Mr. Jones was in front of their bedroom window kissing on his wife’s neck. I felt a sudden guilt, almost like when Mr. Jones caught me peering through his window last night. At the same time, I couldn’t stop watching. I was drawn in like a magnet unable to take my eyes off of what was unfolding.
He explored her neck with passion as it fell back in ecstasy. She bit her smiling bottom lip, raking her hands in his hair. I could tell she loved when he did that, like it was one of her favorite parts of foreplay. And he knew just what to do, exactly what to do.
His hands found her black lace panties under her knee length, beige frill skirt while he continued devouring her neck. He traveled to the opposite side of it, continuing to massage her ass. After a few minutes, they shared a passionate kiss–a kiss I haven’t experienced in I don’t know, probably years. She hungrily bit his bottom lip, him returning the favor by biting her upper one. I was growing hot, and funnily I could no longer feel the fifty-degree winds that usually blew through the window.
He began to unbutton her white top that was tucked into her skirt. Once he reached the last button, he slid the sleeves of her shirt down slightly, exposing her shoulders. He took his mouth to her chest, tending to her breasts. Her hands remained on his head, agreeing with all his movements. I could feel the sensation from afar like I was in the room receiving the special treatment. I was almost envious but intrigued. They had my eyes glued to the affair.
After the breast action, Mrs. Jones fell to her knees and unbuttoned his trousers, unzipping him with her mouth. Rather impressive, I thought. I’ll have to try that. He sprung out like a jack-in-the-box and she took him into her mouth–all of him. She was going at it like she was in a race against time, determined to meet her goal of making him cum. He took one of her breasts in his hand, throwing his head back in enjoyment.
I drew my head closer to my window’s screen, zooming in my sight on what might possibly come next. As I continued to watch Mrs. Jones taking in Mr. Jones, I realized something–nothing is what it seems. The prim and proper, quiet “Jones’s” definitely had a side to them that they kept hidden from the world. While I uncovered this about them, I also uncovered something surprising from myself–that my curiosity ran deeper than my awareness–that I had a deeper hunger and yearning that I wasn’t consciously aware of. I still wondered what made them so experimental today. This seemed random and completely out of their order.
Mrs. Jones stood up and Mr. Jones grabbed her hand taking her out of sight. What was happening? What was next on their list of “events”? A few minutes later, Mrs. Jones walked past the window wrapped in a crème bath towel. I assumed she was headed to the shower to freshen up to finish what they started. Then Mr. Jones appeared, dressed in a light grey robe. Yea, they were definitely just getting started. He turned around facing the window, lifting his arms to close the curtains. Here we were, making eye contact again, my mouth cracked open. I was again frozen in place, in acceptance of my inability to move. He cracked that warm, comforting smile of his, winking at me.