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“How did you meet him?”

“They moved in above us. The first day I met him, I was sitting out in the yard and he was grilling something. He came over, sat down, and introduced himself. I was kind of nervous. He was wearing short shorts and a T-shirt.

“I guess grilling was his thing. It smelled so fucking good. My mouth watered every time. The next couple of times I saw him out there he would offer us some. He would cut me a little piece of chicken thigh and bring it to me at the end of his tongs – Covid was raging, after all. I loved staring at his legs as he walked towards me with it, but I didn’t want him to notice. Alex hated him.”

“Who’s Alex?”

“My boyfriend. He wasn’t the most social guy ever, so it didn’t surprise me that he didn’t want to talk to him – but he wanted nothing to do with that chicken!”

“How did the next few months go?”

“Oh, fine. I was bored. He was bored? Who wasn’t bored? I was curious to know if he had a thing for me, or if he was just friendly. So I would sit out and sunbathe just outside his window.”

“Naked?”

“Haha! Oh lord, no. I would take my spaghetti straps off my shoulders and not wear a bra though. But I couldn’t see him, so that didn’t really help. I still liked sitting out there and imagine that he would pause for a moment to look down on me. I would take a book with me and hold it near my lap. I’d pretend to read it when really I was just using it to hide the fact I was touching my inner thigh while I thought about what he and I could do together.”

“Why wouldn’t you let him see you doing that?”

“I’m not that kind of girl!”

“Haha, OK.”

“Then I started noticing he would sometimes work out in the yard just outside our bedroom window. He would wear a tank top and these really short shorts. Push-ups, squats, burpees, whatever. Oh my god, the squats. Sometimes he would do them facing me, sometimes facing away from me. His legs were so big, I loved them.

“He would also sit out there with his shirt off. He’d arrive sweaty, maybe from a run? Sit in the sun and dry off I guess. But the way the building was laid out, that meant he would sit facing my window. So it just looked like he came to sit and show me that he had his shirt off. Or at least that’s what I told myself.

“One time I heard him out there on a phone call. Speaking Spanish or something – sometimes it sounded like French. Oh man, I had noticed the accent, but this just made me really hot.

“Sounds like you had a fun crush.”

“Most definitely, but not like crushes in high school, or crushes on celebrities. This was a purely carnal thing. I wanted my fantasies to rage.

“One morning while Alex was in the kitchen, I decided to tease him a bit. I would crawl out of my window to water my plants every few days – it was so much faster than walking around the side door. But this time, I put on the loosest pair of shorts I had – with no underwear on! And I crawled out butt first. I couldn’t see if he was looking. I started to come out and my shorts got caught against the window frame and they started getting pulled up, so I went more slowly than usual, in case he was looking. I can’t imagine my pussy didn’t show.

“I got down with a little bounce and smiled at him nervously. He smiled back and waved at me with just his fingers. Then, when I watered the plants, I made sure to bend over at the waist and make sure he could see down my shirt.

“I remember that all being very intense for me. When I went to go back inside, I got a little self-conscious that he was still there so I kind of raced into the window. I shut the blinds and got under the covers and started touching myself furiously. I didn’t want Alex to hear me, so I covered my mouth when I came.”

“Was it a particularly good orgasm?”

“Not really – or I don’t remember it being one. I did think it was remarkable how wet I had gotten just from that little display I did. I guess usually when I masturbate, I get wet as I go, so it was surprising to see that my slit was soaked at the first touch.”

“OK, so you `showed` yourself to him. Did you notice any change in him?”

“I don’t know if it was coincidence or not. But he seemed to be grilling a lot more after that! He would do it as we were going to bed; I don’t know who eats that late!”

“How late was it?”

“Like around 9.”

“Ha, that’s not late. You’re going to bed too early!”

“Haha, OK, maybe. Life with Alex was pretty boring. He’d get in bed and turn on the TV. So if I smelled grill smoke, I would put on a little show.”

“A show?”

“Yeah. Our window was pretty private, except of course if someone was sitting in the yard. I noticed that no matter where the chairs were during the day, there would always be one facing our window the morning after he grilled. If our lights were on, I couldn’t see out. But one day after turning the lights off, I looked discreetly through the blinds and saw him there. So I figured it was always him.

“And I started doing little shows, in case he was there. The bahis firmaları blinds would be down, but I’d leave them open, so he could see in through the slats. And then I would take my clothes off where he could see me. I couldn’t do anything too fancy, because Alex was there, but I definitely showed him my boobs.”

“Why not just strip for Alex and let your neighbor watch?”

“Ha, I guess that would have worked. But I had never done that for Alex before!”

“Maybe he would have liked it.”

“Maybe.”

“OK. What else did you show him?”

“I mean I took my underwear off. So would have seen my bush if he was looking. And my butt.”

“Do you think he saw it?”

“I definitely remember fantasizing that he did! I also once masturbated for him.”

“What do you mean, `for him`?”

“I left the blinds open, like I said, and then put my knees up, spread my legs, and touched myself with the lights on.”

“So he could see you finger yourself?”

“Well, he would have been behind my head, so he couldn’t see my pussy. But I hope he saw my hand was down there.

“Once I did my little undress / dress show and put on a black nightie. In the morning when I heard he was coming down the stairs, I ran out wearing it to `run into him`.”

“And what happened?”

“Nothing, ha! He said hello in his usual charming self. I just hoped that if he saw it up close, that it would help his fantasy.”

“Saw what?”

“The outfit I put on for him the night before!”

“Do you think he was having fantasies about you?”

“Well, I know he was!”

“He told you? In the stairwell?”

“No. A few weeks later. This sort of teasing back and forth went on for a few weeks – or months? Who knows. 2020, am I right?”

“Back and forth? He was teasing you back?”

“Well, he started coming to sit outside or window at night even when he wasn’t grilling. So I told myself he was coming for the show. So maybe he wasn’t teasing me – I was teasing myself with the idea that he liked looking at my body. I was learning a whole new kind of pleasure.”

“What do you mean? Like different strokes?”

“Haha, such a man thing to say. `Different strokes for different folks!` That’s not what I mean, though I suppose I often vary how I touch myself depending on the mood. But in this case, I mean more that these fantasies about him were on my mind quite often, so I was at a new basis level of arousal – basically all the time. More wet spots on my panties when I changed at night, that sort of thing. Being significantly more aroused by the time I first touched myself was a new experience for me, and I had a lot of fun with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess it was liberating in a way. It made me really like my body. For example, one day Alex was out for a few hours, and I got myself really worked up watching him work out outside my window. I turned on some music and started dancing in front of my mirror. I could look around the corner out the window and still watch him, then I’d go back to myself in the mirror and make some very sexual motions with my body. I had never really done that – you know, like when guys make that stupid thrusting motion with their friends.”

“Right. We do that all the time.”

“Haha surely! Anyway, I started pulling up my shirt, and I liked seeing my tummy. I pulled my shorts down a little to make it `riskier`. I started getting hot – I thought I looked really sexy.

“I took my shorts off and danced in just a shirt. It was a bigger shirt, so you couldn’t really see that I wasn’t wearing any bottoms. That was sexy to me. I felt like he would like it because I liked it.

“I looked at my butt in the mirror. I pulled my shirt up a bit to show it to myself. I turned around, and gyrated my hips, pulling the shirt up more so I could look at my muff. I didn’t even look at him anymore at that point. I was really just enjoying myself – literally.

“I took my shirt off completely and kept gyrating, dancing way more freely than I usually do. I always thought Alex would prefer it if I had bigger boobs, but at that instant, watching them jiggle, I figured he was a pretty lucky guy.”

“Do you remember what song was playing?”

“Ha! I do remember at that very instant Shania Twain came on and I just laughed out loud and went to my phone to skip it. That’s when I saw him doing squats, facing the window, and I was suddenly embarrassed. I was caught off guard, completely naked, right in front of him. But in that moment, invigorated by my own sexiness, I did something that I never thought I would be able to.”

“What’s that?”

“I waved at him – a very obvious wave. I wanted to see if he could see me. He didn’t wave back, and he was always very enthusiastic about saying hi, so I figured he couldn’t. Maybe since it was brighter out than in my room? So I started dancing there, naked, facing him. But I skipped the song first!”

“What came on next?”

“Ha. `Disco Tits` by Tove Lo.”

“Ha! I love it”

“Yeah, I was in the right mood kaçak iddaa for it. I had started to sweat. I started feeling the music – I know it sounds cliche. But it was electrifying. I looked right at his face and started touching myself. I ran my hands down along my body. Tracing the sides of my tits, then down to my hips, and along the front of my thighs.

“I rubbed my butt. Gripped my cheeks – the way I like it. Spread them, then let them go. I ran my hands up my lower back and felt the moisture of my own hot sweat. I looked down at my nipples and watched myself pinch them. And then I played with them while I looked at him. He was just sitting there – holding a squat. I thought for a second that we had made eye contact. I got this burning sensation on my chest – an instant shot of anxiety – like when you jolt yourself awake from an intense dream. But it only turned me on more.

“It was so utterly exhilarating. I was basically panting. I could feel my heartbeat throbbing in my neck. He was still holding that squat, Jesus Christ!

“I ran my hands down very slowly to my pussy. I wanted to come up from below, so I traced around it at first, onto the front of my thighs, and then I turned my fingers in so I could come up the inside of my thighs. I was soaking wet with sweat – or so I thought at first. It turns out I was literally dripping. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gotten that wet.

“The song seemed to get louder. I spread my legs a bit, and thrust my hips forward. I was surprised that I could smell myself, and it smelled fucking great. My chest tightened up again. Was he staring at me? I was staring right at him, breathing fast and loud. With one hand, I pulled up on my clit, and I got the fingers on the other hand nice and wet, and then started rubbing my raised clit as fast as I could with them, pushing my hips forward. My glutes were on fire and my legs were shaking.

“I looked right at his eyes. I told myself he wished he could see me. I remember looking down as I furiously rubbed myself, smearing my juices all over. My boobs were jiggling with the strokes and I felt like I really loved them very much. I loved myself. I was really fucking sexy.

“I rubbed faster and faster, pulling at myself to expose my clit more. My heart was pounding in my chest. Sweat was dripping down my lower back. I let myself moan with each breath. I was really close to coming, but I was just holding it back as hard as I could. I wanted to explode.

“Then he finally got up from his squat, and walked a bit towards the window. I could only see him from the chest down now. He was fidgeting with the draw string on his shorts, moving his legs about a bit. I remember saying, `Oh yes, baby. You can dance with me`. I said it out loud!

“I had this sudden urge to pee – and I swear that I saw a bulge in his shorts. Had he been watching this whole time? I closed my eyes and pictured him giving me his cock. That’s when I lost it. Now *that* was a memorable orgasm.

“My legs just turned to jello, and I nearly fell onto the floor. The second I stopped holding back, I feel like my pussy wanted to jump out of me, and I squirted. That hadn’t happened in a very long time.

“I stood there for a minute, hunched over the bed, looking at my wet pubic hair, coming down from that ride. A few minutes later I crawled onto the bed, and almost immediately fell asleep.

“Sounds intense.”

“It most definitely was. It had been years since I’d had an orgasm like that.”

“Then what happened?”

“Well, we kept living. He did his thing, I did my thing; I thought about sucking his cock and I sure as hell hope he thought about eating my pussy!”

“Haha, I bet he did!”

“Yeah – we’ll get to that. I felt really, really good about myself. I guess it was delusional? I wasn’t actually doing anything, it was all just manufactured in my head. I had allowed this fantasy to be an unspoken, secret reality.”

“Sounds like there’s more?”

“Oh yes, there’s more. Over the next few weeks, things proceeded as before. I did my little shows for him, he did his little shows for me. No more crazy private masturbation shows on my part, though.”

“Did he do any masturbation shows for you?”

“No. But I did catch him watching me move the laundry from the washer to the drier. It wasn’t much of a show, though. And once, I caught him in there hanging out with just my laundry, hahah. I liked that he was snooping around.

“But I would go through these waves of horniness, and with them, the fantasy, too, would ebb. I didn’t do anything as dramatic as dance naked for myself again, but I did do things like lay under the covers for hours just gently caressing myself, thinking about the things he may do to me if I let him. I had never done that before – never spent so much time and energy on my own pleasure.

“And then, one day, it happened.”

“What happened?”

“I made him touch me. I asked him to make me cum, the way I wanted to cum. Well, I didn’t force him, of course!”

“Well, certainly kaçak bahis if I had been in his position, I would need no forcing!”

“Yeah, it didn’t take any effort at all. I just asked him to.”

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything. I had started to see him sitting out in the yard in the morning, too. I suppose he was hoping for a morning show as well. So one evening, after he had left his post, I moved his chair away from my window – so I could tell when he moved it back. I woke up early the next morning, full of deviant excitement.

“Alex was still fast asleep when I started to caress myself. I had just washed the sheets – I loved the way they felt against my skin when they were freshly clean. I slowly wiggled around under them, so they could caress my body. I ran my fingers along my sides as I meditated, focusing on my breathing, on my heat, on my vulva.

“I ran a fingertip through my bush, slowly tracing little swirls on my mound. I ran it along the joint between my pussy and my leg. I rested my palm over my slit and squeezed my legs around it.

“The other hand was wondering throughout, caressing my face, my neck, my lips…and then my breasts, and eventually my ass – another first for me in 2020.”

“You had never done anything there?”

“Nope! I was one of those that thought it was a dirty hole and no fun belonged there! But idle hands…”

“Haha yes, of course. What was it like?”

“Just light touches, especially on the gap from my vagina to my anus. Sometimes when I’d spread my cheeks, I’d make sure a finger on the grabbing hand went a bit too far – teasing. I suppose.”

“Right. OK, so you’re still in bed…”

“Exactly, yes, back to the story. The hand that was resting on my vulva was getting very warm there. The one touching my ass was making my chest glow like a furnace. All my movements were slow and gentle at this point, as I didn’t want to wake Alex up.”

“Because you didn’t want him to know?”

“Oh, not at all. I often fantasized that he would catch me masturbating and fuck the shit out of me. But in this case, I didn’t want him to interrupt my meditation. I wanted to focus entirely on myself, and the possibility that I would have a spectator for when I finally decided to let go.”

“Ah yes. OK, so then what happened?”

“Alex did wake up, hahaha! He stumbled to the bathroom and then said he’d make breakfast. That was good news for me. Also good news was that the sun was starting to peek in. The sun is usually what seemed to bring this guy out in the mornings.

“So I focused again, and now, with the bed empty, I was free to move however I pleased. I tuned out the coffee grinder, the refrigerator door opening and closing. I turned onto my stomach and straddled Alex’s pillow. It reminded me of being a teenager – when I first discovered all this.

“But, unlike when I was a girl, I put the corner of the other pillow in my mouth. I drove my hips into the pillow, kept one finger on my ass, and with the other hand, I just pulled myself apart, gripped at my skin – calculated moves meant to expose me more to the pillow.

“The sound of my exhales impinging on the pillow at my face kept my rhythm. I visualized the flow of energy coming through my body with each breath – with each gyration. I watched the heat build inside me. I was a power plant, releasing energy into the world with each grip and stroke of my pussy.

“My favorite part of this whole meditative method was the discovery of my physical arousal. It was all about a very gentle buildup before I touched anywhere near my vagina. When I finally did, and found out how wet I was, it was like a mini-orgasm. I was getting a satisfaction – separate than the physical pleasure I was giving myself through this exercise – a pleasure that I was pleasuring myself – not sure if that makes sense.”

“No, I get it.”

“I must have been going now for a good hour and a half – with maybe 15 minutes on my stomach. And then it happened.”

“You came?”

“Haha oh lord no, far from it. He came. Down to his chair that is.”

“Ah!”

“I had my eyes closed and I sensed the light change as his long morning shadow swept across my wriggling body. I paused. Attentive. And I heard him move the chair back. I opened my eyes to confirm. I could only see his knees at this point.

“I got up, looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. I peeked at the kitchen to see the breakfast progress. Then I raised the blinds quickly, so as to announce it, and stood back in a shadow. He had turned his head away, as to not get caught – how silly! I waited for him to look back to the window, and then I bent over in front of him, showing him my ass. I spread it for him – well, I should say, I spread it for myself – but so that he could see it. I wanted it to be obvious that this was not a morning stretch.

“I partially stood up, and looked back at him. He perked up. I gave him one of those `It’s OK` looks. He adjusted his posture and waited anxiously. Then I walked to the window, opened it, and made my way onto it, as if I were going to crawl out – but I just left my ass out. The air was chilly. I could hear the birds, the rustling of the leaves in a gentle breeze. And I turned my head to look at him.

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