Watch Me Read online

  WATCH ME

  A Voyeur Milking Fantasy

  Copyright © 2016 Joan Farraneau

  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, including photo-copying, recording, or any other electronic or mechanical methods, without express permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  First Printing, 2016.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real places, events, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Thanks and happy reading!

  <3 Joan

  Watch Me

  1.

  Lanie

  My phone alarm goes off in the middle of dinner. While my father tells a camping story from his college days—a story I’ve heard a thousand times—I discreetly pull my phone from my pocket and dismiss the alarm. It’s time. Friday night. Time to go to my room and perform. For him .

  I take a few more bites of dinner, though I’m not feeling very hungry. My father’s at his favorite part of the story. My mother and little brother are sitting quietly and listening to him. I can tell they are as interested as I am, though both at least pretend to pay attention. I push the food around on my plate, trying to make it look as if I have eaten more than I have.

  Finally, just as my father is about to drop his favorite joke, I push myself up from the table. I can’t stand the wait anymore.

  “Excuse me,” I say, grabbing my dish from the table and walking over to the sink. My father breaks off his story and looks up at me questioningly.

  “I’ve got some homework to do,” I explain. It’s the first thing that pops into my head. Classic. Of course I don’t have any; I’m in my last semester of college and the professors have all but kicked me out the door.

  My father shrugs and turns back to my mother and brother. As if he were a movie that’s been paused, he begins again exactly where he left off, even his hands resuming their position in the story. As I walk out of the kitchen I catch my mother’s eye. She sighs, the words on her face as plain as day: lucky you .

  In my bedroom, I lock the door behind me. I live on the side of the house that the rest of the family rarely visits, but I don’t want to skimp on any precautions. Especially not tonight.

  When I’m sure the door’s locked and no one’s going to come barging in, I flick the bedside lamp on and dim the overhead light. In the semi-darkness, I draw open the curtains of the large window next to my bed.

  I peer out into the backyard. The night is young, though cloudy enough that the lawn is shrouded in darkness. I can see the flicker of my family’s shadows from the kitchen arcing across the lawn. It looks like the three of them are moving around now. No doubt my father’s finished his story and my brother and mother are taking the first chance they can to escape.

  I glance over at the alarm clock on my desk. 7:15. Right on time. I turn back towards the dark backyard. For a moment a hole appears in the clouds and a bright ray of moonlight flashes over the lawn. Excitedly, I scan the bushes lining the back fence. Nothing. If he’s out there—and I know he is—he’s well-hidden. Though if all goes according to plan, he won’t stay hidden for long.

  I pull my shirt over my head and drop it to the floor beside me. I look down at my chest. I’m well-past needing to be milked. I’m already leaking. I can see two wet spots on my beige bra. They are slowly spreading outwards. My skin is smooth and tight, swollen with milk.

  Reaching behind me, I unsnap my bra and shrug it from my shoulders, sighing as relief washes over me. It always feels so great when I remove my bra. I cup my breasts in my hand, lifting them an inch or two to measure their heaviness. They are taut between my fingers and tender to the touch. With the bedside lamp illuminating my half-naked frame, I absentmindedly stare out the window while squeezing my breasts. As milk swells out of my nipples and runs down the back of my hands, I groan quietly.

  After a moment, I release myself and reach down to unbutton my pants. I push them off my hips, turning so that my ass is towards the window, bending over as I push my jeans to my feet. I kick my pants off across the room and hook my thumbs into the waistband of my thong. Looking back over my shoulder and biting my lip, I push my thong from my hips, wiggling my ass as I do so. I pause for a moment with loose fabric of my thong still covering my slit. I want to tease him, and in turn, tease myself. Just the thought of him watching and waiting for me to remove my panties is enough to make me shiver with excitement.

  Finally, I push it down and expose myself. My thong drops to the floor and I step out of it. I climb into my bed, my back still to the window, and position myself on all fours, my heavy, milk-laden breasts dangling below me. I slide a hand down my belly and between my legs. I’m soaking wet. With two fingers, I split my lips apart, exposing my pink inner flesh.

  Happy Anniversary , I think, moaning as I slide my finger back and forth over my soaking slit. Tonight , I’m going to give you a present you won’t forget .

  2.

  Jack

  I’m watching long before she even leaves the dinner table. From where I’m standing, I can see her sitting next to her brother. She’s looking particularly juicy tonight, her dark hair pulled back in a loose bun, her shirt so tight over her swollen breasts I’m not sure how she even managed to get it on. Just seeing her is enough to inundate my mind with dirty thoughts.

  Near 7, she pulls out her phone, presumably to check the time. Her father is telling some story, his hands waving excitedly back and forth as the rest of the family listens patiently. No one seems interested. About thirty seconds after putting her phone away, Lanie pushes herself up from the table and excuses herself. When she disappears from the kitchen, I sneak quietly through the bushes to the far end of the backyard. From here I have a straight view into her bedroom. It’s from this exact location I’ve watched her every Friday night for an entire year.

  It’s not long before I see the light in her bedroom switch on, though her curtains are still closed at this point. A few seconds later, she draws them open. As her family gets up in the kitchen and begins to clean the table, she peers out into the backyard, scanning it from one end to the other. I know she’s searching for me.

  I don’t move. This has always been part of our game. Though she knows I’m always watching, I never show myself. In fact, the only time she has seen me watching is the very first time it happened. I had been cleaning my upstairs bedroom when I had happened to glance out the window and see her in her bedroom. As I watched, she began to strip down. Unable to help myself—after all, who would be able to look away from a busty young woman getting naked?—I had gone down to my backyard and climbed over the back fence separating her home from mine. Never in a million years had I thought I would be so brave. But ever since moving to the neighborhood, I had felt this strange connection with Lanie. There was something in the way she looked at me, something that seemed to want to invite me in. It was on this logic I had snuck over the fence, finally determined to act on my impulses (Thank God for alcohol!). Scared shitless, ever so slowly I had crept across the backyard until I had reached her window. By the time I got there she was completely naked and stretched out on her bed. Her legs were spread apart and her hand was hard at work between her legs. Her other hand was massaging her massive breasts, milk streaming out of her nipples (this was the moment I fell in love with lactation). I watched as she worked herself up to an orgasm. Just as she began to come, she had turned her head, her eyes flickering open and meeting mine pressed to the other side of the glass. To my surprise, she had continued fingering herself,
her eyes locked on mine as her orgasm overtook her. Though she seemed surprised, she also acted as though my being there was natural. I half-suspected she had been thinking about me while she masturbated.

  The next morning I found a note under the windshield wiper of my car. What it said was incredible:

  Did you like what you saw? Next Friday stay in the bushes. My father asked later if I had seen anyone in our backyard.

  XOXO

  -L

  Since then, I had watched her every Friday night, though I never came close to the window again. Tonight, like every other night, I am in the bushes directly across from her room. I am no more than twenty-five feet away from her living, breathing body. So close, yet so far.

  Through the window, I watch as Lanie pulls her tight shirt off over her head. Reaching behind her, she unsnaps her bra and draws it away from her chest. Her breasts are swollen, overflowing with milk. Her erect nipples have droplets of sweet cream glistening on their tips. I lick my lips. God, what I wouldn’t give for a taste!

  She turns around and unbuttons her pants. She pushes them off her hips, wriggling out of them until she can manage to kick them away. She’s wearing a black lace thong, her ass round and perky. Hooking her thumbs into her waistband, she bends over and pushes it down, pausing for a moment to tease me before exposing her ass and pussy to me. She climbs up onto her bed on all fours, her backside to me. I can see her swollen breasts dangling between her legs. With two fingers she spreads her juicy labia apart. Even from this distance and despite the dim light of her bedside lamp, I have a straight-on view of her tight, pink hole.

  Holding her lips apart, she slides her middle finger back and forth over her slit. She pushes it inside and begins to pump it in and out. With her other hand she begins to massage her massive breasts, squeezing each until milk is dribbling onto the bedspread below her.

  After a few moments, Lanie adds a second finger to the first. Though I can’t hear her, I know she’s moaning. I can tell from the way her hips are rolling against her hand and her head is thrown back. She pumps her fingers faster, her lips sucking at them as they slide in and out. Unzipping my pants, I draw out my hardened cock and begin to stroke myself, though I’m careful to take it slow. I don’t want to miss the main course of my visual feast.

  Not that I know what that main course is going to be. It changes every week. Over the course of my year watching, I’ve seen Lanie pleasure herself in more ways than I thought possible. Sometimes she uses her fingers; other times it’s her dildo. She keeps a box full of toys in her closet, hidden behind her winter clothes. I know everything inside of it because I bought each and every one for her.

  But I don’t know what’s in store for tonight. All I know is that she’s planned something special. This morning on my way to work I had found a folded note tacked to my front door:

  Happy One Year Anniversary! Can you believe it’s been 52 weeks? Don’t miss tonight! 7 p.m. sharp. I’ve got something special in store for you, you dirty old man…

  XOXO

  -L

  She pumps her fingers faster and faster in and out of her tight hole. Her back arches and her body begins to shake as an orgasm grips her. She squeezes her breast hard, milk spritzing out in a thick stream onto the bedspread. After a year, I still have no idea why she lactates. As far as I can tell, she has never had a child. I want to ask, but I’ve never had a chance to speak to her privately. By day, I’m just the neighbor next door. When I see her, usually with her parents, I give her a nod, though nothing more. The only way I know she recognizes me is by a twinkle in her eye.

  Her pussy tightens around her fingers, clenching and unclenching rhythmically as tremors pass through her creamy flesh. I want nothing more than to run across the lawn and break through her window. I want to push her down on the bed and fuck the living daylights out of her. I want to taste her fresh cream straight from the source. I want to flip her over and hold her body to mine while I take her from behind, pumping and pumping until she’s screaming in ecstasy and coming on my cock.

  Halfway through her orgasm, Lanie pushes herself up from the bed and pulls her fingers from inside of her. Her knees still shaking, she steps over to the window. Her chest is flushed red, her breath ripping through her tiny frame with ragged gasps. She looks out into the yard and slides her soaking fingers into her mouth. Her bubblegum-pink tongue circles over them. When she’s finished sucking them clean, she reaches out and begins to fumble with the window, something she’s never done before.

  What could she possibly be doing?

  3.

  Lanie

  I always come quickly when I know he’s watching. It’s like I can feel the heat from his eyes, his lust, upon me. Whenever I think of him—of his strong well-muscled body; of those piercing blue eyes of his and the 5 o’clock shadow ever-present on his sharp jaw—I can’t help but get excited. He’s such a beautiful man. And to know he’s watching me…MMM, I just can’t get enough.

  Within two minutes my pussy is pulsing around my fingers and fresh juice is dribbling out between my labia. I shiver and moan, biting down on my lip to stifle the sound. I pump my fingers faster. It feels so fucking good. Milk is pouring out of my swollen breasts, the bedspread soaked beneath me.

  Halfway through my orgasm I pull my fingers from my pussy. It takes a herculean amount of effort to stop. It always does when I’m full of milk. As long as I’m still expressing, I’m aroused. It’s been that way ever since I first hit puberty and my breasts starting filling with milk. Sometimes these night sessions last two hours.

  But I have something else in mind for tonight. Pushing myself up from the bed, my body quivering and my knees weak, I make my way to the window. Standing naked before it, I once more peer out into the yard. There’s still no sign of him, not that I expected there’d be. Knowing he’s out there watching my every move, I lick my fingers clean, groaning and rolling my hips as I taste my warm, delicious cream. My mind flickers out across the yard. I picture my beautiful neighbor just feet away from me, his swollen cock in his hand. I know he touches himself while he watches me. I know because he’s mentioned it in the notes he sometimes leaves in the envelopes of money he sends. Those envelopes are how I afford all the nice toys I use to pleasure myself for him.

  I reach out and begin to fumble with the latches on the window. A part of me still can’t believe I’m doing this. When I first started performing for him a year ago, I never thought I’d be doing what I’m about to do. But I can’t stop thinking about him. After a long year, just having him watch doesn’t seem enough. I need more.

  The window finally unlatched, I lift it open, my breasts quivering as my thin arms strain against the heavy glass. I move back to the bed and sit down on the edge, spreading my knees apart and running my fingers up my legs. The inside of my thighs are wet with pussy juice. My stomach is streaked with cream. I lie back against the bed and lift my knees. Raising my head, I look between my legs out at the row of bushes lining the back fence. I press my breasts together with one hand, my fingers playing over my nipples. With my other hand I point out the window. When I’m sure I’ve been seen, I turn my hand over and curl my finger upwards.

  4.

  Jack

  I hold my breath as she opens the window, unsure of what’s happening. For a moment I think she’s going to climb out of the window and rush across the backyard into my waiting arms. Instead she moves back towards the bed and sits down. She spreads her legs apart, her chest still heaving, her overflowing breasts rising and falling. She falls back against the bed and draws her knees up to her chest. She lifts her head and looks out into the dark yard. For an instant her eyes flash over my position in the bushes but she gives no indication of knowing I’m there. Gathering her breasts in her hand, she points out the window with her other. Ever so slowly she turns her hand over and begins to curl her finger upward.

  It takes me a moment to realize what she’s trying to say. She’s inviting me inside.

  I sta
y frozen, my aching cock rigid in my hand, unable to believe that it’s true. That can’t be what she means, can it?

  Lowering her hand, she slides her fingers across her glistening slit, her labia dark purple and swollen. As she pushes her fingers inside, I hear her soft moans for the first time as they carry across the yard. She has the sexiest voice—like a kitten’s—that I’ve ever heard. Her eyes flicker closed. She rolls her nipple between her fingers, gasping sharply as milk spritzes out, arcing above her chest like a geyser. She pumps her fingers faster, her frothy pussy squelching as they slide in and out.

  Still frozen, I reason out the situation. I know there’s no other reason for her to have opened her window. No other reason for her to have pointed towards the bushes. No other reason for her to have turned her hand over and curled her finger upwards. She wants me. She wants me to come inside. This is my surprise. My one-year anniversary surprise.

  My gaze flickers over to the kitchen. Her father is sitting at the table, his eyes turned down to a newspaper. Her mother is sitting quietly knitting. Upstairs, almost directly above Lanie’s room, I can see her brother playing on his computer. If I’m going to get across the yard, I’m going to have to be quick about it.

  When I turn my gaze back to Lanie’s open window, her back is arched and her knees are pressed together. She gasping quietly, though still loud enough for me to hear her clearly. Holding my breath, I listen as she begins to moan my name.

  “Oh Jack…” she groans, “Jack, I want you. Oh God, I want you to fuck me…”