By The Window

By The Window

An erotic story by Cara Sutra

He didn’t care. He was going to take me right then and there, in front of the window and he didn’t care who could see.

The sunlight of late afternoon poured into the lounge, like a floodlit stadium that he had decided would be the location for his sport. I, trapped in the spotlight, had no say in the matter.

House deserted, us two alone. Moments ago, I was tidying up the room debris and clutter, short dress flouncing with every movement and bend. Sheer tights worn subconsciously to tease, the hint of flesh beneath. Him behind, on the sofa, working… or so I’d thought.

By The Window - An Erotic Story by Cara SutraI’d been bending to pick up yet another scrap of paper – dozens of them mysteriously adorned every square metre of carpet it seemed – when suddenly everything came to a juddering halt, with the sensation of one finger travelling up the inside of my thigh from behind.

“You do know it’s terribly unfair to tease me with such a view.”

I squeaked and stood bolt upright, paper still clutched in my hand.

“…um… I don’t know.. I mean, what? I’m tidying up!” I stuttered, attempting for a ‘righteous indignation’ rather than a ‘captured red-handed’ tone.

His mouth whispered hot against my ear.

“Right. So you definitely haven’t been giving me sneak previews of that sodden area right HERE,” he said firmly, ending with a soul shatteringly erotic grip as his hand swiftly and expertly moved upwards to grab me, thumb pressing against my anus, while at the front his middle two fingers pressed hard against my throbbing clit.

I made a noise which was definitely somewhere between a purr, a yelp and a growl, all rolled into one pitiful exclamation of sexual need.

That was enough for him. His hand deftly left my, by now, aching pussy and I felt it again on the back of my neck. His fingers curled around my soft skin there, nails digging in slightly to the side, underneath my long dark tresses.

“Over to the window, slut. I know what you need.”

I padded softly over the carpet, dropping the paper, to the clear area in front of the low set bay window. No curtains, no nets. Just a clear, crystal clean set of window panes which looked out to a bunch of other houses in the close. I was sure I could see the design on the plates on the table, in the house across the way. I gulped, heart racing, suddenly overcome with fear.

They’d see. They’d see everything. Perhaps he was just going to spank my bottom. Lightly. With my clothes on.

Was he in the habit of bluffing? No. Not at all.


Of course, he knows me better than I know myself. He knew all of this was going through my head and even worse, it amused him. He found my predicament funny and arousing. I knew him well enough that he would be absolutely rock solid now, knowing I was petrified about what could happen, what was going to happen, what he was going to make certain would happen.

Sadistic bastard. My knickers were dripping.

“Take off your clothes. All of them.”

The world spun. He was still gripping me by the neck and it was a good job. I’m sure I would have fainted right then and there if not.

Trying to recover as fast as possible and avoid any unnecessary punishment, I dizzily tried to comply. I didn’t really know why, all I knew was that he would make it ok. Hopefully.

He let go of my neck as I bent to peel down the tights, his hand moving down my body, deliberately over the curve of my breast, the cinch of my waist and the flare of my thigh. Fingers holding me still there as I bent forwards to remove the tights from underneath my feet, first one foot, then shakily, the other.

I dropped them by the side, head still a daze.

“This too, slut,” he growled, tugging at the hem of the short dress, which I still wasn’t sure if I regretted wearing that morning or not.

With an inward, steadying deep sigh, I crossed my arms and tugged the dress upwards, pulling it over my head, over my hair and dropping it to the floor on top of the tights.

He murmured his approval as he kissed my neck. I felt slightly warmed by this, yet absolutely horrified that I was now in front of the window, in front of the whole close, standing in just my bra and knickers. They weren’t even matching.

I hadn’t had the courage to look out of the window again yet. I stared at the floor, where the carpet pattern was a mere blur.

“You’re not finished though, are you slut?”

He’s really going through with this then. Everything. Completely naked. In front of the window, for anyone to see. At any moment someone could walk past, or worse, walk up the path to the door.

A new layer of fear descended. I’d never had to do anything this hard before. Anything this petrifying. Anything this fucking sexy. I could feel the juices in a pool sliding against my puffy labia, through which I was certain the insistent throb of my clit would be causing ripples.

How can something so terrifying be so erotic? It didn’t make sense. But then, it didn’t have to. It just was. Who was I to question…

Hands trembling, brain disbelieving of the actions, my fingers undid the bra clasp and let it fall off my arms to the floor below. I couldn’t look up at all now. My hair fell around my face in a semi shield, but it wasn’t by any means enough.

Breasts open to the air. In the lounge, not in the secure privacy of bed in the black of night with everyone asleep. Very much in the mid afternoon, targeted by the cursed sunlight, on a stage for the world to see.

My nipples stood to attention, the traitorous fuckers.

I still had one more item to remove.

Squeezing my eyes closed now, feeling his steadying breath on my neck as his hands held my waist from behind me, I looped my fingers into the waist band of my knickers.

A deep breath and a prayer to whoever that he knew what he was doing, and then I was moving them downwards, removing them down an endless path of thighs, knees, calves and ankles. They eventually stopped at the floor of course, pooled around my ankles, arousal strings connecting my intimate lips to my thighs where the slippery juices had been so cruelly and mercilessly parted from hidden view.

I stepped out of the knickers and kicked them gently aside with my toes.

He didn’t let go of me the entire time.

“Good girl. I know that was hard.”

Of course it was hard, you evil bastard, I am now completely naked for the world to see. I hope you are happy.

I merely gulped in response and didn’t take my eyes off one particular swirl in the carpet.

My hands were placed on the ledge in front of me, the small of my back pushed down. Made to go to my knees in front of the window. What is he going to do, a small voice at the back of my mind wondered. Shut up, I shouted over it. I’m not really here. La-la-la-la…

Oh but you are. And this is really happening. And you’re enjoying it, you filthy whore.

I heard one of my favourite sounds in the whole world, his belt being unbuckled, and swishing through the loops as he removes it. A spanking, then?

The zip undone.

His fingers, seeking me. They don’t have to probe between my creamy flesh for long before I open myself up for him, entrance slick and insides eagerly awaiting him.

His tip nuzzling me there. One hand on my waist, one wrapping around my long hair, yanking my head up so I have no choice but to face reality.

He took me by the window, and he didn’t care.


by the window erotic short story

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