Eye Candy for the Wicked

He Was Stroking

I was 22 and had a momentary lapse of “moving back home” after college. My parent’s had a huge backyard with a gorgeous pool and an amazing privacy fence. The yard was so private that you could almost be comfortably nude. I say almost because they have one neighbor whose home has 3 stories and a wrap around porch on the top floor. Anyone could go on that high porch and have an arial view of our entire back yard. When I’d be swimming in my eye candy for the wicked suits I would imagine that someone was up there watching. It would give me bukkake wet dreams.

Imagining them trying to blow a load hard enough that they could that cream to land somewhere on me. Once while I was taking a dip in my favorite white, two piece, string bikini I actually spotted someone up there watching me. He had something, possibly a mirror, covering the lower part of his body but I could see his bare chest. He was a short, chubby, middle aged man with a receding hairline but I was still turned on for some reason. I think it was because I could see his arm moving vigorously as he just stared back at me. Our eyes connected and his arm movement only increased as his face started to turn into something primal.

Mutual Masturbation

He absolutely knew that I knew what he was doing and it only seemed to drive him. I was eye candy for the wicked. His tongue started to protrude as the strokes of his arm increased faster and faster. Coyly, I positioned myself in the corner, never breaking eye contact. I floated my legs to the top of the water and then spread them as I pulled my panties to the side exposing my slit and hole. As his face formed into something wicked, I began to rub my clit, and put my mouth in an “O” as if attempting to catch his cum. He let out a howl like a wolf and quickly retreated, leaving me to rub one out by myself.

The audacity left me in shock and feeling so immoral, which also sent me into a full body orgasm. After the aftershocks of my spine-tingling climax, I went to bed and had a dreamless sleep. Being eye candy for the wicked is exhilarating and then exhausting. The need to be desired can be all encompassing at times for me. Thinking of a man looking at my sweetness and it making him throb feels like nothing else. I am obsessed with being needed.

Being Eye Candy for the Wicked

The need to have all the insatiable wicked eyes on you can also be quite dangerous. To tease and deny can lead to unwanted attention also. When you spread that pink pussy and secretly expose that pretty little hole on the train, you don’t know who you are showing. The things any one of them could be capable of are unimaginable, but the danger is the exhilarating element. Parting those long legs in that short skirt to your boss in the office is so risqué. His eyes travel ever so slowly up your thighs to find that sweet mound has no panties. Or when you get on all fours and arche that ass high in the air on the nude beach.

It’s the not knowing part that always pushes me over the edge and those orgasms are so much more vivid. You feel it live in every cell of your being for an hour after the gush. The day I am no longer eye candy for the wicked is the day that my dangerous ways will leave me but until then I will continue to seduce with my eye candy self and rub myself when, where, and in front of whomever I want to. I’ll visit truck stops and tease the truckers. I will masturbate in front of old farmers. This way of life is not recommended but when you look like I did (and do) at 22 years old, isn’t it the fault of my parents. They created the eye candy that I am and then they will just have to deal with it until I don’t look like this anymore.

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