Tired after flying from Los Angeles to New York, I finally made it to my hotel. As is my habit, I crossed the room and dragged open the curtains. I stood overlooking Times Square and the mass of humanity below. I couldn’t spy the Naked Cowboy or the painted women with huge breasts trying to take pictures with tourists for a quick buck. But the visceral excitement of the city floated up through the floors.

As I debated between getting something to eat, taking a shower or simply crawling into bed, movement in the window caught my eye. Since the last time I’d stayed at that place, a new hotel had risen right across the street, and from my vantage point, I had a good view into many of its rooms. That’s New York City for you. Lights shone through many semi-closed blinds, but other rooms were dark. Here and there someone stood, and then the light turned on in a spot directly across from me. I saw a nude male chest sprinkled with dark hair. Enough of his body was visible for me to assume he might be totally naked.

Before he spotted me, I ducked behind the drapes. My heart beat faster, and all signs of travel weariness vanished. I wondered if the man would stay there long, and if he did, I wondered if I’d have the nerve to watch him, considering he could clearly see me, too.

Inexplicably, my nipples tightened inside my shirt, and I wanted to shed my own clothes. Working up my nerve, I pulled my hair out of its tie and enjoyed the feeling of release. Then I removed my jacket and unbuttoned my shirt halfway. Was it me, or was it getting hotter in there?

I pondered if there were a way to nonchalantly strip off my clothes without seeming to do it for his sake — even though that’s exactly what I wanted to do. My imagination was running wild! I could get naked while crossing my own room and check the thermostat. I mean, it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Or just even change into my pajamas after a long day.

As I contemplated my choices, I peeked at my neighbor.

He was standing in the window frame, eyes closed but facing in my direction, a muscular Adonis with his arm in a blur of motion, seemingly jerking his cock.

His erection was just out of view, but it was obvious what he was doing.

Someone on the floors above me could look down and get an eyeful. He had to realize anyone and everyone who dared to glance his way could see him! Did he know I stood there watching? I realized maybe he got off on that — the idea of others being able to see him pleasuring himself. To be honest, it was seriously turning me on.

I fantasized freely, picturing the two of us together. I thought about him sliding his fingers through my dark hair and holding me still as he gazed into my eyes. Oh yes, that sounded good. Even better, I imagined his lips on mine and our tongues tangling.

I reached into my shirt and under my bra and ran my fingers over an already hard nipple. Across the way, his arm jerked, but most of him remained hidden beneath the windowsill. If he only moved back just a little, I’d be able to glimpse the rest of him. All of him.

A telltale tingling flared between my legs. Damn, it had been too long since I’d come. There I was watching some unknown man in another room, in another hotel and getting all hot because of it. I needed to get off.

I’ve led a fairly solitary life. I work too much and travel too much for my job. But early in my career, I’d discovered relationships complicated everything. After a few weeks, guys always wanted to come with me on business trips like they were an all-expenses paid vacation, but my schedule didn’t allow a traveling companion. When it came to the last few guys I’d dated, I wanted less and they wanted more, and I’m not talking physically.

Maybe I’d eventually find someone who appreciated my drive, work ethic and my body. Until then, I was flying solo — and my body was begging for attention. 

In my horny haze, I realized I didn’t care if the dude across the way got off on others watching. He might’ve purposely booked that room for exactly that reason, for all I knew. At the same time, I also didn’t care about any other people who might be watching. I was only interested in the guy across the way. And the same second I had that thought, he opened his eyes and his hand stilled.

He was looking directly at me!

Panic struck, and I stood there with hand inside my bra. My pussy was throbbing as he stared into my soul.

OK, maybe that’s a bit dramatic. But at that moment, that’s exactly how I felt, caught as I was with my hand inside the cookie jar.

But as our gazes locked, he stepped back, giving me a full view of himself. He was as naked below the waist as I’d imagined.

Good gracious! I could see the muscles on his chest and arms were quite nice. With his free hand, he gestured toward me and mouthed something. Without hearing a word of what he said, I knew he wanted me to strip off my shirt.

I wanted that, too. My last two buttons opened easily, and I quickly tossed my shirt onto the chair. I was glad to have worn my prettiest lavender push-up bra. My C-cup bust is one of my best features. But the rest of me wasn’t bad either. At 31, I worked out often to keep my body trim.

I reached behind myself, unfastened my bra’s hooks and slid the straps off my shoulders.

A sense of shyness overtook me, and I covered my breasts with one arm. There I was, a professional woman on a business trip in Manhattan, playing a game of striptease with someone I didn’t know. Someone I’d never meet and who’d likely never judge me. The thought relaxed me.

The room’s air conditioner kicked on, sending a rush of cool air over my body.

Without even being in the same room with that handsome stranger, I was on edge and my cunt was so wet.

A new sense of freedom came over me. I dropped my arm and pressed my bare chest against the glass window, luxuriating in the flash of cold against my hot skin. From the look of things, he appreciated my wanton display.

Stepping back, I gave myself some room to move. I trailed my fingertips up my stomach, then cupped my breasts, stroking my thumbs over my nipples until they puckered into almost painful points. It was time to move lower.

I’d traveled in a long skirt and decided to make a show of my striptease. I kicked off my shoes and socks and shoved down my underwear. Then I leaned against the back of a chair, slowly raising the skirt over my thighs.

At that point, I’d stopped thinking of propriety and focused on my feelings. It was easy to imagine his hand moving in unison with mine, pleasuring myself as he stroked his own dick.

The moment felt totally naughty. I reached between my legs and stroked my slit. It was like nothing I’d ever done before, but it felt so good. I closed my eyes, relishing every sensation. Faster and harder I rubbed my nub, my fingers slick with my own wetness.

Sure, I’d played with myself before, but knowing someone was watching me added to the moment. I wasn’t alone!

Every muscle in my body tightened, and once again I wanted to see him. I had no idea who he was, what he did or why he was in New York. But none of that mattered anyway. Our eyes connected, and time practically stood still. 

My breath hitched, and my legs trembled. I moved my hand faster. I was so close to coming, teetering on the precipice of an insane release. As my orgasm hit, my body was illuminated by a flash of red neon from outside.

I opened my eyes just in time to see him stroke himself to climax.

My nervousness had vanished completely, and I laughed.

Across the way, the man placed his hand against the window, and the heat of his palm appeared to leave an imprint on the glass. With a nod of his head, he closed the drapes.

I sank onto the bed, half dressed and sated. I was shocked I’d actually gone through with it. I’d masturbated in front of a stranger who’d gotten off on the sight of me!

I felt both free and reinvigorated.

After a few minutes of rest, I unpacked my bags and got ready for bed, leaving the blinds open. He may have been ready to close out the city that never sleeps, but I wasn’t.

That night was only the start of an eventful trip. My handsome neighbor stayed in the same room all week, and every night we shared a special moment.