The Happy Ending Voyeur

I knocked on the door again. “Steven?” I call out to an apparently empty apartment. I couldn’t help but pout. Here I was with surprise churros and my boyfriend was nowhere to be found. I tapped my foot and huffed. I didn’t want to just leave them on the doorknob for him. What if someone took my delicious gift? I grasped the knob, turned it, and, surprisingly, it yielded. How irresponsible of him, I chided as I closed the door behind me, just leaving his door unlocked for any maniac to enter.

I entered his well-lit apartment. I placed the bag of churros on his kitchen table and wandered through his inner sanctum alone, quite enjoying my minor act of voyeurism. There was the couch on which we cuddled to watch movies together, my head resting on his shoulder, his arm holding me closely against him. Here was his bathroom, where he showered and presumably furiously masturbated to memories of me every morning. And here was his bedroom… I took a flying leap onto his covers and inhaled deeply, breathing in Steven’s aroma.

A book I didn’t recognize sat on his nightstand. I picked it up. Consider the Fork, its title proclaimed it to be. I glanced through a bit of it: a history of cooking. How like him, history and cooking together in one book. I felt a tinge of disappointment at not having found it for him myself. At least that strawberry slicer I had gotten for him had already been a success. My mouth watered at the thought of the icebox cake we had made together, clad only in aprons, and then eaten together wearing even less, using our bodies as plates, using our hands to feed each other and our tongues to clean each other…

Voices. I started out of my reverie. Steven was home! I decided to surprise him. I placed the book where I had found it and crept towards his bedroom door.

But there was more than one voice outside the apartment. A woman’s, too. My eyes narrowed. Who was this bitch? As the door swung open I pulled back to avoid detection.

“-again for coming over on such short notice, Rose,” Steven said.

“No problem,” replied the mysterious Rose, with a slight Chinese accent. “Thank you for carrying the table. I could have gotten that.”

“No, no, I insist.” Their voices were drawing closer to the bedroom. Where could I hide? Under the bed? No, I wanted to be able to see them. His closet? The louvered doors were perfect: I could peer through the slats. I snuck in and closed the door behind me, standing between a pair of cargo pants and a Majora’s Mask t-shirt. With my face against the door, I had an excellent view of the room.

A moment later, the two of them walked in, Steven carrying a bulky item while Rose had only a large, cloth bag. He set it down on the carpet and as the two of them got it upright, I realized it was a massage table. I smiled. That’s right, he had mentioned getting massages before. I was surprised she did house calls. I was surprised anyone did house calls. Hadn’t people stopped doing that forever ago? She must be a pretty good masseuse.

Once the table was upright and made, Rose told Steven, “I’ll let you get undressed. Just call for me when you’re ready.”

“Sure thing.” She left the room. Steven began undressing as I bit my lip. Part of me knew that I should just come out now before my situation got any more precarious, reveal myself, explain what had happened, and continue with my day. But another part of me, the part of me between my thighs that currently had its arm wrapped around my brain, cajoling it into agreement, wondered just how often I would get a chance to watch my boyfriend get an erotic massage, to enjoy this sort of intimate scenario as a secret witness. Could I really just toss aside this serendipitous situation over a puny moral scruple or two? Wouldn’t it be ungrateful to deny what the universe had so graciously granted me? And if I ever changed my mind, I could just turn away. There really wasn’t any downside to continuing to watch.

My teeth tingled as I watched Steven undress, the casual way he pulled up his shirt over his broad, hairy chest. How he lowered his pants and boxers to the ground, unaware he was being watched, his cock still flaccid, a tiny thing almost hidden by his pubes, his balls hanging beneath. I had to wonder: had I ever seen it like that before? Not satiated and exhausted after emptying itself into me, but simply and innocently flaccid? No, I didn’t think I had. By the time I got to it, it was already hard and erect, irresistible and impossible to deny. Seeing it like this, as something as natural and normal as his hand or ear…I bit my lip. I already felt my cunt warming, aroused by the excitement of spying on his casual nudity. I kept my eyes on that adorable member until he had laid face-down on the table and covered himself with a thin, white sheet that did nothing to hide the wonderful curve of his ass.

“I’m ready,” he announced. I mentally agreed.

Rose entered shortly after. The table was angled so that I had an excellent side-on view of Steven. She adjusted the sheet before rubbing his body through it, her hands moving smoothly and with purpose. From their earlier conversation, they seemed familiar with each other. How many times had this other woman seen my boyfriend naked? Touched his body? Just where had her hands wandered? I took the chance to observe her.

She looked about forty, but it was clear she kept herself in good shape. Even from the closet, I could tell her arms were well-toned and muscular. She was Chinese, as I expected, which wasn’t hugely surprising. Steven definitely had a type… Short, black hair, red lipstick, and her face had a warm plumpness to it without being fat. But what stood out most was her chest.

All I could do was look down at my own barely-there breasts in envy at the sight of her knockers. As she leaned down to massage his lower back, her full, heavy breasts rested comfortably on Steven’s back. It would be impossible for him not to feel their soft pressure against him. I knew Steven said he preferred a petite chest, but I hadn’t yet met the man who would turn down an enormous rack. Did he secretly wish I had tits like that? I felt an odd rush of exhilaration rush through me the thought of Steven looking at my chest and imagining hers instead.

Rose pulled back the sheet down to his ass, pumped some oil into her hands from a bottle at her waist, and continued, standing near his head as she massaged his shoulders and back. Her hand gripped his neck and rhythmically squeezed it, working away his stress and knots. From time to time he moaned, unable to keep quiet. She climbed onto the table and straddled his head, her crotch just inches above him. I reached a hand under my bra and started to touch myself, my nipples already hard. This other woman kept caressing his naked full body, his skin shimmering with oil.

Once she had finished with his back, she moved to the side of the table and pulled the sheet off of him entirely. I had to suppress a gasp. My boyfriend lay there totally naked in front of her. And yet she seemed completely and professionally uninterested in my hunk’s body. Or was she just good at hiding her lewd desires? She squirted more oil into her hands and began to massage his legs, wrapping her hands around his thighs, stroking his calves and buttocks. Her hands moved farther and farther up his thighs each time. There was no way she wasn’t brushing up against his balls. “Is this okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” Steven lazily sighed. “That feels amazing.” He was enjoying it… I swallowed deeply. Maybe she was just thorough… After all, I couldn’t actually see what was happening. Maybe she was avoiding his balls entirely and I was just being paranoid. But I knew she had to have a good view of them. What was she thinking? Was she desensitized? Was he just an asexual slab of meat to her? Or was she filled with lust, trying to resist the temptation to just reach between his legs and squeeze?

I watched as she repeated the same motions on his other leg. “Turn over, please,” she instructed. Without a word, he did so. The sheet stayed where it was, which is to say, nowhere near his nude body. Steven remained naked and exposed, his cock completely on display and, I couldn’t help but notice, comfortably tumescent. I focused hard on controlling my breathing, keeping myself from panting and exposing myself, forcing myself to breathe in long, slow breaths as I caressed my breasts, rubbing my nipples.

Just how far was this masseuse going to go with my boyfriend? Was that a lascivious glance at his cock? Or just a coincidental look? I could feel the warm moistness of my panties as she stood over his head and massaged his scalp and face, such an intimate act from a professional, her fingers tracing his nose and cheeks and eyebrows. Her hands lingered on his Guevara-esque beard. “I like your beard,” she commented, echoing my own feelings. “Very manly.”

“Thank you,” he replied, smiling. Her hands rested on his cheeks for an extra moment or two before she pulled them away. Another serving of oil, and her hands were on his chest, thick with hair. She started with his pecs, her fingers on his nipples, making slow circles. Then she moved to his abdomen. She made long, patient strokes all the way down his stomach, her fingertips stopping right as they reached his dark pubic hair. I inhaled deeply, watching just how close she was coming, how his cock twitched each time she almost touched his awakening cock. Would she grasp it, stroke it, bring him to orgasm while I watched?

She reached down further than she had before, her hands on either side of his shaft. Her breasts lowered until they rested comfortably on my boyfriend’s face, threatening to smother him. If her tits were telescopes, he’d be looking at Mars. I could only stare as Rose gave my Steven a sensation I never could. “You have a very nice chest,” Rose said.

“Thank you. So do you,” Steven replied, with a somewhat muffled chuckle.

Too soon, she straightened herself and moved onto his arms. She sat on the table next to his head, as though she were his girlfriend instead of me. With one hand, she stroked his arms, while the other held his hand against her, his palm cupping her right breast. The bastard squeezed, clearly enjoying the sensation. He massaged her breast slowly, his pattern familiar. His cock began to rise, pulsating as it grew bigger and thicker. Rose moaned softly. “Steven,” she gently chided him, but did nothing to stop his attention. “Do you want to see them?” she asked.

“Yeah…”

She released his arm and stood up. I stared, eyes unblinking, as Rose removed her shirt. She reached behind her back and undid her bra, allowing it to fall to the floor, her breasts hanging free, even larger than I had first assumed, large and pendulous, her nipples brown and hard and thick. Steven’s attention was fixated on them. “Is this okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” he nodded.

She grinned. “Good.” She moved to the other side of his table to massage his other arm, blocking my view of what was happening. But from her little squeaks and moans, and the way Steven’s cock was now rock hard, it was obvious what was happening: my boyfriend was groping his masseuse’s tits, rubbing her breasts just feet away from me as though I didn’t exist.

“They’re perfect,” Steven said, his compliment filling me with a surprising lust. It stung, it cut…but I craved to hear more. I wanted to hear him lavish them with praise, to tell Rose just how much bigger and better hers were than mine. My breasts weren’t big enough for him. Hers were. Her full body could satisfy his urges better than mine and he was taking full advantage of her presence. It was impossible to deny. His trembling cock was proof enough of his arousal.

I reached into my panties. I couldn’t believe how soaked my pussy was. I slipped a finger between my smooth, soft lips and stroked up and down, teasing my clit, stifling any moans that would reveal me and end my wonderful, private show.

Rose walked towards the end of the table. She crawled onto the table, kneeling between his thighs, one of her hands on each of them. Steven stared at her chest as she caressed his inner thighs, her hands sliding deliberately past his engorged manhood, stroking his stomach, his hips, his legs, her arms dancing around his full body as she ignored his desperation entirely, her wrists accidentally brushing against his cock from time to time, as though she didn’t even see it, but refusing to give him any relief. My slick fingers rubbed my clit, my hand squeezed my pebble-hard nipple as I stared entranced. How could she resist the urge to stroke him? To take him into her mouth and feel him explode between her lips?

Her hands drew close to her prize. They dived down between his thighs as Steven groaned. She was fondling something, and I had a pretty good idea of what. One hand emerged and she lightly grazed her nails against the length of this thick, girthy cock. It trembled, ready to cum. “Is this okay?” Rose whispered.

“Yes,” he managed to gasp. It took me a moment to realize I had whispered the same thing. Her hand firmly grasped his shaft, slowly pumping it up and down as it glistened with oil. My fingers dove deep inside of me, penetrating my hot, wet warmth. A pleasurable heat grew inside my core as I watched Rose stroke my boyfriend’s cock, as I heard him grunt and groan, as she watched him, amused at his helpless reactions.

“Your cock is very handsome. You’re so big and thick. Does this feel good?” Steven could only nod. “Good,” she replied. Her hand moved torturously slow. She would give him a stroke or two and then release, glide her fingertips around and up his shaft and head, then return her grip, only to repeat the process again. Steven’s hands gripped the table, his hips bucking forcefully, trying to get just one moment more of a proper handjob out of Rose before she took away her hand yet again. A dewdrop of precum sparkled in the light at the very tip of his cock.

A well-known moan emerged from Steven’s lips. My fingers pumped harder and faster. Rose obviously knew his full body as well as I did. Maybe better. “Are you cumming already?” she teased. “So soon? Can’t you last any longer?” He shook his head ‘no.’ “Oh, alright,” she conceded, clearly recognizing the impossibility of him lasting one more second against her. She pulled her hair back and bent down. My jaw dropped as I watched my boyfriend’s cock vanish entirely between her red lips, Rose’s hands on his thighs.

She moaned in delight. I could only imagine how he felt throbbing inside of her mouth. My knees went weak. I had to brace myself against the closet wall just to stay standing, to ensure I didn’t miss a second of what was happening. My swollen lips were dripping wet. Pleasure was building in pressure inside of me, concentrating inside my cunt, ready to explode outwards. Steven moaned. “I’m cumming!” His body quivered and shook. Rose’s lips stayed wrapped around his shaft and he grunted and orgasmed, his cum gushing into her mouth, unseen. How I wished that was my mouth he was exploding into, yet at the same time I knew she deserved that prize, earned through her hard work and by virtue of her superior breasts.

My body couldn’t last any longer. I jammed my wrist into my mouth and bit down hard to stop myself from crying out, from screaming as I had the strongest happy ending of my life watching my boyfriend cum inside another woman’s tight, warm mouth. I shivered and fell to my knees, waves of ecstasy flooding through me. My boyfriend had given another woman his orgasm, his cum, and I had just watched him as he climaxed with her, as she had found herself unable to resist him and had finally given in and given him the relief he so badly needed. My full body tensed as I shivered, curled up in a ball, helpless against my body’s reaction. Slowly, the intense pleasure subsided, and I had control of my body once more.

I looked back up through the slots. Rose still had his cock in her mouth, but as I watched, she raised her head, saliva linking her lips to his satiated, wilting cock. She looked down at the fruits of her labor and smirked, wiping her mouth clean with her hand. My lover’s cum now sat inside her stomach. She’d carry around a part of him inside her all day long, a part of him denied to me. “Mmmm, delicious…all finished?” she asked Steven.

“Yeah…that was incredible, Rose,” he gushed. “You’re amazing, as always.”

“I know,” she replied. She looked towards the closet. My heart leapt. Had she heard me? Was she going to expose me?

But she returned her gaze to Steven. She stood up and put her top back on, finally hiding her obscenely large tits. The two of them made small talk as Steven got dressed and they folded her table back up. The two left the room. I wiped my hand off on my skirt and got myself ready to escape. Once I heard the front door open and close, I left the closet and went to the front door. I pressed my ear against it and couldn’t hear anything, but I waited a few moments. I hadn’t seen them when I had first arrived, so I knew her car had to be around the back of the building. I opened the door and peeked out. The coast was clear.

I stepped outside and waited, looking around for Steven. Once I saw him, I waved. He jogged towards me and gave me a kiss on the lips, his recently pleased cock pressing against me. I couldn’t help but picture him releasing his load into Rose’s mouth as he hugged me tightly, the hands that had so recently been fondling her tits now pressed lightly against the small of my back. “There you are! I was wondering if you were out. What were you doing?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could fake.

“Oh, just had to take out the trash,” he lied as he opened the door. “Were you waiting long?”

“No, I just got here.” We walked into the apartment. I couldn’t wait to get him in the bedroom. I wanted him so badly, I craved him, I needed his next orgasm all for myself, all for me, I needed that proof that I still belonged to him.

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah?”

Steven held up the bag of churros. “Do you know where these came from?”

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