Football voyeur

(Part 1 from 2)

Pedro was staying with a girlfriend in her rented flat in Paris. He was passing through really, on his way to London for a charity football match in two day’s time. He’d left his home in Milan, where he played for the city team, the day before and had arranged to take a couple of days out to rest up before the game in England. He’d not seen Anna for a year or so and they’d agreed that it was high time they caught up on news. They’d been teenage lovers once, many years ago back in Milan, and now they were able to enjoy the intimacy of friendship without the threat of sexual innuendo hanging over them. Staying at her place in Paris gave Pedro the chance to get away from the spotlight, the Paparazzi and the training schedules. It was only a charity match and he could just turn up and play so there was no need to spend several days in a hotel, pre-match training and psyching himself up. He was on holiday and that was that. 

But Anna had been called into work that evening leaving Pedro alone in the flat, kicking his heels and wondering what he should do. He didn’t like sitting still, didn’t enjoy time away from physical activity and he was becoming restless. He knew he should be relaxing, that’s what holidays were about, but doing nothing didn’t sit well with him. He’d wandered about the place, checking through the books on the shelves, all in French, thumbed through the DVDs, found nothing he wanted to watch, and had been searching around the cable channels trying to find something on TV to take his mind off his inactivity. His restlessness was not helped by the weather. It was July, the city was heating up in a heat-wave and the flat had no air conditioning. Dusk had settled in outside and, through the tall French windows he could see the orange glow of the city lighting the night sky beyond the block of flats opposite. There wasn’t even a view to admire. Anna’s flat was hemmed in by another block directly opposite and separated by a small courtyard.

He wandered out onto the balcony and the closeness of the air struck him. He could smell the city fumes, warmed and intensified by the heat of the dying day. The sounds of car horns and police sirens echoed around the courtyard below and drifted past him into the ether. It was as dull out there as it was inside. Nothing to do but wait for Anna to come home so they could sit up late and chat again. He contemplated going out but couldn’t be bothered to get dressed. He’d showered and put on a pair of light shorts with nothing underneath and had thrown on one of his playing tops. He stood on the balcony barefoot and leaned on the chest high railing, simply staring across at the windows opposite. Most of them were shuttered or curtained, only one light was on. About two floors below he could see a guy sitting at a computer. At least he could see the torso, the head was hidden from view by the top of the patio doors and the angle from which Pedro looked down. Just some nerd surfing his evening away. Dull. 

This wasn’t doing him any good, he found himself getting wound up. He wanted to do something but nothing appealed. He padded back inside and wandered into Anna’s room to stand in front of the full length mirror and talk to himself.

‘What’s this all about?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong with you today?’

His reflection didn’t answer. It just stared back at him with its green eyes. The head of dark hair shook itself at him. ‘You know what you need?’ it asked. ‘What?’ he replied, flatly.

In the mirror he saw the eyes drift down and focus on the front of his shorts and felt the soft material hang baggy around his thick thighs. He swung his hips from side to side and watched the outline of his cock as it settled back into place. He did it again and it grew a little bigger. Then he looked back at his reflection and it was smiling at him. A wry, lopsided grin showed off the famous gap where his tooth was missing. That smile told him they had reached an agreement.


‘Right, but who’s gunna do that for me right now?’ he growled back. ‘You do it,’ his reflection said. ‘Not the same,’ he answered. ‘Anna?’ ‘Huh, doubt it.’

Giving up on that idea he stomped back to the balcony to get some more, smog choked air and lent against the railing as before. A bead of sweat ran into his eye and he rubbed it away. Once he could see clearly again he looked down at the surfing nerd. He couldn’t make out what he was looking at down there on his PC but he was now leaning forward, studying screen closely.

‘Probably checking out my score record from the European Championships,’ Pedro thought to himself smugly and gave a short laugh. But then an action caught his eye. The guy below had shoved a hand into the front of his track suit bottoms and Pedro thought he saw him grab and pull. ‘Interesting,’ he thought, ‘the dirty git’s looking at porn.’

He inched along the balcony to his right a few paces and checked around. No one else was outside or in the courtyard as far as he could tell. The light from the living room behind him was casting his shadow onto the building opposite and there were no other shadows, so no one else was above or below him. Maybe that’s why the nerd had his curtains open, no fear of being seen. Or so he thought. Pedro squinted at the screen, it was about twenty feet below and he could just make out flesh coloured tones on the monitor. He couldn’t see what sex they were or what the pictures were of but they were definitely naked. He could see small patches of dark hair between legs but that was about it. Yup, the nerd was surfing for porn and playing with himself.

Pedro crouched a little, holding onto the railing for balance and peering through the ironwork. The nerd had removed his hand and Pedro could see a lump in the track suit. The nerd clicked onto a new page, the picture on the screen went white and then started to fill from top to bottom with one, enlarged picture. Two people; one underneath, one riding on top. Still, though, it was impossible to see what sex they were. 

‘Well, this is more interesting than the TV,’ Pedro muttered to himself and trained his eyes on the PC. The picture changed again but still he couldn’t quite make out what it was of. The nerd’s hand went back into his trousers and pulled away more slowly than before. Pedro felt his own cock stirring again. The breeze was creeping up from below and he could feel the air enter the legs of his shorts and investigate around his balls while his cock brushed gently against the silkiness of the material. That felt good. It also felt good watching someone else getting off on porn. No harm in that. Just a guy doing what Pedro wanted to be doing. He could look at porn and pull himself off, it would be something to do. But Anna didn’t have a PC at the flat and so he’d have to watch from there.

Then and idea struck him and he slipped back inside. For some reason his heart had started to beat faster and he felt nervous. Maybe it was because he knew what he was going to do, maybe because what he was going to do was like cheating, whatever the reason it felt exciting and good. He found his camera from his suitcase and came back outside to crouch in the same position. A quick check. No one around, only him and the nerd with the hard on. He put the camera to his eye, squinted and zoomed in.

The nerd’s hand was still working away in his trousers alright, slowly up and down, but now it had been joined by the other hand and this one was attending to the guy’s balls by the looks of things. Pedro settled himself against the railings, squatting down so that his arse was pulled wide. His knees were spread and he was almost sitting on the balcony floor. He was comfortable like this. He trained hard; he was strong and flexible and could maintain this pose for ages. 

The nerd removed his hands and started to push down his track suit. ‘Not sure I want to see this,’ Pedro said to himself but kept the camera trained in the same place. A bush of blonde pubic hair came into view and then disappeared as the guy lifted himself up. He sat again almost straight away, the trousers free from under him. Pedro’s nervousness increased when he saw the guy’s cock lying semi erect against his thigh. Not as big as Pedro’s but just as thick, it seemed to shine in the artificial light of the flat. The head was circumcised and pink. The nerd freed his balls from between his legs and the cock came to rest centrally on them. They were nearly hairless, round like flesh-coloured golf balls. And then the guy started to play with them again, cupping them underneath and squeezing them with his left hand while his right one drew circles with a finger around the inside of his thigh, stroking his own legs but not touching his cock. The guy reached forward, presumably to click the mouse again, and then sat back. The cock started to rise up, it didn’t get longer just firmer and he still didn’t touch it. He dug his fingers into his pubes and massaged them, scrunching the skin up and pulling it taught so that his cock rose perpendicular, then letting it all go so it flopped down onto the smooth balls that he was still working on. He did this a few times and then let everything go. He lent back, stretched out his legs and just left his cock standing there, 45 degrees from the blonde bush at its base.

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