A Summer with Gina

He held Gina up, supporting her completely while her feet came off the bed. In that position her decent onto the man's cock was controlled wholly by him, the girl's entire weight supported by his arms, his erection acting as a plinth upon which she was impaled.

From where I was I could only gape at the sight: the mollusc of Gina's fat-lipped pussy taking that rigid length.

Then, in a synchronised effort, the man thrust up to meet Gina on the downstroke, his balls jumping with the impact before he lifted her up and repeated the process.

It went on for half-a-minute or so, their moans and grunts combining, their occasional blurts of pleasure reaching me.

I went for my cock, stroking myself while I kept my gaze locked the point where Gina's body accepted that cock, a wave of shock hitting me with breath-taking force when I glanced up to her face and saw the recognition in her expression.

Gina had seen me.

She knew I was there.

Time froze.

My hand stilled while the steel in my hard-on turned molten.

I stood there and gawped, stunned into immobility, my brain refusing to accept the fact I'd been caught, that she was, in fact, still looking right at me.

For me, time stopped at the moment of realisation; then it stretched, myriad scenarios playing out in my head during the two or three seconds Gina and I stared at one another.

On the bed, the action didn't cease. The man continued to fuck up into Gina. He grunted and gasped, oblivious to the voyeur at the door. I could still make out the thwack-thwack-thwack of flesh slapping flesh, although the sound came from so far away. Gina's hair swung, she held her feet off the bed with her toes pointed in her ballerina pose. Her mouth hung open, her expression delighted at being so vigorously shagged. But I could see the knowledge in her eyes. In another second or so she would react.

During that singularity, while reality stretched, I expected her to cry out in alarm. I thought she would slide sideways off her lover, yelling as his cock sprung out of her. I expected her pointing finger to precede the man's surprise, his outrage rising when he saw me.

Then I anticipated a hiding, a good working over by his fists.

Despair at the girl's anticipated anger and her inevitable condemnation for me being such a sneaky pervert was already sliding in the pit of my stomach. I was mortified, once more ashamed at how weak I'd been by succumbing to my base desires.

I thought about the grovelling apology I would have to make, could already see the disappointment, the hurt and disdain in the girl's eyes as the aftermath of this hideous moment played out in my mind.

Thoughts tumbled inside my head, none of them happy.

That period of elasticity could only have been a few heartbeats in duration, but I lived through a lot in that short space of time.

Then reality snapped back and I awaited the chaos.

We continued looking at one another across the no-man's land between door and bed, with Gina letting out a low moan.

Here it comes, I thought.

But all the girl did was let that sound drone out of her before, to my gape-mouthed astonishment, she simply smirked at me.

I watched her face change, the O of pleasure replaced by a vulpine grin.

"Fuck me," the girl said, speaking to the man beneath her but keeping her eyes locked on my face. "Fuck my pussy with your big fucking cock."

My stomach flipped as a litany of filth poured out of the sly-faced young woman.

Gina groaned again, wincing and scrunching her nose at me.

"Shit, Gina," the young man hissed. "You're mad for it today. What's made you so horny?"

"I love to fuck," she replied, leaning forward to force herself down on his root, her hips corkscrewing. "And fucking your cock is so good," she added, her eyes never leaving mine.

It took an immense effort of will to move away from the door. I wanted to stay and watch them go at it until the conclusion. I wanted to watch it all, but common sense kicked in when the man grunted out he wanted Gina on her hands and knees.

I realised the young fellow might not take too kindly to me lurking and wanking. I somehow got the sense he'd be a little pissed off if he knew I'd been spying.

Under other circumstances he might have let me watch -- a chance crossing of paths if I'd been out in some woodland with the dog perhaps? He might have been willing to exhibit his prowess in such a situation, showing off while shagging a lovely young woman and a sad old bloke watched with envy in his expression.

But, most probably, catching me perving on him and Gina as I was, despite it being my house, well, that might just get me a beating.

So I did the wise thing and, with some reluctance, legged it as soon as they began to move towards Gina presenting herself to him on her hands and knees.

Half an hour later the front door closed.

And then my phone rang.

"Yes?" I warbled upon answering.

"I am in the house," Gina informed me. "Where are you?"

"Nearby," I said, very reluctant to reveal my true location. "Where's your boyfriend?"

"He is gone," she told me. "I said I needed to clean the place a little bit."

A pause.

"I think you need to come home and talk to me, Andrew."

Buster followed me along the hall to the landing, but when I hesitated he passed me.

I heard Gina greet the dog when he trotted into the kitchen.

With no alternative, concerned by Gina's reaction to my presence, I crept slowly down.

Another pause at the kitchen door. Before I entered I paused and took a deep breath, fingers clenching.

"Gina, I'm so sorry," I said.

****

The girl sat at the table, a long-stemmed goblet in front of her. When I saw she had poured herself a white wine I went to the fridge and took out a beer.

Buster lapped at the water in his bowl and then, after sniffing Gina's shoes and finding nothing to interest him, sauntered away towards the lounge.

I popped the tab on the beer can and, with embarrassment heating my cheeks, turned to face the girl.

She looked at me, her expression inscrutable, those big eyes gazing.

It got to be too much for me to handle. I couldn't stand the quiet; I couldn't take her looking at me that way.

"Oh, God, Gina ... I'm sorry," I said again. "I couldn't leave the house the first day you came round. I wasn't sure about your boyfriend, I thought he might..."

I hesitated, unsure about how to continue.

"Oh, I don't know," Gina," I added. "I was in the house when you were outside. I didn't mean to look ... But you were out there, in the garden, you looked so beautiful with him, and I ... I..."

That was where I stopped. I couldn't really explain it all. It didn't make much sense to me, so what chance did I have of making Gina understand how it felt? It had been a crazy time, madness, a kind of insanity brought on because I had grown foolishly besotted by an unattainable young woman. I cursed my own ridiculous emotions.

"Andrew," she murmured. "It doesn't matter. You do not have to feel bad. You do not have to worry, Andrew. Could you not see?" she asked. "When you were looking -- could you not see I liked it?

"I do not mind, Andrew. I liked it. I like to be watched."

Three

So I watched again, a few more times, Gina complicit, willing in fact. She was so eager, performing in front of me. There's no other description -- it was a performance, she put on a show for our mutual pleasure. Gina got as much of a thrill from being watched as I did as the voyeur. It was so much better than my earlier and more clandestine involvement.

I watched Gina suck the man's cock, with her making sure her lover was positioned to the best advantage for me to witness her lips being stretched. Of course the man could have turned to see me watching, but with her lips and tongue working at him I think his attention was pretty much assured to be focussed right where Gina intended.

I gaped open-mouthed at the sight of Gina grinning as she slurped and slobbered the man's long dick. When they fucked, as Gina grunted and moaned and gasped, her body writhing like smoke rising from a fire, she always ensured she gave me the best possible view.

"Gina, really?" the young man gasped one afternoon. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes," she replied, climbing off his cock, her desire dripping from her opening as she flung her leg over his body. "Do it all over me. I want you to come on my face."

"That's fucking filthy, Gina," he remarked, puling the johnny-bag off his dick. "You're the nastiest bitch ever."

I saw Gina smirk, and her eyes met mine in a brief, conspiratorial exchange. Watch this, I read in the look she gave me as she proceeded to crank the boy's dick, her fist working until, with a great bellow and a snort he let fly with a huge outpouring of ejaculate.

Gina flinched when the stuff spattered across her cheek. She yelped and giggled as a thick, glistening rope of jizm landed in her hair, more spurts of it corrupting her pretty face.

When it was over, just before I left the scene, I caught sight of Gina, her face plastered with viscous semen, strands of it in her hair as she slurped at the gloop oozing from the eye, teasing the man's cock-head with the tip of her tongue. She winked at me and then gommed the big purple dome, sucking her cheeks concave, her hand slowly jacking the shaft while her soft murmurs reached my ears.

Afterwards she made an excuse, telling her boyfriend she needed to shower before she could leave, convincing him to go and saying she'd catch up with him later.

Then, after the girl had cleaned herself up and we were drinking together in the kitchen, Gina introduced me to the idea of installing a camera in that bedroom.

I thought about it, dismissing the notion almost instantly, but it only popped back up later on. Like a pernicious weed in the garden the thought wouldn't die. It refused to succumb, which is why I found myself at a local computer shop a day later, an independent retailer who also dealt in home security.

I explained I wanted a system that I could hook up to my laptop, my needs including remote access from wherever I was. I explained I wanted sound and I wanted video as well as the ability to store the resultant footage.

The man in the shop thought it was a home security system I wanted, which suited me fine. He sold me everything I needed and offered to install it, too. An offer I declined -- five cameras in one room might lead to awkward questions.

There were a few problems due to my inexperience, but two days later I had all the cameras installed in the bedroom. I could watch Gina live from wherever I wanted, the images stored on an external hard drive so I could watch her again and again.

No more lurking at the doorway. The risk of the young man spotting me and exacting some kind of violent retribution was void.

Half a dozen more visits and I had twenty minutes worth of edited action. Lewd highlights of Gina in the throes of passion. When I told her about it she insisted she wanted to see.

I couldn't have dreamed of a better outcome.

****

We were in the lounge, the external hard drive plugged into the USB port in the side of the television. Gina sat on the sofa; she looked gorgeous in her rough-hemmed denim mini and tiny top. I held a cold beer and she had chilled white wine, with Gina engrossed in the action on-screen while I watched her reaction.

A knot tightened in my stomach. Tension thrummed inside me.

The footage was about halfway through when the girl looked at me.

Her stare twisted the knot tighter. "You like to watch, Andrew?"

I nodded, shrugging in an attempt to appear casual as I added a caveat: "It isn't something I've done before, Gina. The time I saw you in the garden," I tilted my head in the appropriate direction, "was the first time. But I like watching you, yes."

God, how I wanted to launch myself at her.

The girl blinked, nodding slowly. "Do you like it so much?" she purred, shifting to get more comfortable, legs tucked under her bottom.

Did I detect a catch in Gina's voice, or was it simply her accent? Croaking, I replied with, "I like it a lot, Gina. I can't tell you what it is really. I..."

Hesitation. I was unsure about how much to divulge. Then, throwing caution to the wind, I said, "I like you, Gina."

Sighing I shook my head and put the words together carefully.

"I know it's ridiculous, a middle-aged man's pathetic notion, but I was drawn to you from the first time I saw you. In the park, when I was out with Buster. I noticed you a couple of days before you stopped to stroke him."

I sighed again, futility a heavy weight against my chest.

In the silence, Gina blinked at me, lips slightly parted.

Then she murmured, "But you like watching me fuck?"

Yearning tugged at me as I croaked, "God, yes. Seeing you do it ... You look so ... so ... so free. You seem to get lost in it, Gina. I've never seen anyone's face show so much honest enjoyment.

"And when you kiss..." I paused, frowning when the thought occurred to me. "Do you love your boyfriend?" I asked.

The girl considered that for a second before pulling a face. Her bottom lip stuck out as she gazed at me wide-eyed. "Love him?" she pouted, eyelids lowering. "No, Andrew. I don't know him well enough to love him. He's okay..."

Gina shrugged and sipped wine, shaking her head while her eyes flicked to the screen.

"He's okay," she repeated, glancing at me. "But it is what it is. I could not see myself with him for anything but the sex. I like fucking and I am in England for some months. I needed a man for the sex. But that is all, Andrew. I will go home in September and forget about him."

We watched some more of the edited highlights while I pondered her remarks, the action on the screen depicting Gina on her knees with that man's thick cock between her lips.

Gina watched the scene, her emotions and thoughts a mystery to me.

I saw her nod vigorously when her video image took a load of semen against her face.

"I asked him to do it on my face because I knew the camera was there," Gina explained. "It makes me feel sexy to watch it when he comes. I have not seen it from this angle before."

A deep-rooted desire to create such carnage tightened in the pit of my stomach. In my mind's eye I saw Gina smiling at me while I unloaded all over her pretty face.

"Did you like it when he did that?" I asked her, the words barely a croak.

Gina looked directly at me. "I don't mind. It stings if it gets in my eyes, but it doesn't make me feel good or bad to have it on my skin. I wouldn't do it if I could not get clean afterwards. I like to watch it come out. For me that's good to see." Gina's chin nudged towards the television. "He likes it. He likes to come on my face. Look at him." Then she laughed and added, "But he won't kiss me after he has done it."

In a final aside, an afterthought as she stared at the television, semen clinging to her hair, the stuff sliding over her chin, Gina said, "Oh, it is also bad when that happens. If it dries in my hair..."

A few minutes passed before Gina spoke again. "Andrew?" she said quietly.

I looked at her and she continued with, "You say you like to watch me..."

There was a definite catch in her voice, the husky undertone adding extra starch to my erection.

"Yes," I croaked, sensing something portentous.

"I'm feeling very horny, Andrew." The girl squirmed and untucked her long legs. "Would you like to watch me now? I want to touch myself."

I boggled at her when she stood up and, in a shimmy, dropped her skirt to the carpet.

"Oops," Gina grinned, head tilting.

"Oh, Jesus," I groaned when confronted with her smooth pudendum.

"There is something else, Andrew," the minx murmured. "If you watch me touch myself, can I also watch you while you do it?"

The girl then slumped back into the settee, casually brought her feet up to rest on the cushion and let her thighs fall open. She slid a finger through her labia, splitting the folds to reveal her scarlet core. The other hand went up beneath her skimpy bootlace top, fingers squeezing her little breasts as she smirked at me, the crooked twist to her lips and the glint in her eyes a challenge.

"Show me," breathed Gina. "Show me what you do when you get excited by watching."

Four

July

I showed her, although it took me a few long seconds to recover from the blatant display on the settee. Seeing Gina do that, for real, exclusively for me, well, it took my breath away. I couldn't believe my eyes or my luck. It was unreal, a lottery win. It couldn't be happening.

But it was, Gina was right there on the sofa, legs wide while she looked at me and slid the middle and third fingers of one hand into her pussy.

"Don't be shy, Andrew," she gurgled, the words clotted -- Her accent always got heavier the more aroused Gina became.

The sound of her voice and her heavy-lidded gaze set me in motion.

I got busy while time did that weird stretchy thing again. I rose from my own chair and, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on Gina, unbuckled my belt.

My jeans went down to my knees.

"You are excited already," she commented, eyeing my cock.

I gulped and returned her stare, a hand stroking my length as I replied with, "I'm always excited when you're here, Gina."

The girl winced and grimaced as she slid her fingers around her vulva, rubbing her clit before dipping the same two digits into her opening again.

"Show me," she sighed, her stomach washboard tight.

Gina thrust her pelvis forward, jerking her hips while pushing her fingers into her body, eyes closing.

I sat in that chair and stroked my dick, sucking in every exquisite detail of the girl's lithe form as she performed for me.

It got to where I was tugging hard, gasping at the sensations while Gina knelt on the settee, buttocks thrust back, pelvis tilted. She reached back and held one cheek wide with her fingertips, exposing all of her intimate places to me.

"Oh, Gina," I moaned when her sticky labia peeled apart with gooey reluctance. I could see the dark smudge of her sphincter and, for a moment, wondered what she would taste of if I dared to probe that roundel with my tongue.

Gina grinned at me, craning round to look, her tight waist barely creased she was so slender.

"Are you going to come, Andrew?" she asked, winking.

I nodded and gasped. "Soon," I grunted.

She stood up and danced towards me, so light on her feet. Gina slipped her top over her head and, only a couple of feet away from me, close enough to touch if I leaned out to reach for her, ran a palm over her body.

Gina grasped the tiny mounds of her tits with one hand while using two fingers inside her opening. "Do it," the girl grunted, her eyelids lowering. She went at herself, squirming against her hand, bottom lip between her teeth. "I will come also if you come. Please, Andrew," she whined. "Make it come out. Show me how excited you are."

"Oh, I'm excited, Gina," I snarled, gritting my teeth while my hand cranked. "This is incredible. You're so fucking lovely..."

Since it all started, ever since I'd seen Gina in the garden I'd masturbate three or four times a day. I couldn't credit it; my libido was a snarling, ravenous, slavering monster, its appetite voracious.

I'd pull my dick in the morning, spray jizm everywhere, shower and then be ready to tug again a couple of hours later.

I wanked in the afternoon, in the evening after going to bed, and I'd even go at it in the middle of the night, waking up horny with images of Gina in my head to fuel my ardour.

"...I've been excited since I saw you in the park," I finished.

Gina got vocal, moaning and gasping, her hand moving rapidly as the sobs rose from her chest. She sat on the carpet in front of me and leaned back against one straight arm, feet coming up from the floor, hips jerking while her body squelched around those probing digits.