I'd seen Karen out and about a hundred times. A couple of times, I briefly interacted with her. She lives in a house behind my apartment building. My second-floor back windows overlook the back of her home and pool. A tall, old wooden fence separates our properties. The neighbors might as well be a mile apart. I must walk the main road and cut through a connecting trail sidewalk to get to her street. Though I don't look out my windows often, during the warm months of the year, seeing her and others sitting under the patio overhang or lounging in the pool is a common sight.
Karen is around 35 years old, with shoulder-length brown hair that beautifully swings from her 5'10" frame. She is thin, although not painfully so. I didn't see Karen often the first year I lived at the apartment. It was a matter of timing. I did see her in front of her house a few times as I walked by at odd hours.
Observing neighbors from an unseen vantage point sometimes offers body language that is easily interpreted. The man I presumed to be her boyfriend or husband wasn't at home as often as Karen. When he was, he didn't seem to be the sort who enjoyed sitting on the back patio, even when others were enjoying the pool. Karen sometimes brought a book out and sat on the long couch nestled against the back of the house. Other times, she seemed to merely sit and enjoy the moment. The height of my apartment building provided a lot of respite from the sun in the early evening.
I have not seen the presumptive man in her life this summer. However, I have noticed that Karen is outside alone much more often. Over the last few weeks, Karen has been in the backyard more frequently, most of the time wearing a bright white two-piece bikini. Though she's missing some of the curves I enjoy in a woman, she has a great body.
Two Saturdays ago, I looked out the back window to see if the squirrels had devoured all the dried corn I'd left them. I froze when I looked toward the couch and the patio doors of the house. Karen was half-sitting on the couch, her legs splayed. Her robe was open, revealing pink panties and a black bra. Although I should have looked away, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I let my eyes adjust to the morning shade under her overhang. She held a book open with one hand, reading it. There was no mistaking that her right hand was inside her panties. I watched her move slightly for several minutes. I could see more movement in her hips as they rose slightly off the couch. Without warning, she threw the book to the side, reached down, and pulled her panties down to the top of her thighs as she lifted her butt. One hand went back to her clit, and the other went behind her head. I could see her stomach muscles contracting and releasing. She raised her hips from the couch as her fingers circled her clit frantically. After a few moments, her butt once again rested. She remained like that for a couple of minutes as she panted.
Because of the screen and the lighting, it would be almost impossible for her to see me standing in the bedroom window. It was the "almost" of it that turned me on. I knew it was a risk. I am not a peeper. But the primordial part of my brain recognized that if she would risk masturbating where people might see her, she certainly wouldn't be calling the police. If her husband or boyfriend were still in the picture, likely, she wouldn't be running to them to say that she'd been spied on masturbating by the pool. It occurred to me that she couldn't know if I had taken pictures or video, either. It was reasonable to conclude that part of the sexual thrill was that someone might be watching her.
Karen casually stood up and removed her robe, ostensibly to re-arrange it across her body. She stretched and realized that her panties were still down to her thighs. Karen pulled them up and turned sideways. Her breasts hung nicely as she extended her arms. It dawned on me that her pose couldn't be accidental. I decided that I was imagining things. Karen walked over to the pool's edge, sticking her big toe into the water. When she removed her foot, she walked across the end of the pool and bent to pick up a pool noodle that had escaped to the grass.
Without warning, she looked directly up at my window and waved. I froze. After a couple of seconds, I waved back. Karen smiled from ear to ear and waved again. She sauntered back to the patio and returned inside the house.
Unsurprisingly, I found myself looking out my back window often for the days that followed. All my sexual fantasies revolved around the memory of Karen arching her back as she made herself cum. Knowing she was aware that she had an observer made it that much more delicious.
Last Friday, I looked out the back window toward the fence to see if Karen might be outside again. It pained me to imagine that she had repeated the orgasm without me being aware of it. On the top of the wooden fence between our properties, someone had used chalk to write: "0700Sat." I gulped. Although I am known to use chalk to write impromptu messages everywhere, it seemed to be no coincidence that the message might be for me. That afternoon, I walked around my building with a piece of chalk and climbed one of the broken tree stumps. Reaching over, I noted, "OK" on Karen's side of the fence.
.
...
At 6:45 a.m., I sat on the end of my bed, looking toward Karen's patio doors. Those minutes stretched to eternity. It was difficult for me to resist making myself cum. Imagination does exotic things to one's sex drive.
At 6:58, the back patio door slid open. Karen emerged. Her long hair was in a ponytail. She wore her robe. She held a bag in her hand. I expected her to once again sit on the couch. She didn't. Instead, she walked across the grass and stood a few feet from the fence. She waved. I stood and waved back. Karen laughed and smiled. Karen turned back toward the house and moved a chaise chair to face me. She put one leg on each side of the chair and unfastened her robe. She was naked underneath.
I had a flash of inspiration. I walked quickly into the kitchen and removed a small hand-held laser. Pointing it through the window, I saw that the red beam from the laser reached her thigh. She gave me a thumbs-up and laughed again.
Karen opened the bag and removed what appeared to be a vibrator. She moved her hand and turned it on. Leaning back in the chair, she touched herself with the tip of the vibrator as her other hand touched the inside of her thighs. She continued doing this for three or four minutes. She then moved her left leg slightly up, and I watched her as she buried the vibrator inside of herself. I almost came at the sight of watching her. She began to slowly move the vibrator in and out as her fingers worked around her clit. After a minute, she pressed her head sideways into the back of the chair. Her hips were visibly rising to meet the vibrator as it went inside. She then pushed it all the way in and began to work her clit with both hands. I recognized the moment her orgasm washed over her. Her hips bucked slightly with each spasm. After a few moments, she stopped moving and lay on full display. The vibrator was still inside her. I desperately wanted to hold it in her, moving it to her satisfaction.
I couldn't help myself. I pulled my shorts down and began pumping. My mind was almost blank from the need to finish while watching. When I was getting close, Karen pulled the vibrator out and held it up. She sat up unexpectedly and then stood up, holding up her right index finger. She was telling me to wait one moment. She walked back inside naked. In about twenty seconds, she returned with a piece of cardboard. On it was scrawled, "Your turn to cum." She then laid down again on the chair, her legs wide open. She once again moved her fingers across her clit.
Although she couldn't see me clearly, I imagined she was watching me as my hand moved faster and faster. The first spurt sailed out of me and bounced off the window. Each subsequent spasm felt like a river coming out of me. Twenty seconds later, my orgasm was depleted. I was raggedly breathing as if I'd fucked her. I shakily used the laser to point at Karen's thighs again. She gave me the thumbs up and motioned with two fingers as if to say, "Give me a second." Karen's hands flew across her clit. In a few seconds, she came again. I continued to pump myself. Watching her cum again made me even harder.
Karen caressed her stomach, thighs, and nipples softly. Her legs were still splayed open, brazenly letting me see her. After a few minutes, she stood up, walked to the pool, and dived in the water. I watched her swim. She turned over and put a pool noodle under her arms. She floated with her legs spread and her nipples jutting up in the air. I sat on the edge of my bed and continued to watch. My dick was still hard, and I ignored the mess I'd made.
Karen swam to the pool's edge and hoisted herself out of the water. Her body was on full display. She put her hands on her hips and made a complete turn, presumably for my viewing pleasure.
She walked back over to her reclining chair and straddled it. She bent her knees and positioned the vibrator below her, the tip nearly touching her pussy. She slowly lowered herself onto it, and I watched as it went all the way inside of her. She leaned back in the chair and slowly worked it inside and out. She raised her right hand, circled, and then held up two fingers. Round two was being requested.
I stood up next to the window and slowly pumped myself. She took her time, running her free hand across her nipples and back down to her clit. I could tell she was prolonging it, knowing I was admiring her body and fantasizing about touching her. After a few minutes of this, she pulled the vibrator free and stood up. She turned her body and put her knees on the chair. Her ass faced me. She used one hand to reach between her legs and finger herself. I almost came at the sight of her.
Instead, I pumped a little slower and watched her approach her orgasm. I could see that her hips were gyrating more and more as her fingers touched and entered. Karen turned her head to the left, knowing I was watching her. She smiled, and then her head went down. Her hips bucked hard as the orgasm started. Her fingers furiously rubbed and touched. I came immediately. Though I expected less sensation than with the first orgasm, I came hard. Jet after jet of cum shot out of me and landed on the wall and floor. Karen turned and laid on the chair again, this time with her legs stretched out in front of her on the chair.
I laughed when she held up a thumb high and smiled.
I couldn't resist the temptation. I pulled up the window and softly shouted, "Thank you!"
Karen lay like that for a few minutes. Finally, she stood up, waved, and returned to the house.
...
