My Girlfriend Hung Out the Laundry Naked and the Building Manager Came Up
I use these stories to let out things I don’t tell anyone close to me. My therapist gave it the technical name: candaulism. In short, I get hard showing off my girlfriend, and it turns out it’s a vice we both profit from. Carla and I aren’t in love, let’s not kid ourselves, but she’s such a slut and so hot that I have no intention of looking for anyone else. She has a paid account where she films herself with her toys and makes a decent living.
A month ago I came up with the perversion I’m going to tell you about. I wanted her to get the building manager hot and bothered, but things got away from us more than expected.
In the last week of April there was an early heat wave, and Carla’s around-the-house clothes, as soon as the thermometer went above twenty-two degrees, were a string thong and flip-flops. We had moved in February to an old building in the southern neighborhood, and the new girl was already known. At the communal pool she was the only one who wore a string bikini and always took off the top. The kids were hypnotized, the husbands were obviously trying not to look, and the women never spoke to her, except for two young women from the third floor who lived together and made eyes at her.
The porter sized her up every time he passed her. When she walked away, he stared at her ass until she turned the corner in the hallway. The wedges lifted her round, prominent backside so much that every step looked like a magic trick. I saw everything from the fourth-floor terrace: I watched her spread out the towel, take off her bra and lie on her back, letting her big breasts spill out under their own weight, soft and very white. Then she would put on lotion calmly, especially on her nipples, while half the building pretended to read the paper.
I watched people from the other terraces. There was always an audience. Some neighbor would discreetly pull out a phone. A couple of teenagers from the block across the way were shamelessly jerking off without moving from the spot. Adult men would come over to greet her with any excuse. Two horn dogs — the single man on the first floor and a divorced guy on the second — always offered to rub lotion on her back. Once I saw the divorced one shove himself back into his swim trunks behind a hedge to hide his erection after touching her for ten seconds.
Carla loved that the rest of the women couldn’t stand her. She liked showing off, provoking, being desired. She especially enjoyed the old men’s looks. She said they touched her and deserved a little visual joy in what was left of their lives.
As soon as the temperature went up, it was model time, even for sweeping the terrace or hanging out the laundry. The neighbors already knew it and appeared on their balconies on time like clockwork. I was reaching for her every five minutes. We had gotten to the point of opening the door to the mailman and the delivery guys with her topless. I watched through the peephole, they couldn’t tear their eyes away, and as soon as the door closed we ended up fucking on the sofa. Since she started answering the door like that, no package ever arrived late.
The Saturday of the first heat wave was laundry day. She went out to hang clothes with her tits out and a thong on, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. I watched from behind the living-room curtain. Coincidentally, several neighbors were also hanging laundry at the same time, or cooling off on their balconies. That was the audience.
Carla greeted the old man across the way, the one from the fourth floor. He only came out to look. Her pink thong blended into her very white skin. Her big ass, with a couple of small stretch marks on the upper part, looked even sexier for that real, unoperated detail. It was the result of years of gym, diet and genetics. Her breasts, shaped like parentheses and with the implants set very low, bounced every time she shook out a T-shirt.
The teenage boy from the fourth floor took out his phone without even trying to hide it. I filmed too, blood rushing straight to my crotch. Just then I heard noise on the terrace next door. It was the Carballos, a septuagenarian couple who almost never came around. He complained, she ordered. The sliding door opened, and Carla, standing with her back to the whole building and offering her ass to everyone, looked at me from outside and smiled. She knew exactly what was coming.
The gap between the two terraces was three horizontal iron bars. Don Casimiro appeared and froze. A woman with very pale skin, a strong back and long brown hair tied up. Big breasts with small areolas, wide hips, round, prominent ass, firm legs and pretty feet in tiny flip-flops. The old man couldn’t believe it. Carla let him look at her for a good while before speaking.
“Good morning, dear, this heat is something else, huh?”
“It really is, and it’s not even summer yet.”
“The weather’s gone crazy, completely crazy.”
“One has to dress for July already. I hope next Saturday isn’t so bad.”
“Do you hang laundry every Saturday?”
“Yes, that’s the day.”
Message delivered. Every time Carla looked him in the eye, Don Casimiro snapped out of it for a second, but then lost himself again in her breasts and her ass like a magnet. A little love handle peeked out when she bent over, and that turned me on even more. She was a real woman, not some surgeon’s doll. I was squeezing myself furiously behind the curtain while the old man adjusted his trousers without trying to hide it.
“Well that’s lovely, dear, nice and cool, nice and cool.”
Carla kept smiling, pressing her breasts between her arms every time she stretched out a sock. She had them bulging above and below her arm. The old man’s eyes were practically popping out of his head. Then his wife’s voice rang out.
“Casimiro, I’m calling you!”
“I’m coming, annoying woman!”
“What are you doing out there?”
“Getting out so I don’t have to listen to you.”
Doña Eulalia leaned out, saw Carla, and said “good morning, girl” with enough bite to melt a cable. My girlfriend returned the greeting in an angelic voice, finished hanging the laundry, and went inside. I was waiting for her with my cock hard as a piece of wood.
“Exhibitionist, come here and suck me off.”
She started sucking me on her knees next to the terrace door, where the boy from the fourth floor and the divorced man from the second could see perfectly. Her big breasts moved on her as she moaned and finger-fucked herself with the other hand. I grabbed her bun and pushed my cock a little deeper into her mouth. She had the gag reflex under control like a pro. She pulled it out, opened her mouth and wanked me until I blew over her tongue. Then she sucked for another minute so not a drop would be wasted.
“Someone rang the bell before,” I said when I’d caught my breath.
“I heard it. I thought it was a package.”
“Could’ve been Eulalia. Or she went to get Bruno.”
Bruno was the building manager. Newly retired, sixty-six years old, six-foot-two, over a hundred kilos, bald, broad-backed like a wardrobe and with arms that commanded respect. He’d worked in steel all his life. Efficient with building matters and, as people said, recently divorced because he’d gotten involved with a neighbor twenty years younger. He also made no effort to hide the way he looked at Carla’s tits whenever they ran into each other in the lobby.
“Oh, how naughty, the bear’s going to scold me?”
I was expecting a comment like that. And I got very turned on imagining that big hulk fucking my girlfriend apart.
“He’s coming back. Eulalia must have complained.”
“I can convince him in two minutes to ignore the old bitch.”
“What are you going to do?”
Carla made a caught-red-handed little-girl face, her dimples lighting up.
“You’re out of control, showing your tits with company over?”
“I’m just leaving him material for a couple of wanks. I’m going to agree with him about everything. I’ll go get dressed before he comes back.”
“When he comes back, I’ll go into the bedroom to watch,” I told her.
“Done.”
***
At five sharp the doorbell rang. I was already ready to pretend I was leaving, and Carla had gone down to the terrace to pretend she was sunbathing.
“Good afternoon, Bruno.”
“Hi, Mateo. Am I catching you at a bad time?”
“I was about to step out for a minute. What’s up?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure, man.”
The wardrobe came in.
“It’s Eulalia. She complained.”
“About what?”
“Because your girlfriend was naked on the terrace.”
“And? She was wearing a thong and flip-flops. She wasn’t completely naked.”
I wanted to plant the image in his head. I saw his gaze go distant for a second.
“That’s what I told her, but the old woman’s stubborn. She was going to give me a headache if I didn’t say I was coming up.”
“Well, fine, procedural thing. Carla’s on the terrace. Talk to her. I have to leave.”
I directed him to the door, said goodbye, opened and closed it with enough noise, and slipped barefoot into the bedroom, where a window looked out onto the terrace. The filthy bitch was completely naked on the sun lounger. Sunglasses on, headphones in, hair loose and her highest wedges set beside her. She wasn’t even wearing the pink thong. I hesitated for a second: maybe I hadn’t told her enough about that man’s history as a horny bastard. But apparently that gave her exactly the kind of thrill she needed.
Bruno stepped onto the terrace and his eyes went straight to the shaved pussy. That didn’t stop him from flashing a half-smile, satisfied.
“Hi, Bruno.”
“Hi, gorgeous. How are you? Though I can already see you’re doing very well.”
He put special emphasis on “very well.” He took her in from breasts to feet without bothering to hide it. He didn’t care if he made her uncomfortable.
“Getting a bit of sun. That way I won’t get tan lines.”
“Yeah, yeah, I see.”
“So what brings you here?”
“Building matters. Better if we talk inside.”
“All right, I’ll get dressed and come.”
“Get dressed?”
“Yes, I’m not walking into the living room with my pussy out.”
She put the thong on in front of him. Bruno didn’t miss a thing as her breasts bounced. Then she slipped on the wedges and walked in with deliberate sway. Bruno followed her with his eyes and let out a low “pffffff” that I heard from the bedroom. I moved to the crack in the door. From there I could see the living room and half the kitchen.
“Can I get you something, Bruno?”
“Right now? Something very bad,” he answered, laughing.
“Idiot. I mean to drink.”
“A beer would be nice.”
Carla came out of the kitchen with the can, her breasts swinging with every step. Bruno took it without taking his eyes off her nipples.
“So, what did Eulalia want?”
“For you to cover up on the terrace.”
“Well, let her complain. I’m in my house, not hers.”
“That’s what I told her. But she’s a pain in the ass when she comes around. Poor Casimiro never says a word.”
“I’m going to keep putting my tits in her face until I give her husband a heart attack.”
Bruno laughed, took a long swallow of beer and went back to inspecting her chest. Carla ignored the compliment and went into the kitchen to wash two glasses, swaying her ass without hiding it. Bruno watched her like a dog following a ball. After a while he got up, came over behind her and leaned against the kitchen doorway. He was devouring her. He started rubbing the bulge in his trousers over the fabric. It was a big bulge.
Carla looked toward the bedroom for a second, smiled, and kept washing up.
“What does your boyfriend think about you receiving other men naked?” he asked.
“I’m not naked, I’ve got a thong and wedges on. He doesn’t care. He says we’ve all seen tits and no one’s going to faint.”
“And no one’s ever tried anything?”
“The gas man came the other day and I put on a T-shirt.”
“You’re an exhibitionist. You like being looked at, don’t you?”
“It’s always flattering to feel desired. I’m not going to lie.”
“With an ass like that, it’s only normal.”
He stretched out his right arm and grabbed her right cheek. He wasn’t rough. He rested his hand there and squeezed gently. Then he stroked the whole thing.
“So firm and soft.”
Carla didn’t take his hand away. She just turned her head. I, behind the crack in the bedroom door, had pulled my cock out again.
“Bruno, what are you doing?”
“You want this. Otherwise you wouldn’t be walking around like that in front of me.”
“I’ve got a thong on.”
“You’re practically naked. You’re such a cocktease.”
He pressed himself against her from behind and ground the bulge into her ass, set the empty beer on the counter and grabbed her breasts with both huge hands. They were giant hands, but even so they still couldn’t fully cover Carla’s. I was filming with my phone in one hand and squeezing myself with the other like a monkey.
“Bruno, stop! You’re married!”
“I’m getting divorced. And a cunt like yours shouldn’t go to waste.”
Carla pretended to resist. She loved that game. Bruno drove the bulge into her ass while biting her neck. His voice had gone hoarse.
“Those tits. I’ve been thinking about those tits for months.”
“Bruno, let me go…”
“If you like it, slut. Feel how hard I am? I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.”
Carla protested without energy. She swayed back and forth, jamming her ass against his package, while he pulled her backward with her tits firmly in his hands and kissed her neck. I set the phone on the floor when a hot spurt burst inside the tissue I had in my hand. The excitement had hit me too fast.
Bruno turned her around, grabbed her hair and dragged her into the bedroom. Carla let herself be led, making a fake little whimper that only works if you don’t know her. I backed away from the doorway and, as stealthy as a cat, slid under the bed. There was a gap between the bedskirt and the floor from which I could see almost everything. If he catches me, I’ve got no alibi, I thought, while blood hammered at my temples.
Bruno pushed her face-down on the bed and slapped her ass. Carla let out a half-real whimper.
“You’re going to suck me. And watch the teeth.”
He stroked her face with his other hand just so she could see the size of his palm. Then he pulled out his cock, which sprang forward. It wasn’t especially long, but it was very thick. Carla took it with a disgusted little grimace, the kind of face she makes when she wants to stretch out the game. It took her two seconds to take it in her mouth.
“Suck it, whore!”
He brought her head closer, and Carla started sucking with exaggerated reluctance. Bruno threw his head back. Carla struggled to get the thick cock into her mouth. Bruno was growling like a bull.
“Your boyfriend the playboy has trained you well. Not a gag reflex.”
Under the bed, I filmed everything. My mouth was dry and my temples pulsed with every beat. Carla looked him straight in the eyes, defiant, while strings of saliva ran down her chin.
“That’s what I like, you looking at me.”
He pulled his cock out and slapped her twice on the cheek with it. Then he lifted her by the hair, turned her, and shoved her onto the bed on her back. Carla landed with her legs open. Bruno took off his pants and climbed on top of her. He spread her legs wider, rubbed his cock against her pussy and checked how wet she was.
“You’re soaked, slut.”
He drove into her to the hilt in one thrust and Carla couldn’t hold back the moan. Bruno started pumping violently, plas-plas-plas echoing through the whole bedroom. Carla clutched the sheets and moaned with her face buried in the pillow to muffle the screams. She loved that roughness.
“Cum, little whore! Soak my balls!”
The first orgasm hit her at the four-minute mark. She howled with her mouth against the pillow. Bruno didn’t ease up, which made her orgasm last forever. Under the bed, I was trying not to breathe hard while jerking off for the second time. Bruno grabbed her hair and forced her ass up.
“Who’s my little whore?”
“Me…”
“Louder!”
“Me!”
“That’s more like it.”
He shoved her face back into the pillow and sped up. Carla turned her head for a second to catch her breath and let out something that sounded like “you’re going to kill me.” Bruno just growled. A couple of deeper thrusts showed he needed air, so he stopped, pulled out, and ran his tongue from her cunt to her ass in one slow lick. Carla arched.
“Salty.”
He laid her on her back again, sat on his heels and grabbed her arm to pull her on top of him. Carla obeyed. She sat on that thick cock and moaned when he went back in. Bruno started devouring her breasts with the desperation of a hungry baby. His huge hands alternated between her tits and her hips. Carla searched for her clit with her right hand while bracing herself on the headboard with her left.
Under the bed, I came a second time into another tissue, contorted so I wouldn’t make a mess. I watched Carla close her eyes and rub viciously until she came on him.
“Fuck, fuck…”
Bruno pulled her off him rather roughly, flipped her over and started licking her ass. He put one finger in her cunt, then another in her asshole, slowly stretching her. Carla was huffing and rubbing her clit herself, calmly. She loved being worked from behind.
“I’m going to break that fat ass of yours,” he told her, still with his tongue on her.
He spat twice, shoved his cock into her cunt a couple of times to wet it properly, and started sliding it into her ass little by little. Carla threw her head back and let out a long moan. Bruno’s eyes rolled white.
“God, your ass is so tight.”
He gave her one hard smack, then another. Each one answered with a moan. When his cock went in all the way, he started pumping slowly, then faster. Carla matched the rhythm. I was still under the bed, with my cock in my hand, not even sure I had anything left in me.
“I’ve been watching you sunbathe for months and thinking about this.”
The thrusts sped up. The plas-plas was violent. His belly, which seemed out of place with the ferocity, bounced against my girlfriend’s ass. Carla was almost screaming, holding off another orgasm. Bruno grabbed her neck from behind without squeezing and sped up.
“I’m filling your ass, whore!”
“Yes, yes, fill me!”
A couple of dry thrusts, pressed against her, and he started moaning like an animal as he emptied himself inside. Carla howled with pleasure. The orgasm she’d been holding in snapped loose all at once. Despite the whole performance, I didn’t have enough left for a third. I tried anyway.
Bruno pulled out and Carla fell like a rag doll, panting. He still wanted more. He turned her over again, spread her legs and started eating her cunt slowly. Ten long minutes. Carla came twice more, and the third time she asked him to stop, saying it was starting to hurt.
The wardrobe ran his hands over her body, from breasts to feet, got up, put on his pants and laceless loafers.
“Girl, it’s been a while since I had that happen.”
He kept looking at her for another second, lying on her back, her breasts falling to either side, her nipples still hard, her breathing ragged.
“Don’t worry about the old woman. I’ll come by another day.”
And he left. I waited to hear the door close and counted to twenty before crawling out from under the bed.
“Fuck, he really fucked you hard.”
“Without counting you, it had been a long time since I’d been fucked with that much hunger.”
“He was huge.”
“Too huge, but what a fucking pleasure.”
We showered together. I got hard again looking at Bruno’s finger marks on her ass and hips. Carla had no body left for more, so she gave me a Cuban between her breasts until I came on her. Then we slept until Monday.
On Monday, when I went down to the lobby, Bruno greeted me with a nod, completely normal, as if nothing had happened. I nodded back the same way. Only in the elevator, alone, did I smile at myself in the mirror and think about the following Saturday. I was already thinking about how to invite him over for a drink when the heat came back.