Page 17 of Gaze

I return my finger to my clit and continue to drum on the hardening bundle of nerves, but I wanted more. I wanted to feel full. My mind wanders to the gift from Bite still sitting in the box, I groan at the thought of filling myself with it, it makes my cunt wetter at the mere idea.

Flicking my eyes back to the window I see I am still being watched, her hands in her pockets as she looks up at me. I can see the solid green light of the webcam in my peripheral vision. In a split second the decision is made, I am not even sure I made it or if fate decided for me as I blink and I am already standing at the desk rummaging through the box until my fingers wrap round the stiff solid cock. I pull it out.

I look back at the window. She’s still there, still watching. My need burns deeper; my desperation tightens.

Falling back in the chair I see a small smile cross the woman’s face, before she nods at me to continue. It lights a fire in me, and I do as I am told. I try not to think what a slut I am, that I am deliberately fucking myself for someone to watch.

The green light is still on, unblinking in the corner of my vision.

I slowly start touching myself again, the wetness growing with anticipation. I shuffle, repositioning myself to get a better angle, as I prop one leg up on the window ledge and ease the shaft to my entrance. Messy, needy, desperate - all the words run through my head as I prepare myself.

I feel the pinch as I start to press the bulbous end into me, it's large, possibly the biggest I have ever tried to take, I can feel the stretch as my lips glide over it. I am so wet there is barely any resistance. I roll my head back as I push it into me slowly, my other hand working my clit keeping me on the edge of climax.

I let my eyes flutter down to her; she’s undone her own slacks and has a hand inside them. She’s touching herself. Fuck, she is touching herself watching me. I can't take it, the arousal builds and I frantically work my fingers harder against my clit. The fullness, the desperation, the watching they all combine to tip me over the edge as I feel the climax rush over me. I scream. I don't mean to, but the primal call is falling out my mouth before I have the chance to stop it.

I let the euphoria flow over me before I slowly remove the member from my now swollen pussy. Tossing it back onto the desk I let out a deep sigh, it feels like years since I last used my vocal cords at anything more than a conversational volume - how loud had it been? They now felt as raw as my tender engorged labia.

I look down, I can see her standing there, looking up at me, a smile across her face. Before she turns and retreats into the darkness of her own apartment.

Coming to my senses I notice it’s a lot darker now, twilight is fading and night is taking over - people's lights are switching on and the world around us is coming to life. A stray thought of embarrassment crosses my mind before it's chased away - no one else saw, there was no one looking.

The green light is brighter now the world around it has started to fade. Unblinking it stares at me. She stares at me.

A wave of shame, of nerves, of I don't know what comes over me as I reach down and pull the cable out the wall. The computer dies in an instant - but the green light takes a moment to fade.

Busying myself for the rest of the evening I watch people in their homes as they file in from the day's work. I see slumped shoulders and weary expressions as people start their nightly routines. I watch for hours smoking in my chair as my body slowly returns to normal.

chapter

eighteen

And then there was darkness, everything around me plunged into a black nothingness.

New York was not unused to blackouts especially in extreme weather. Northern parts of the county had lost power for almost a week in January, but this was different. This was the result of the sweltering temperatures and the strain on the grid; I was sure of it. As the electricity disappeared the heat grew closer as if the light was keeping it at bay.

As soon as the power went and the sound of the oscillating fan stopped all I could feel was the intense closeness of the heat. The deep oppressive blanket of sweltering summer that lay over the entire city. Hot, heavy and all consuming.

In the distance I could still see car lights on the street, as people around me screamed in shock as they too were thrown into nothingness. Dogs barked and children cried from across the city.

Slowly my eyes started to acclimate to the moonlight, I see the outline of the buildings. The only light from the car headlamps zipping through the slither of gap between the talk monoliths. Then in the darkness little pricks of light as one after another the window opposite lit up with candles. Miss Torso was first, lighting a series of tea lights on her window frame, her angular face dancing in the light. Next was Mr. Songwriter, a solitary candle on his bedside dully illuminating his room. Soon others too had fought back against the darkness, with a mix of paraffin lamps and candles littering the view, flickering and dancing like Christmas tree lights.

Lastly, I noticed the window I had been trying to avoid, the one I always try and save for last. The one that last time I looked at it, was looking back at me. It was still in deep darkness, obscuring its secrets from me. I tore my eyes away, choosing to focus on the windows with light. I light a cigarette, the match like a flash bang of light illuminated my world for a fraction of a second before returning me to obscurity. The couple across had placed a camping lamp on the table and were sitting around it playing cards, a welcome change from their normal TV habits. A family further down had put their sleeping children on the couch as they all sheltered in one room by single candlelight.

Mr. Songwriter holds my attention the longest as he continues to write a melody on his silenced electric guitar, strumming and picking notes out only he could hear and writing them down in his notebook, his face inches from the page. It was mesmerizing to watch him work.

A child I often saw playing alone in the grass was in one of the ground floor apartments bent over a small screen illuminating their face like a demonic creature. They must have one of the latest handheld consoles that kept being advertised to me in magazines and TV ads, the promise of battery powered escapism.

Miss Torso had the most illumination, I feel I shouldn’t be surprised at her candle collection, I wonder how they smell, floral I imagine. As she spent her time tidying her messy apartment, picking up clothes and hanging them in her closet. It was rhythmic watching the repetitive motion over and over. Once she had satisfied her urge for cleanliness, she wrapped herself in a light silk robe and went round the room blowing out her candles before she stretched out on the bed and disappeared into the darkness.

One by one the windows around me plunged into darkness and my watch ended.

The rancid heat was sticking to everything; it was as if the darkness gave the oppressive heat permission to push in closer. I could feel the pores all across my body open as it drowned in its own sheen of sweat. The stillness of the air suffocating against my skin without the tepid breath of the fan.

I gave up and went to bed, using my hand to guide me along the wall to the bedroom door. Peeling off my clothes was like shedding a layer of my skin, it took with it some of the stickiness but none of the heat. Any hope I had for a cool feeling of cloth against my skin evaporated when my back touched the bedsheets. In that moment I thought I would never feel anything cool again, that I had forgotten what any breeze felt like against my skin.

It was impossible to sleep, the fitful nights I had had now felt like a lavish extravagance

as I stare into the unmoving darkness of my apartment ceiling. The silence, the stillness was unnerving, the city was never this still, never this dark and no one knew what to do with it.