyes devouring me, even if just a bit. I felt strange and torn. Her hand rested casually on my thigh. Danielle’s gaze burned at my neck. Suzi adjusted the way she was sitting and her eyes gave my attentive one’s permission to look everywhere else along her contoured body as I might desire. I let them drop down to feast on her breasts and just how high her dress rode back up her thighs. She smiled as if she ensnared me. Danielle’s gaze seemed to be all around my cock now. Teasing me to just enough madness that I would do something, anything to the woman I was sitting with.

I found my will. I wouldn’t give Danielle the satisfaction. Suzi was obviously at the point that she was waiting for me to suggest that we leave. There was a level of desire in her hungry eyes as well. A part of me screamed that I was a fool for not taking up the silent offer. For freeing myself from the trap I was in with Danielle. Yet, whatever sense of man was still left in me, I could not leave with Suzi, I could not go to back to her place and fuck her while my mind was fantasizing about someone else. Even as low as I have spiraled, I still at least had that much character left. Suzi and I exchanged numbers, but she seemed perplexed that she was leaving alone. The last part of my sanity was screaming that I was a bloody fool for letting her slip away. As she walked out the door, Danielle’s gaze seemed to weaken upon my flesh. I felt doubly empty at that.

I hovered for the next hour, drifting in and out of conversations halfheartedly. Trying to balance the feeling that the old part of me that I recognized wished I would have left and this new part that insanely craved the mere gaze of Danielle. I hovered waiting as people slowly left. I hovered until I was one of four remaining. I hovered closer to Danielle and the couple she was conversing with. They initially seemed ready to go, but then seemed to stay because they didn’t have a good gauge of me. A few shared glances and assurances from Danielle and they finally left as well.

It was just the two of us now. It was the first time we were ever truly alone. Her eyes were naked and assaulted me with an open rapture. The rest of her was as casually aloof as always.

“So it seemed like you and Suzi really hit it off. I was surprised you didn’t leave with her,” the words flowed from her lips, her eyes fucking me in very inappropriate ways.

“She was very nice. We exchanged numbers, I might…”

Danielle laughed, a delightful, sinister laugh, “Suzi is a lot of things. Most guys would not say she is nice, at least in the way you are saying it. She probably would have loved you all the more because you think so. And because of it, she would have tried that much harder to convince you otherwise…”

I let that play in my mind just as I twitched to slide my hand up Danielle’s thigh to see if she was as soaked as I imagined her to be. How she could inflict that much lust through a gaze and not be seemed impossible. She mistook my silence.

“So, why did you stay?”

“You know why I stayed…”

“Do I?” she smiled. Her teeth looked sharp, a predator before it took its first bite.

I weighed the words. There were so many ways to respond.

“Close your eyes,” I whispered.

“Why?” she countered, it was not inflected with a no however.

“If you want to know why I stayed, you will close your eyes.”

She smiled, and let them close, softly.

I stared at her, and imagined ripping off her dress. I either saw her shudder or I imagined it. It didn’t matter.

I imagined what she looked like beneath, and she took a sharp intake of breath.

I imagined slipping my hand up her soaked, naked thigh. And her eyes snapped open. She tried to smile, but she couldn’t.

“Fuck! Close your eyes,” she uttered, for the first time seeming a bit out of sorts.

“No.”

“Please!” there was a crack in her voice. A turning of the tides. A different phase of the moon.

I closed my eyes. I could feel her step closer to me. I trembled with it. My cock throbbed, reaching toward her gravity.

She whispered in my ear.

“Think about how you need to take me right now. Imagine it. Not how you should or how you want to. I want you to think about how you need to. All I want is your need.”

I do not recall how our clothes got peeled from our bodies. I only recall how I needed her more than anything else in that moment. And taking her the way I needed to. And the way she screamed for more and giving her all I had to give, until we fumbled toward softer cravings and more sated feastings than famished.

~~~

After all of this time. After all of these years, I feel her gaze upon me again. I savor the gentle caresses. I indulge on the wicked needs. I feel deliciously awkward, as people get caught in the storm, of the gaze and my reaction, like collateral damage.

After too much, I finally seek her out. My eyes lock onto hers. And she smiles, before she closes her eyes, standing in the middle of the terminal, deliciously awkward, trembling and moaning and not caring who sees or hears, as I subject my needs upon her, with my hungry gaze and wonder at how our lives are suddenly bound in the same direction again, while having no idea now where I am heading to.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/e1jzer/deliciously_awkward_mfvoyeurism