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Somebody Watching Me

An Erotic Novelette


Charlene Black

Copyright Notice

Somebody Watching Me – An Erotic Novelette by Charlene Black

Copyright 2016 Charlene Black

Stock images: Depositphotos.com

Individuals depicted in the images are models and used solely for illustrative purposes

Cover Art by Tantric Candy

Published 2017 by Charlene Black at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. All characters are fictional and any resemblance with real persons, living or dead, is unintentional. This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. This ebook is for sale to an adult audience only. Always practice safe sex.

Table of Contents

Copyright Notice

About this Story

Somebody Watching Me

Part I

Part II

Part III

About Charlene Black

Other books by Charlene Black

Connect with Charlene Black

Tantric Candy

Free Tantric Erotica

About this Story

She resists. He persists. Time is on his side.

She is a professional author of historical erotic fiction. Striving to transmit the ultimate sensual experience to her readers, she is in the habit of dressing up like her main character and touching herself in the same way her characters are being touched while she is writing. One day, in the middle of a seductive passage in her story, a chat message opens on her computer screen. Whoever is on the other side knows seems to know everything about her. Who is watching her and what does this person want?

Somebody Watching Me is woven together in a fascinating plot where the boundary between fiction and reality becomes blurred and the past and the present come together in unexpected ways. Do you like historical erotic romance with a bite? Have ever played with the thought of exposing yourself online to a stranger? Then you will enjoy this enticing tantric novelette with an Explosive Blaze (4 out of 5) Tantric Candy heat rating, where the sexual tension keeps rising – over and over again – culminating in one steamy encounter after another.

Somebody Watching Me

I draw the heavy burgundy curtains and light the candles in the two large candelabra standing on the floor. Dark wooden bookcases line the walls of the room. A black divan couch strewn with red cushions accompanies them. A breath of air – the flame of the match is extinguished. A wisp of smoke still lingers above the charred head. I inhale the fleeting scent of sulphur and burned wood.

My bare feet sink into the ruby red rug as I walk across the floor and sit down behind my desk. The leather creaks under my behind. I lean back with a contented sigh; pleased with my office armchair and the many hours of comfort it has given me. My writing desk has been with me for a long time as well. It is a large, sturdy, antique colonial desk. The surface is worn out and covered in scratches from past incidents, made by people long forgotten. I run my fingers over the surface and imagine what these scars would tell me if they could talk.

Part I

I am a professional author writing erotic fiction. I want my stories and characters to be as believable as I can make them; I want every touch to be felt and every moan to be genuine. When I write, I often dress up as my main character or touch myself the same way my characters are being touched, so that I can fully sense what I am writing.

Tonight I immerse myself in a story that is taking place in the 18th century. In order to get into the right frame of mind, I am dressed in a black and golden corset and an ankle length velvet skirt loosely draping itself over my legs. The heroine of the story is a woman from a wealthy family. I relish in the descriptions of her attire; the luxurious look and feel of the fabrics of her clothing, a heavy crimson velvet dress combined with a black satin brocade bodice embroidered with a discrete gold motif. The locks of her long, dark hair having come undone as she hurriedly enters through the door.

Under normal circumstances no respectable woman would dare venture into a place like this, certainly not at such an hour. But these are no ordinary circumstances. The air is bustling with the sound of voices, music and laughter. As our heroine sits down in a corner, trying to make herself invisible, her eyes are irresistibly drawn to the ladies of pleasure making their living for the day. Generously exposed décolletages, long skirts riding high up on their legs, smooth thighs exposed. Each lady surrounded by two or more men buzzing around them like bees swarming around apple blossom. Flirtatious glances exchanged, hands finding their way up under the skirts.

With apparent ease, the girl sitting closest our heroine is entertaining three men at the same time. She is a beautiful young woman, wearing her blond hair in a simple knot on her head. Her blue eyes are seductively inviting, yet defiant at the same time – as if saying, “Come and get me – if you dare”. Sitting in the lap of one gentleman, she moves her hips in subtle circles. The man is untying her corset in the back, while another one pulls it down, exposing her breasts, fondling them and weighing them in his hands. A third man is just watching for now, eyes fixated on her lovely bosom.

One of the gentlemen frequenting this establishment spots our heroine and sits down next to her. He places his hand on her knee, slowly edging it up her leg. Another man is approaching. Our heroine knows all to well where this is going. She will have to get out of here and take her chances out on the street. She stands up. As she feared, the two men do not want to let het go so easily. One of them grabs her arm in an attempt to make her stay. She forcefully pulls her arm out of his grip and rushes towards the door.

Hastily, she starts walking down the street, but it does not take long before she realizes that she is being followed. She begins to run as fast as she can, but whoever is in pursuit is not giving up. Hurried footsteps echo behind her own. In an attempt to shake her pursuer, she dives into an alley, hoping to lose her shadow. She soon realizes the mistake she has made as the alley ends in a dark dead end. Panting heavily from the run, but trying to be as still as she can, she stands in the shadows with her back against the wall. The steps of her assailant are closing in on her.

Suddenly he is up upon her, forcefully pressing his body up against her, holding her fighting arms with his gloved hands.

“So you thought you could get away from me”, he says in a low voice.

Through her dress, she feels the cold of the hard bricks pressing against her back. From the front, she feels the force of his strong masculine body, pressing against her, into her.

“Why are you trying to run away from me?” His voice is strained, almost pained. “You know I will always find you in the end and bring you back to me where you belong.”

“I belong to no one, and most certainly not to you”, our heroine replies through her clenched teeth, as she is struggling frantically to free herself. Her bosom is heaving with the effort and the man that she detests above all is clearly enjoying the sight. She can feel his body respond and the force of his masculine presence growing, pressing into her and through her, almost as if he is entering her with his sheer will.

She forcefully declares, “You might as well give up now, because I will never yield to you!”

His hand grabs a hold of her hair by the roots at the base of the scull, forcing her to look him in the eyes. With an unfathomable look in those deep-blue eyes and a voice that tolerates no opposition he assures her, “Oh, but you will yield to me, even if you may not know it yourself yet.”

Still keeping her body pinned firmly against the brick wall, he brings up his other hand and touches her face. His touch is surprisingly gentle. But as she tries to take advantage of the situation and pull herself free, his grip tightens again and he starts sliding his hand downwards along the front of her neck and further down into her décolletage.

She feels the smooth leather against her skin. She holds her breath, excruciatingly aware of his presence still forcing its way into every corner of her being. At the same time his hand is travelling downwards at the same steady pace, reaching into her bodice and exposing her milky white breast to the cool air of the night. Her nipple reacts instantly. She curses her own body for its betrayal. His attention is fixed on her breast and as his hand touches her nipple, she cannot help but to gasp from the unexpected pleasure she feels in her breast and from that exquisite flutter suddenly present between her legs.


As I sit in front of my laptop, writing this story, I have begun to touch myself as well. The bluish light from the screen is falling on my face and on my body. I have put on leather gloves and now slide my hand along the front of my neck further down. As the hand in a soft leather lifts my breast out of my corset, exposing it to the light of the computer, I sense the same pleasure my heroine is experiencing. Leathered fingers touching me, my nipple becomes hard as well. Oooh, that tickling sensation signalling that I am becoming moist between my legs. A moan of pleasure escapes my lips.

At that moment a chat window opens on my computer screen:

What a lovely sight.

Why don’t you show me your other breast as well?

Instinctively, my hand covers my breast.

Another message:

Don’t be coy now.

I have been watching you write and I have been reading your stories for quite some time now.

I know you are a sensuous woman, your body yearning for pleasure.

Just lower you hand again.

Trust me, you will enjoy this.

Let’s play.

With one hand still on my breast, I slam my laptop shut with my other hand. My mind is racing. I can’t believe it – somebody is watching me real time through my webcam. How…? Why…? My heart is pounding in my chest. This is so creepy! At the same time, I also feel a rush of excitement in my body. It is kind of horny as well… Somebody has been watching me, I don’t know how long. I try to think back… What was I doing all those times? How much has he seen already?

My gloved hand still on my breast. I touch my nipple. My nipple instantly contracts again, sending a tingle of pleasure in between my legs. What if…? Should I…? Can I…? I decide to give in to my curiosity. I open my laptop. I sense him watching. Slowly, I lower my hand, revealing my breast again.

Good girl!

Now, show me how much you enjoy touching your breasts.

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