Window Washing

What more could go right?

On the fourteenth floor of a Beach Avenue condominium, a woman stepped out of a steaming shower. 

For a moment she stretched her arms up high, her breasts rising pointed and curved over the delicate ribs. Her sleek hips pulled taut as she stood on her tiptoes, hanging her head back and letting her long, dark curls stream down her back. With slow sensuality she massaged her buttocks, pelvis, breasts, and stomach. Then, smirking at herself in the mirror, she began to briskly towel-dry her hair.

She was grinning because of an earlier exchange in the lobby. 

A group of window washers was sitting in a cluster of armchairs, waiting for security clearance, when she came in. As she strolled by, they pretended to know her! 

‘Leona, how’s it going?’ they called. 

She went closer and looked at them, but did not recognise a single one. There were two slender, strappy young men with rose-red mouths and luminous eyes, and two slender, strappy young women whose tousled, ear-length hair gave them a boyish appearance. All were dressed in coveralls.

‘Do I know you?’ Leona asked, eyeing the security guard who sat in his booth, oblivious. What if this is some kind of heist? she was worrying to herself.

‘We’re the window washers!’ they smiled familiarly. ‘You remember, don’t you?’

Leona couldn’t remember a thing. Nervously, she clutched her handbag and sped to the elevator with a quick good-bye.

Now, safe in her washroom, she chuckled at their prank. 

They must have gotten her name from the list by the front entrance . . . But then, how would they have known what she looked like? Maybe they'd arranged the trick with the doorman, Lance, whom they knew well.  They were just kids, really — not one of them older than twenty-five, she’d bet. They couldn’t be criminals.

Wrapping herself to the waist in a fluffy towel, Leona picked up a magazine and went out onto her private balcony. Her suite was so high up and so well-protected by shrubbery that she had always been able to sunbathe in private. Well, save for the odd helicopter, which didn’t bother her a bit.

Under the hot sun Leona dropped the towel from her waist. Her skin glistened as she lay back in the chaise longue, piling her long locks up around her head. She donned a white eye mask to give her dreams of angelic things, and laid down the magazine for a moment. 

The sun beat warmly upon her, making her lazy, and languid. 

Slumbering deliciously, she let her body relax and open up. Her legs and arms, breasts, belly, feet, and vulva soaked exquisitely and gladly in the warmth.

The sun had shifted, and Leona’s arms ventured up to adjust her position. But she found herself limited in movement all of a sudden, by the whisper of silk bands around her wrists! She didn’t understand and pulled her arms again, then her legs, finding herself completely bound to the chaise longue.  

Yet she hadn’t noticed a thing — not even a presence, or a hushed movement!  Was this a dream, then? It must be a dream, she suddenly realised.

Then she felt it. Opening her eyes, all Leona could see was the white of the mask as a smooth white blade of sexual pleasure slipped over her. It was the gentle pressure of a wet tongue on her cunt. She gasped as first it rubbed her warmly, smoothly, in between her most secret parts. She held her breath, as the tongue gently frolicked its way all around her labia and dipped inside, then darted up to fondle her clitoris wickedly.

Leona squirmed with pleasure and let go, knowing it was okay to feel this way in a dream. The tongue continued its probing licks and soon she also felt a sweet mouth on each of her breasts. They twirled and sucked at her nipples for one second –

Then suddenly, Leona’s body was covered in hands.  

They touched her everywhere, sliding in between the wet lips of her vulva, pushing and pulling as the tongue continued to tease between her open legs. 

Leona moaned now, but realised she'd been gagged as well. Hands and fingers tickled, fumbled, played in her armpits, in her mouth, behind her ears, about her hair, twisting and turning, winding, gliding over her belly and thighs, cupping her feet. 

The hands made her feel joyous and absolute, and in the middle of it all there was this rooting, stroking, hot tongue that was forcing her to open up her knees and thrust her hips upward, to the source.

Leona panted and responded this way, feeling hands and mouths on all her parts.  There were at least two mouths licking and probing her pussy. Others traced long, slick trails up and down her body and around her hips, followed by exploring, devious fingers. Her anus was tickled and twirled, her bum cheeks spread wide open, her legs and arms lifted up and carried by strong, roaming hands and mouths. Leona’s body soared and rocked with on the waves of this commotion.

Then every mouth worked at her pussy, all of them battering each other for a turn at the clitoris or the hole or the slippery slide in between. They batted her beautiful vulva around, and all the hands worked deeply at her open thighs. 

This was all she could feel: it was like a divine operation in pleasure and she was a blind, intoxicated patient. 

These tongues and hands licked and prodded and massaged in between her legs and around her nipples. Finally she found the hot, hard thing she was seeking and slid herself around it, grasping its smooth, sexy, flexible strength deep inside her velvety cunt. 

The mouths began again and this time it was just a plethora of lips and tongues and that long, stroking, pulsating thing pushing and massaging her wet pink cunt, pushing in and out.  

Then all the hands pulled her legs wide open and the deep thrusting began that stroked her hard inside the way she loved and made her cunt clutch again and again with delicious spasms and shudders. The tongues acted like a chorus of angels singing, making her come like she was holy and on fire.  

Again and again, her vulva was rubbed and sucked and her body rocked upward, forward, open to the sun and the hands and the cock and the mouths.  

Again and again, the hot hardness slid in and out of her like a beautiful sweet slithering magic wand and then made her come loudly, gushing, as it vibrated rapidly against her engorged clitoris.  

Finally Leona began to weep and sweat with gratitude, pushing the neverending gorgeous sex offerings away with her elbows and knees.  She opened her legs to the sun as she fell asleep, like the warmth would heal her wounds of orgasm. 

And she awoke from that doze quite sticky and moist all over. 

She seemed to recall several vague faces and felt the fabric of coveralls like a whispered memory on her skin. A faint echo of youthful laughter. Had she dreamed this more than once? Those window washers came on a monthly basis, didn’t they?

Then the sun glinted on the windowpane, sharply.

It did look very clean . . .