I’ve been on my own now for only a few years, loving every minute of it. Solitude was becoming my fast friend. Of course there were things I missed about being attached to someone or something, certain luxuries that only appear when you’re with someone. But the one thing that I missed most was sex. Two and a half years without physical contact was slowly killing me inside. I tried getting involved with guys from work or guys that I talked to at parties, but I always found some small quirk about them that made me loose interest. For this I totally blame Richard.
I dated Richard for almost five years, all through high school and part of college. I was in heaven until I found out he was sleeping with other people, men mostly. I felt betrayed, hurt, and like I could never trust a penis again. Locked in self-doubt about what had turned him to homosexuality, I became depressed for the first year we were apart. Then one day a friend of mine told me, simply, that it was not my fault. I didn’t do anything to make Richard turn to men, that’s just what he felt more drawn to. Ridding myself of suicidal pressures and stress was easy.
I took up running to clear my head, left all meat out of my diet, and became sort of a health-nut. But with all my self-improvements, I still couldn’t get past the no trust issue. Therapists say that once an important male figure in your life scars you, it’s hard to regain control. Boy, was that ever true.
I figured moving halfway across the state would help. It didn’t. I tried every kind of dating and sexual healing workshops that I could find. None of it worked. I became angry at the male species in general, but the thoughts of turning towards women never entered my mind. I loved the male sex organ, the very same thing I hated.
When I finally began dating a man from work for longer than two dates, he broke it off. Telling myself to not become depressed, I emerged myself into redecorating my apartment. Putting in a large half-picture window in my kitchen proved to be the best self-help tool.
Tony, forever known as the man across the alley, moved in about the same time I was redecorating. The large window was situated so I could look out of it while doing dishes. Coincidentally it also faced Tony’s apartment. Or more specifically, Tony’s bedroom.
On the day he moved in, I was doing the few dishes that I had to clean. I looked up and saw a very handsome specimen of man carrying a large box into the room and as he set it down, I watched the muscles in his back and the chords of his biceps, flex under the strain. Never had I been so turned on by such a menial action. I dismissed it as a feeling of sexual denial, only a reaction to the lack of sex in almost three years.
When he began putting his bed frame together, I could only watch his shirtless torso flex and move according to nature. I wondered how it would move under my fingertips. Would my touch cause his skin to tremble? Would he sigh in anticipation and ask for more? My mind played dirty tricks on me and I found myself wetting my lips, an action I only did when I was aroused. I noticed my nipples had become erect, reacting to the chemicals my body was producing. I turned back to look at him again. He was staring at me. I backed away with a blush and began working on my apartment again, veering away from the kitchen window.
When night fell, I got the nerve to look out the window again. Tugging nervously on a strand of my dark auburn hair. What I saw was even more breath taking. Tony had just emerged from his bathroom, only with a towel wrapped around his waist. Wet and glistening, my fantasy Grecian god was just walking barefoot over to his window. Again he caught me staring. Smiling up at me with a half-smile he yanked his towel away from him. As it fell to the floor, so did I. Turning a horrible shade of red, from embarrassment and sexual excitement, I crouched on my haunches. Counting to twenty I slowly rose enough to peek out the window. He was gone. Breathing a sigh of relief and disappointment I went to sit on my couch. Lazily daydreaming, I had fantasies of this man driving me wild. Sitting up when I saw a light go on across the alley. Feeling like I had taken and not given in return, I stripped. Walking to my window naked, I stood in front of it proudly. Tony, dressed only in surf shorts, was doing push-ups in the middle of his floor. Since he hadn’t seen me yet I could just stare.
