Excerpt of Ebony Butterfly I

For a few seconds, nothing was heard but the muffled sound of the wind chimes.
     "You put the chimes out," he said, as casually as he'd mentioned the full moon earlier.

     At long last, she replied a bit breathlessly, "Don't say anything, okay? Just let me do it."

     "No." The single words sounded deeper than she remembered, gruffer.

     "No?" "You are always brave in your fantasies. Be brave now. Let it be just like your dreams. Be the woman you write about."
     She turned towards the revealing curtain that allowed him to look into her apartment. Even without her binoculars, she could see him watching her.
     "Yes, let me watch," he coaxed. "You know you want me to."
     "I can't believe I'm doing this..."
     He paused. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Do you want to call it off?"
     Her own hesitation spoke volumes. Her whispered reply even more. "No."
      He exhaled, as if he'd been unsure of the outcome. "Then...show me what it was that you were dreaming of."
     She sank into the comfortable couch, feeling the silk robe caress as it rearranged around her. Even in the dividing distance, she could feel his gaze on her, everywhere.
     "Don't be nervous. Relax. Lean you head back and relax. This is your fantasy...live it."
     The cognac made it easy, but the hint of passion in his voice firmed her resolve. Without him saying another word, she shifted her hips and began to remove her panties.
     "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice becoming thick with appreciation. "You have very sexy legs...Very sexy.."
     She undid the tie of her purple robe, letting gravity tug the edges ever so slightly apart. Her breasts remained hidden, but the robe revealed her belly button and the entire length of her legs. His breathing changed, becoming rougher.
     Sharonda felt like smiling at the sudden sensual power she commanded. "You are a pervert."
     "So, torture me," he challenged.
     She shifted slightly and the robe opened a bit wider. "Like that?"
     "Spread your thighs a bit more...More...Yes...Better yet, rest your left leg on the arm rest."
     She obeyed. For almost a full minute, all she could hear was the reckless beating of her heart and the slow, controlled rhythm of his aroused breathing. The headiness was more than cognac, more than any foreplay in the past.
     "Touch yourself," he whispered.
     It seemed surreal already, with him whispering over the phone, her head leaning against he headrest. Yet, she was incredibly aroused, knowing she was living out one of her most private fantasies.
     Feeling wanton, she moved her hand slowly over her belly, her thighs, her pubic hair, until her fingers were touching her clitoris. With personal familiarity, she moved her fingers over the sensitive nub, over to the swollen lips of labia closing her eyes to feel the trace of her finger pads. She dipped her fingers into the wet folds of her sex and stroked the wetness upward, swirling it over her clit.
     "Right there...yes, now dip inside...yeah, babe...stroke it, just like that..." His breathless voice sounded as if he was lurking in the nearby shadows.
     "Again."
     She complied, licking her dry lips and fondling the swollen labia until her fingers were knuckle-deep inside the wet, moist passage. Moments passed when all that was heard was the uneven breathing, the low mutters of approval and the quiet slick noises of her wet fingers as they played into her wetness.
      "Fuck." He uttered the word like a sacred exclamation, involuntarily, but she decided to take it as a request and began to move her fingers in a plunge-and-withdrawing tempo that matched the churn of her hips.
     "Oh," she groaned, her mind absorbed in the single task of masturbation. She moved a hand over the robe to her breast, caressing and squeezing the tight nipple, the phone barely nestling between the couch and her ear. Her panting grew, her occasional moans growing with the rush of pleasure.
     "Put the phone closer to your fingers," James said into her ear, his voice filled with sexual urgency. "I want to hear more..."
     She slipped the phone down until it was as close to her fingers as possible. Deliberately, she began to harden the motion of her thrusts, making them harder, pushing, rubbing and stroking the juicy-slick source of her arousal. The phone trembled in her hand as the pleasure built to the point where she could hardly stand it.
     "Oh! Oh! Umh!" She cried out, arching her back and bucking her hips into her hand.
     "J-James..." The tremors rolled over her in waves, until at last she lay limp and satisfied, feeling the final ripples of ecstasy on her fingers. Belatedly, she realized that the phone was still on, nesting on her inner thigh. Several seconds passed before she picked it up and brought it to her ear, too exhausted to feel embarrassed or prudish.
     "Thank you," James said, breathing hard. By the tone of his voice, he hadn't found his own release. "That was absolutely, unbelievably, beautiful."
     "Can I watch you?" she blurted before common sense intervened. She opened her eyes and stared at the unclear picture of him across the distance to his apartment.
"Yes," he said without any hesitation whatsoever.
Feeling the first signs of renewed energy, she wiped her fingers, then reached for the binoculars nearby and focused them into his apartment. A lamp haloed him with soft light where he sat on his couch. His binoculars were trained on her, but they lowered and he slowly rested his head back, the phone by his ear. He'd removed his jacket, but he was still wearing his stark white shirt and black trousers. The shirt had been unbuttoned, the tie skewed and the zipper of his trousers was undone. His long, thick, black erection thrust upward in his solid grip. At the base of his thick stalk, his testicles looked bulbous and tight.
     "Hmmm, yes," she murmured as he watched his hand stroke his length with a familiar touch, the soft hush sounds of his shirt marking the movements. With eyes shut, he spoke into the phone.
     "Are you watching?"
     Hell yes!
     "Nice grip. Impressive." His panting was getting harder, his strokes becoming faster.
     "Did you masturbate when you read my diary?" she whispered.
      He licked his lips, the sound becoming intimate over the phone.
     "Yes." Sharonda could see the pre-cum gleaming at the tip of his penis and she swallowed, wondering if she'd truly ever admired a penis before.
     "You're so thick...and long," she admitted, hearing his groan as he worked his long-fingered hand over his cock, back and forth, back and forth.
     His reply was more of a hiss as he stroked himself twice more, barely holding back the shudder that sent his white ejaculation squirting in the air, landing mostly on his tie.
     His grunts sounded like half-bitten words. When his hand finally rested, he breathed a tremulous sigh. She felt it clear over the phone wires. He lifted his head, a small smile playing on his lips.
     "Thank you," she whispered.