The Nosey Neighbor
We had only met in passing and had never formally introduced ourselves. He seemed shy and reserved and always in a hurry. I didn’t know his name or anything else about him, and yet I felt intrigued by him. I came to enjoy our nights at when I would walk by and see him standing there. Watching. Waiting. I always pretended as if I never saw him. I came to wonder if perhaps he was watching and learning about me the same as I had with him. Through people I learned he had lived alone for quite some time now and was very dedicated to his work. He had never been married or had any children. Rumor had it he was extremely friendly but very private as well. He always appeared kind and quite the gentleman, so I could not wrap my finger around why he was so unlucky in love. The more I thought about him standing out there in the shadows, the exhibitionist in me found the thought of a handsome young voyeur exciting. I planned my next move accordingly. A surprise he would not soon forget.
As night approached, I grew tense. could not come soon enough. My blood was bubbling over with excitement. As the sun faded I found myself in a soft red turtleneck sweater and nothing else. The feeling of the soft fabric against my skin drove me wild. The anticipation made my breathing erratic and I could hardly control my hands from caressing the tight sweater. I chose a bold color he could not help but notice me in. To me, red was the color of lust and I wanted to paint a beautiful picture for him with my body. Living art, pressed against a windowsill. Begging to be touched and willing to tease.
With a thud of the door and light footsteps, I knew he would be there waiting. This time he would not be disappointed. In total darkness I watched him disappear under the large sycamore and become camouflaged in its branches. With the few flicks of his lighter I saw his concentrated gaze transfixed towards me. It was pitch black in my apartment, but I could feel his eyes attempting to seek out any sign of me. He no doubt had heard my footsteps upstairs, so he was aware I was home and awake. He shuffled beneath the tree a bit and smoked two cigarettes clean through which was a rare occasion. As he attempted to light the third, I could see a look of disappointment on his face. I knew this was my time.
I struck the match and lit three candles by the windowsill. Each gave off just enough light to illuminate the curves of my body and cast shadows against the naked walls. With that I peered into the dead of night pretending not to notice him stepping deeper into the void and concealing himself behind the tree while cupping the small flame beneath his palm so that I would not notice. I stood there and let him take me all in. I looked to the night sky fully illuminated by the moon and thousands of stars. The crisp night air made my breasts erect under the sweater and my nipples were swollen from them rubbing against the material. My long hair blew in the gentle breeze and tickled he backs of my thighs. My hands found their way up to my turtleneck and I gently pulled and tugged at the constraining material, folding it and unfolding it over and over again against my face and neck. I saw him grind out the butt of the cigarette against the tree, and yet he remained. I knew I had his full attention. It excited me even more to know he was watching me that I began to caress the sweater into my skin feeling aroused by every fiber. I stretched the fabric down to my naked thighs and let out a tiny moan as the material tickled my sensitive flesh. My hips rocked back and forth as I cupped my full breasts and my fingertips traced every stitch beneath them. The illuminated silhouette of my sweatered body dipped and swayed to the gentle music as every luscious curve was enhanced by the candles glow. The material clung to my most intimate of places and became almost transparent. In a smooth circular motion I turned to expose my plump backside before pulling the sweater taut over it. I then turned and lifted the red front exterior to slightly expose the fleshy bottoms of my sweatered mounds before squeezing them together in rapture. I began rubbing and pulling the sweater into regions yet unseen by him and my moans carried with the wind. I began pressing myself against the veil of glass that separated me from his touch. I bit at the turtleneck as the waves of pleasure ran through me. I choked myself with the tightness of the collar. My skin began to burn and my thighs became weak. I shuddered beneath my tantalizing garment wondering what he was thinking or doing. I couldn’t control my body anymore. I felt possessed by some hidden power as I buried my flesh deep within the sweater and concealed my screams in its collar. Every movement and touch was pure ecstasy. My breathing became deep and my moans louder, but just as my hands began to find their way slowly to my nether regions… I blew out the candles one by one.
I stood in complete darkness and silence and waited for his next move. But he waited, first one hour, then two. He wanted an encore. He puffed one cigarette after another watching and waiting for my return until he had emptied his entire pack. He finally broke from the shadows and stumbled back inside when he finally realized the show was over. The thoughts of what he did or wanted to do beneath that sycamore as he watched me have haunted my dreams. When we bump into each other in the hall he blushes from ear to ear, but neither of us have mentioned a word about it. Now every night he makes it a point to linger around longer than usual in case of a new showing. Sometimes he even shows up a little early just to make sure he doesn’t miss a thing. But I love teasing him and making him wonder when my sweater-clad body will once again be on display for his private viewing. I believe I have made a sweater lover out of him. Now… its time for tonight’s performance…
