Date: 6/7/2016, Categories: Exhibitionism, Author: Adagio, Source: LushStories
The Mayfair area has homes inspired by its namesake in London, England, and has no immediate street access, as it is a "walking court" with a green area instead of a street. It's enclosed brick walls, hidden by ivy vines have defied time. The facades of the old Victorians homes have changed very little as the decades and seasons have passed. There is a four block area bordering Central Park, where old money still dwells. The sidewalks, lined with tall old elms and oaks, create a canopy away from the summer sun. At night, the moon is lost behind the leaves of the warm seasons. I had just recently moved into the "old town," where the city boasts of over seventeen hundred restored homes and buildings. I had given up my military stripes and had given several years to a failed marriage. I opened up a used bookshop between a chiropractor and an attorney's office. I had remodeled the second floor into a comfortable small bachelor's quarter. I was feeling comfortable in my shoes, yet I had been having ongoing dreams at night; dreams of romance and sensuality. I was startled awake by a wetness in my knickers. I lowered them and my cock emancipated itself, as I stroked the head. My balls scrunched up beneath, as if in a knapsack. I could vision in my mind being watched as I made myself moan with ecstasy. Twitching, my cock jerked, as I felt a burst of creamy cum. The pulsations drove the wheels of my nocturnal thoughts. I breathed heavily, as my orgasm eased. I removed the silk ... panties and placed them back in a drawer. I hoped she would not notice and would wear them soon. "Teeki! Where are you?" I'm content most of the time with my life's course but have desires nonetheless. It was approaching three in the morning when most people nestle in their beds, but I couldn't return to sleep. I rose, showered and dressed. With a Styrofoam cup of coffee, I decided to discover the surrounding area. Twenty minutes later, I was striding down a sidewalk, with only a shadow of a cat crossing before me. I assumed it was a cat, as the moon shed no light behind a cloudy quilt. I had just walked past an abbey, where Matins could be heard in cloistered whispers. Next to the old building was a cemetery. The heavy humidity appeared as if a spiritual aspiration had rained over the fallen stones. Something appeared of human shape, moving about the granite. It was pure dark, darker than the night. It had no distinguishable gender as it hurried past me. I felt embarrassed, thinking my imagination was getting the better of me. I stopped in front of an old brownstone as I thought I heard the hinges on the gate squeak. A lawn sprinkler was trying to give life to the brown dying summer grass. The daytime temperatures were scorching the foliage of Savannah. I heard music coming from an open window on the left side of the house. Someone was seeking a non-existent breeze. They were playing the music of Enrico Caruso. The sound was anemic and scratchy as if being played on an old-style ...