Page 1 of He Sees You When You're Sleeping

jack

. . .

Moans filter through the frosted window, the pane caked in icy snow. It’s dark, except for the light from her phone spotlighting her face. Shadows from the video flit across her features, twisted in unadulterated pleasure.

She’s not putting on a show. She’s not worried about stroking anyone’s ego. She’s not trying to suck in her stomach, or hold her body in a certain way to be more appealing.

She’s just trying to get herself off selfishly. Unabashedly.

Her thighs tremble as she drags her Christmas-green vibrator down her curvy body, over each dip and swell of her breasts and stomach, before finally settling it between her thick thighs. There’s a pause—she holds the rounded tip against her slit, like she’s teasing herself. Working herself up with the anticipation of feeling it spread her lips apart, pressing against her swollen clit before dipping lower to her tight, wet entrance.

My hand moves to my black belt, and the buckle jingles in the frigid, silent air. It comes undone effortlessly, and as I stroke my fingers along the smooth leather, I wonder what it would look like wrapped around her neck. The images my mind conjures up makes my cock throb in time with my racing heart.

Her blonde hair lays in a thick blanket across her pillow, and her skin, pale from the winter, glows in the dim lighting. I can almost see her icy blue eyes, round as saucers and sparkly like Christmas lights.

The button on my jeans slides through the hole, and the zipper is almost deafening as I drag it down, the teeth vibrating against my achingly hard length. My eyes stayed glued to the woman on the other side of the window, her body on display, spread open, and bare for me.

Her lips part on a silent gasp as she turns the vibrator on. The show is about to begin. I tug my jeans and boxers down enough to free myself, the air around me almost painful as it hits the hot flesh of my cock. I spit in my hand before reaching down and wrapping it around myself, the rough calluses of my palm adding the bite of pain I need to finish.

Noelle’s body shakes as she balances her phone in one hand, the other teasing her clit. I want to break through the glass and dive headfirst between those legs. My mouth waters at the thought of her flavor—sweet and spicy, like a Christmas cookie. I’d leave poinsettia-red marks all over her soft body, and wrap a strip of garland around her throat like a leash.

She’d crawl for me, following me around like a lost little puppy with her tongue lolling out of her mouth. She’d be so drunk on my cum, so out of her mind with pleasure, she wouldn’t know how to speak—she wouldn’t even know her own fucking name.

My grip tightens, and I swallow back a groan. Her phone falls to the side as she presses the vibrator inside her, and I watch her body stretch to accommodate it’s thickness. She’s slick and ready, her cunt begging to be filled.

I’d sell my left nut to be balls deep in her right now, instead of outside her window in the snow, watching her get herself off.For now, I’ll take what I can get. But soon, she’ll be all mine, and I can’t fucking wait.

She slides the toy deeper until it fully disappears inside her. I let spit fall from my lips and coat my cock again before I drag my hand over it, my grip almost painful. My hips buck forward, and my teeth sink into my bottom lip.

I need to be inside her. I need to know what she smells like, what she feels like, what her moans sound like right against my ear.

Her hand lifts to her full breast, and she pinches her rosy nipple roughly. I want to do that—I want to bite down on the hard little nubs and not stop until she’s screaming and crying and begging. I twist my hand as I stroke myself, coating my cock in the precum seeping from my thick tip.

She cries out, and the sound is muffled through the window, but I can hear it clearly. Her back bows off the bed, her entire body going taut. The veins in her neck strain, and her voice turns into nothing—I imagine it’s just a faint breath as all the air leaves her lungs with her release, like she’s so lost in the feeling that she’s forgotten how to breathe. My toes curl in my boots, and my free hand braces against the side of her house. My release teeters on the edge, and the muscles in my arm begin trembling, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not until I’ve painted the snow-covered siding with my hot cum.

A snarl pushes from my throat as I barrel closer. It’s right there. Almost there. I feel it building, higher and higher?—

She slides the vibrator from her pussy, and it glistens in the low light from the video. My jaw goes slack as she lifts it to her lips, wrapping them around it. Her eyelids flutter shut and her throat bulges as she presses it in deeper, swallowing it.

My eyes cross as my orgasm rips from me in a violent, sudden wave. My cum coats her house the way I wish it would coat her face. A roaring fills my ears as I watch her suck herrelease clean off that fucking toy. It takes every ounce of strength I possess to not tear through this window and fuck her stupid.

Finally, she pops the vibrator free and relaxes into her bed with a satisfied smile on her pretty face. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and my cock twitches in my hand, perking up for round two. But I tuck it away, leaving my cum on the house, and slip into the night like a ghost.

It’ll be torture seeing her at work in the morning, but at least tomorrow night, when everyone has gone home and it’s just the two of us, the games can finally begin.

noelle

. . .

It’s the most wonderful time of year…for everyone except mall elves.

Look, I love my job as much as the next elf, but if one more kid projectile vomits on my too-tight uniform, I will lose my mind. They’re screaming, and crying, and weirdly terrified of Santa—which, I get, because the man is massive—and when they’re put on his lap for wishes and photos, they upchuck all the cookies and candy canes their parents gave them in line.

And where does that end up? All over me.

At least my shift is over, and the mall is closing for the night. But tomorrow, I have to do it all again.

I wring the water from my shirt in the bathroom sink, nearly gagging as the nauseating floral-scented soap surrounds me. All I want is to go home, read a smutty book, play with my vibrator, and pass out. Is that really too much to ask?

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