Everybody’s Watching (Part 3 – Something More)

Caty knew they were playing a game, almost a power game as well as a sexual one. All sex was about power, really, whether it was about the power of domination or the power of love. She wondered if the couples out there all over England, doing it in public, were they doing it at least in part because of the power they were exerting over their audience? You just couldn’t look away.

She loved that they were in his apartment, camera recording themselves. She loved knowing the reason they’d met was to document sex, to document public sex, and now they were documenting their own. 

Her boss would be pleased. At last, she was offering that requested a personal take on this so-called cultural phenomena.

And most of all she loved that she was with James. He looked delicious and and…she didn’t think she could ever have enough of him. 

“Tell me,” she said to James, and she certainly wasn’t looking away for a second. “Tell me what you do.”

“Usually I start by looking through, you know, a certain kind of magazine. Or watching a certain kind of movie.”

“A movie like this?” she asked, stepping to the side of the camera, flashing her breasts at him. 

“Hike up your skirt,” he suggested.

She did so, rolling it up at the waist, affording him a view of her twisted, oh-so-wet panties.

She peeled her panties down to mid-thigh, left them binding her there. Seeing him watching her, she felt as if her clit was dripping.

He unzipped his fly, pulled his enormous penis from his jeans. It was so enormous that she could not have imagined how he could’ve contained it a second longer. She could see the tip glistening already, he was ready to burst.

“Touch yourself,” she told him, “go on.”

“I’m going to be a fucking fountain,” he warned her, “spray it all over the room.”

“Yes,” she breathed, “do.”

He rubbed himself with both palms, then placed his cock squarely in one hand and tugged at himself roughly, watching her the whole time, his eyes dark and gleaming. “I’ve got to touch you,” he said, “have to touch you, I -”

“I’ll touch myself,” she said, although she wanted, she so wanted, to just walk across to that bed and climb on that enormous, glistening cock. Instead she moved closer to him, closer but still out of his reach, and she put her fingers inside herself again, felt herself immediately spurt and shudder, and as she convulsed, he was convulsing too, with a deep groan, and truly, just as he’d predicted, his cum shot out all over the floor. He fell back on the bed, gasping.

Only then did she move over to him, slowly, because of the way her panties were constricting her thighs. She knelt on the bed and licked the last of the cum dripping from his cock. She could feel him twitch and respond beneath her tongue; she could taste more salty drops quivering from him.

When he’d quivered his last, she lifted her mouth away.

“Next time,” she said, “you should cum all over me. And then cum in me. Or the other way around. And definitely both.”

He was already hard again, and pulling her down on top of him. 

“What do you take me for,” he groaned.

She ran her fingers lightly along his cock, making him twitch. “I take you for insatiable. Just like me.” And delicious.


She was wide open and loose and ready, and apparently Caty was absolutely correct about his insatiability. She had him nailed, just as he was going to, eventually, taking their time the way she wanted, totally nail her.

For the time being he contented himself with working her over. He took turns with her beautiful breasts, lifting one, sucking one, and then the other. He plucked her shirt off the bed and put her back in it, which surprised her.

“You’re dressing me?” she asked.

He sucked them through her shirt, just to see how she looked like that, with the cloth all wet, clinging to her. He got off the bed and adjusted the camera to a close up and then set up a medium shot and did it all again.

The bright lights and their exertions were making them sweaty, and he asked her if she’d like him to lose the lights or go down to just one.

“You go down, definitely,” she said, “but leave the lights where they are. This is the first time I’ve felt warm in two weeks in England.”

She was well beyond warm, she was smoking hot, was what she was. He stripped off his tee shirt and she rubbed at his shoulders and arms and chest, licked at his own nipples, nibbled and licked in a little line down to his naval.

He crumpled her skirt between his palms, still not removing it. 

He decided to surprise her some more. 

He pulled her panties up high over her hips again, slipping her bare leg back in its stocking.

“Why -?” she began, but got no further, he just wanted to be the one to undress her, she understood that soon enough.

Having re-dressed her in that way, he took his time now picking up her panty hose and slipping her bare legs into them, and just looking at her like that, all disheveled but dressed against except for her bra.

And then he began with her in earnest. He was rolling the panty hose down again inch by inch, licking her as he went, switching from leg to leg, licking her thigh to ankle, until he was tugging the stockings off her feet altogether. Then he kissed each toe.

She was moaning and squirming as he went licking in the other direction now, from toe to ankle, to smooth firm calf, behind her knee, around her knee, up her thighs again, oh she was slippery from his tongue. He pulled her panties off with his teeth and licked her all over again, she was wet against the sheets, but not as much as she would be dripping soon.

He thrust her legs apart and tongued her clit rigid, he made her cum over and over, he nibbled the soft folds of her vagina, he thrust his tongue deep inside her. Her damp thighs clutched his head and neck.

And then he was truly ready to go again, and it was his turn to succumb to her. She pushed him down against his pillows, unbuckled his belt and rolled down his jeans. Then she took down his boxers. She tugged his pants and underwear off and tossed them across the bed. She rubbed his legs and thighs and hips with her hands and trailed her breasts along and across the length of him. 

She pressed his dick between her tits and humped him like that until he stuck up straight as a flag pole. Then she teased him with kisses all across the head, circled him lightly with her tongue, and then, just as it was becoming unbearable, she dropped so that her breasts were cradling his balls now and she drew him deep into her mouth.

She sucked him until he vibrated and then she rubbed him between her palms, tugged him, rubbed him, pulled him, and made him cum for the second time outside her. But this time, just as she’d suggested, he came on her, spraying her thighs, her belly, and her skirt.

They lay there damply, gasping.

“Next time,” he said, when he could speak, “I’m indeed fucking you.”

“Absolutely,” she agreed.


She asked him to get her a towel, and he did, and while she cleaned herself,

he leaned over the edit bay, and shot her a complicit look.

“Would you like to post it? To the site that everyone uses? We can black-bar our faces.”

She was quiet for a moment.  Not because she wasn’t sure she wanted him to do it, but because she was sure, and it surprised her.

“All right,” she agreed. “Whatever you want.”

She thought for a moment about why he wanted to put pictures of her, of them, on the Internet for the whole world to see if they wanted to see it. And why she wanted him to do it. For one thing, it would be great promotion for their show, if they told people it was them, of course. Certainly something new for her to narrate having done, use a bit of in their actual project. It would get people talking, that was for sure. 

She was still lying sprawled on the bed under the hot lights, spent. She finished cleaning her legs. She laughed. “I’ve never had anyone do that to me before.”

“I’ve never had anyone ask,” he said. “There were a few times back at University -”

They both laughed now. He took the towel from her and swiped at the floor. She leaned over the edge of the bed, and kissed his balls. 

“Go ahead and post,” she said, dreamily. “Anything you want to do really – anything at all, really, that’s fine.”

“Then c’mon,” he said, helping her off the bed. “Something I’ve never done. I’ve never uploaded naked.”


Time ticked by, wonderfully and sensually slow. Caty sat in a cool leather chair in front of the edit bay, acutely aware of being naked herself, at least beneath her skirt and damp shirt, which she’d tugged back on. It was an edgy feeling, watching him work, with his still enormous cock. He’d slipped his tee shirt back on, but beneath its edge, she could see that his erection would fade momentarily, while he selected a few of the most salacious clips of their recent acts; but then just watching them back made him rock hard again. Watching him, watching them, made her wet.

Yes, she was wet, and hot, and also edgy. Edgy because here she was absolutely allowing James to post these extremely graphic images with faces blurred of course – to the Internet, not just allowing him, but wanting him to do it. She was edgy as well because there he was, right there, ready for her to have at again, or for him to have at her.

She had no doubt whatsoever that should she bend over the chair she was sitting in and lift her crumpled skirt, he would impale her from behind and forget all about this electronic editing and uploading in two seconds flat. She had that kind of power over him. He had that kind of power over her, that she wanted to do just that.

And so she did it. 

Yes, he looked at her, and she looked at him, and there they were. He worked his way in and out, their thighs slapping together, his cock feeling so good, hitting all the right places, all of them – and as if they were the most in sync of first time lovers – and apparently they were, they both came, both cried out. She’d closed her eyes and when she opened them again she was looking at herself on the edit screen, him eating her out. 

They were both – insatiable. 

The scene they were documenting turned her on. It had changed her. Or maybe it was James who’d done both. It was hard to tell, as being with him was entirely bound up with the sexual play acting they were witnessing and recording – and now performing themselves. How would she ever let this go?

“That didn’t count,” James said, pulling out of her with a gasp. “We didn’t record it.”

They both laughed. But she was serious when she said. “Then, we’ll do it again when you’re done with your editing.”

“That is a promise,” he said. 


James pushed his sweat-damp hair from his forehead and went right back to work. Everything they were doing was crazy, he thought. And he loved it. And, truth be told, he was just possibly falling in love with her.

He hit playback on his console and watched her watch their bodies in extreme close-up, and then a wider shot with their faces obscured. She watched him eat her out and she watched her jerk him off across her thighs. 

Wow. He saw the look on her face. She wanted to do it all again.

“Like it?” he asked.

“It’s – great,” she managed. 

He knew she meant everything. Not just what was up on the screen.

He typed up a caption that explained he was documenting an example of the  scene that was causing “quite a collective howl, whether of pleasure or outrage” across England with displayed public sexual performance. He put in his web address, and then he posted the edited clips and the information.

“Triple digit hits,” she suggested. “People like to watch.”

“People like to be watched,” he teased her.

“Everybody’s watching,” she said.

He flopped down in the chair across from hers and stretched one leg over to her chair and just simply watched her for a moment. She was beautiful. And completely his. He shifted himself until he could stroke her thigh with his foot, and then he had his foot between her legs, and he was rubbing at her vagina with his toes.

It was strange and definitely kind of fun. Evidently she thought so too, because she cried out and came again. 

He moved his foot away. “How many times was that? Sixteen?”

“Eighteen,” she said, recovering.

“How many times have you ever come at one time?”

“Before now?”

“Before now.”

“Five or six,” she said. “At my own hand.” 

“Well. We are on a roll, then. We should see just how many you can have 

 until you walk out the door again.”

“I don’t intend to walk out anytime soon.”

“Good. Then we’re going for a world’s record. Lift that skirt up higher,” he told her.

She pushed the fabric up around her hips.

“Spread your legs a bit,” he directed.

She spread her legs.

“Look at yourself.”


Caty liked this game. She could play it forever.

She looked, her public hair shiny and wet, her clit delightfully rosy and distended, her vagina wide, ready – for him. Or whatever part of him he wanted to provide at the moment. 

She was feeling ridiculously hedonistic, high on the sex. And yes, some of that came not just from James, or acting out the kind of fantasies she’d always had or recently witnessed, but the idea that they were making themselves available, exposing themselves for public consumption. 

The word consumption made her want to consume him. Rational thought was out of the question. 

How long she could keep this going? Through the evening certainly, maybe into the next day? And then, were they really going to be able to just pick up where they’d left off, go back to work, such as it was, documenting other people’s sex lives? Possibly including the same blurred out clips he was posting now?  

“Bring the camera over here,” she said.

He smiled. “So. You want the camera brought over here,” he mused. “Then you might want it over there, in the kitchen, or by the sofa, or even in the middle of the room soon,” he said. “We might have to stay here for days, weeks, months, to get all the footage we want.”

She was unbelievably excited when he said that. 

He was thinking what she was thinking. How do we keep this going?

He got up and went over to the lights slung around the bed. Two of the four he turned toward her, sitting there in the chair. Then he opened a case and set up more lights, six more, pointing at the kitchen, the sofa, the empty middle of the room. As the lights clicked on the entire loft felt as if they were lost in some tropical heat wave. She felt feverish, a line of perspiration trickled down her neck. That, too, was amazingly sensual.

Her entire being was caught up in this – this performance. Their own private sex film. That wasn’t really private. Where she got to call the shots, except when she invited him to call them. Was this what the whole subject, the whole act of public performance was about in the end?

He took the camera off the tripod and walked it close to her. Hand held, he video-taped her pussy in close-up; spent minutes on her, spreading her pubic hair with his hand, stroking her slippery. Then he asked her to raise her shirt, and he photographed her breasts, with his hand moving in and out of the shot, rubbing her nipples hard and erect. He took a wide shot of her just sitting there in the chair like that.

“Everything to your liking now?” he asked.

She could barely speak. “Oh, yes.”

“What next?”

“You take over,” she suggested.

“I think I already have,” he said.

He put the camera back on its tripod – what a sexual thing a tripod was actually, very phallic, she’d never thought of it that way before. He screwed the mount in place, oh yes, just think of the words, screwed the mount.

He dropped down in the chair again, but leaned forward, lightly stroking her with his fingertips, just his fingertips, he could not reach her in any other way without standing up again.

He made her come this way, with the sensation of something light as air moving against her, but in all the right places. 

“How else can I delightfully demean you,” he asked her, softly.

She just sat there, breathing heavily. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she said. 

“Anything I want to do is okay?”

“Definitely,” she said, and she was practically panting now, partly from the heat of the lights, but mostly from something else.

He lifted a pair of scissors from a shelf above the edit bay, and very gently and precisely, he leaned over her and he cut her skirt right down the middle from the waist line to the hem. He spread the halves open so that she was bare from the waist down.

She felt unbelievably excited. “Shirt, too,” she said.

“Ah,” he said, “the lady says shirt too.”

But he set the scissors carefully back on the shelf and knelt down next to her. He put his teeth against the bottom of her shirt and tore a small hole. Then he pressed his finger inside the hole and ripped, ripped and ripped until he’d jaggedly unraveled the fabric all along her midriff. He tore more aggressively now, until her breasts fell free. He rose and dropped back in his chair. “There,” he said. “Properly ruined.”

She stood up and cast off the torn clothing. “Properly naked,” she announced. “You. Take off that shirt.”

He raised his arms like a child, and she tugged it off over his head. Then she turned herself, just as she’d done before, and bent down across the chair.

“Take two,” she said. “Camera on?”

“Yeah,” he said.

And he was in her now, once again fucking her from behind, making the chair squeak and slide across the floor.

He felt amazingly good inside her, and maybe it was because she was already so turned on, had already come so many times, but she came again, fast and hard, while he was pounding into her.

Gasping, they just stayed where they were, locked in place in the slightly uncomfortable position that felt so good, so good.

“I want to stay here forever,” she whispered.

He pulled from her, and went to the camera, and clicked the recording off.

“I like that idea,” he said.

“But we have to get back to work. And then I have to get back to the States, and then – I don’t know,” she said, “I just don’t want this to end.”

“Maybe this will turn into a mini-series. A full-on cottage industry. Everybody watching around the globe.”

“You know it won’t.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean to spoil the fun,” she said. 

“You didn’t.” 

He was standing right next to her now, and had her in his arms.

“I’m just so – in lust with you,” she said, pressing her face against his shoulder, and taking a small, tantalizing nibble there. “What if I just refused to ever leave, I have no clothes to put on now, after all, and here I am, every moment, ready to seduce you and have you seduce me?”

His cock was brushing against her thigh.

She felt as if she couldn’t catch her breath.

“What if I told you I wasn’t just in lust with you, but something more?” James said.