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The giant irregular ‘S’, followed by the Coke logo, floated smoothly along the building’s glass façade. The curving bar of light swept across the windows, coming from and going onwards to its quarter-hour circumnavigation of the building. Each glass pane turned almost blindingly white as its electro-chrome films activated, in a visual concert orchestrated by a few lines of code. To the people looking out of these windows, it would appear that the glass went entirely opaque for a couple of seconds, as a counter electro-chrome shielded their eyes from the glare. Of course, I paid good money to live in an apartment building that didn’t have these inconvenient contrivances.
I sat facing the bank of wall-mounted screens which, for the most part, displayed financial reports and stock market performances of organisations around the globe. I had been glued to the constant flux of information since the moment I had awoken this morning, and would be till I drifted off. This had been my routine for the past couple of months, şişli escort ever since I had moved into this flat after having to expeditiously remove myself from my Macau residence. However, for the past week or so, my viewing preferences had changed slightly.
The large flatscreen at the centre showed the feed from a 12k camera trained at the flat across the street from mine and three levels down. The timestamp on the corner read 8:30 PM. The show was about to begin. I watched as she came out of her bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. She was dressed in a peach robe, which she soon discarded to put on a white tank top, and black mini-skirt which barely covered her ass. Her hair she tied up with a long pin, put on some hoop earrings and lifted one long leg on to the edge of the bed to pull on her white thigh-highs. She hadn’t begun streaming yet, as indicated by the blank background on the smaller screen to the right, which was a shame. Watching her dress up had come to be one of my favourite ümraniye escort bits, and I felt sorry for those who couldn’t afford to live across the street from her.
My cock was already starting to tent my pants. I allowed my mind to wander to a week ago when I had come across her by accident. I had been scanning the street below for people or vehicles which looked out of place. Being paranoid was what had saved my skin three months ago, and I had no intent to let them get that close to me again. After about twenty minutes of looking for suspicious behaviour, I panned the camera back up. I would’ve almost missed her had I not been distracted by the sound of a bell down the corridor. When I looked back at the screen, the feed showed an Asian woman in the throes of ecstasy. Her head leaned back against the foot of the bed, looking up at the ceiling. One hand squeezed a perky breast, while the other pistoned a glass dildo into her pussy. I had watched as she quivered, and then smeared her creamy juices escort nişantaşı all over her mound.
It hadn’t been hard finding her cam profile, which afforded me an up-front and closer look at her. But I mainly watched her from my vantage point, something that none of her thousands of followers had. It sometimes gave me goosebumps, knowing that not just her body, but her entire life was laid bare to me. Over the last week I had spent more and more time watching her from the confines of my apartment. She’d go away from home for most of the day, even on weekends. I was tempted to ask her what she did outside of her streaming hours, but never messaged her. I just watched.
Now, as she streamed spreading her milky thighs apart and licking her fingers before pulling her pink gash open, I wondered if I could get her to come over to my place one of these days. Or maybe that wouldn’t be as… thrilling.
The Coke logo swept across the building again. Her window went bright white, and after it passed — she was gone. Even the stream had gone dead. I rushed to my window and peeled the privacy curtains back. A drone dove swiftly from the right and fired its tasers through the glass. I twitched in blazing agony, my cock spurting its pent-up load, before blacking out.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32