"Just a normal black coffee"
She remembered that it was those words that first caught her attention. Too many men who tried to convey a sense of power by ordering half decaf double cappuccinos or Sumatra Santos blends, and then he orders just plain black coffee.
Tammy had gone to the coffee shop a few times and was there enough now to recognize the servers and she met the owner once or twice. A small little place that you wouldn't notice if you weren't looking for it, but the coffee there was the best in town. The shop had a steady stream of regulars that she noticed, but when this one man came in, she'd hoped he would come back.
Not just his unpretentious coffee preference, but his bearing, his attitude was intriguing. He half flirted with the girl behind the counter, and the owner greeted him like an old friend. As the man got his coffee, he settled into a chair next to the window and opened small leather bound black notebook. He would jot a few notes, look around, and write a little more. She even once caught him looking at her as he wrote. Instead of the embarrassed quick turn away that most people do, he merely smiled and nodded. Regardless of what he did, it was backed with a subtle self-confidence that was rare. Not an arrogance, but quite sure of himself.
She was also drawn to his book. He seemed to be writing in it constantly, but she had no clue as to what he was writing. It couldn't be just a journal, because he looked around too much, searching, seeking the world for something that would spur the next few words he put down. She wondered what he wrote the time he was looking at her. It had to be more than just the day's thoughts and observances. Once she had walked past, trying to peer over his shoulder. It wasn't a schedule either...Words on a page...but she couldn't make out the sentence or more than a few words.
And then this morning...Fate began her games and for whatever reason, the mysterious writer left his book on the table when he left. Tammy sat staring at it nearly five minutes debating what to do. Finally rationalizing that she should pick it up before someone else did, she walked past and scooped it up as she left. In the front seat of her car she kept looking at it, wondering whether to open it, using the search for a name and address so that she could return it as an excuse. On the inside front cover was the name Jeff Allen...and the address was across the street from her apartment! This was too eerie to be true.
She told herself she would take it over to him with dinner. A way to make an introduction "Hi...you left your book and I brought you some food"... the more she held it though, the greater the temptation to read evens just a little bit.
"No...its his private writings...it could be his diary of sorts…it would be wrong." She told herself over and over. And then she would equally argue the permission for reading just one little bit. Finally just before going to bed that night, with the book on her nightstand, she gave in to voyeurism and opened to the first entry.
I can see her in her window; talking on the phone, walking around as she laughs with her friend on the other end. Her eyes twinkle when she laughs. I wonder what her voice is like, how could I call her without knowing her. Maybe just call and say it was a wrong number.
She started to get undressed, I watched as she pulled her shirt off, and was glad to see she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples are such a rosy pink. The air wasn't cold enough to make them hard instantly, but I think she likes going topless. She seemed so natural, so relaxed. I nearly lost it when she wiggled out of her panties. She didn't bend over to push them down, she slid them down just enough to get past her hips, then let them fall, wiggling her hips to help them down. She just stepped out of them… leaving them there on the floor. I wish more women were more comfortable with their bodies like she was.
I finally gave in when she took out her vibe when she went to bed. She just lay back on her bed and started with her fingers, rubbing her pussy and pulling at her nipples. It only took her a few moments to get worked up enough to slide the vibe in. Eyes closed, mouth parted in deep drawn breaths as she pleasured herself. I was stroking myself without evening know it…my hands falling in rhythm with hers.
She started to arch her back, and grabbed at the sheets with her free hand. Her knees came up and she was really working that vibe on herself. I was pumping for all I was worth, and hit my climax just seconds before she hit hers. I wanted to call her… to tell her how I was watching her, joining her, how close we came to cumming together. Maybe some day…..Probably not.
Tammy found herself aroused and thinking about her mystery man. He seemed so respectable and nice in the store. Hell, how did she know what he was… here he's a peeping tom by his own admission, getting off watching some woman in her bed. She looked down to realize she had slipped her hand beneath the waist band of her panties, and had a finger working inside her. Ok…so maybe perversion is contagious. What the hell…she reached for her vibrator, and wallowed in her guilty pleasures. "I'll take the book to him tomorrow at the coffee shop " she promised herself as she slipped into her post orgasm dreams.
The next morning, she read another entry over breakfast. He recounted how he watched her getting ready for a date. Her hurried preparations and indecision as she tried different outfits and various hairstyles. He gave a silent approval of her final dress choice, and made note of his slight jealousy when the guy showed up. Though he watched a moment as they made out on the couch, as it became obvious they were headed to the bedroom, the writer gave her privacy for the time. Seems there are some lines even voyeurs don't cross.
Tammy carried the images in her mind as she showered. The idea of someone watching and fantasizing from afar was an equal mix of disturbing and arousing. Evidently this Jeff Allen wasn't all creepy stalker guy, just some one who liked to watch this woman he found. She doubted he would end up on America's Most Wanted for abducting her, but she wondered what the woman would say if she found out. Would she find him sexy and fulfill his fantasies? Would she find it invasive and intrusive, yelling at him and calling the cops? Tammy even wondered what she would do if Jeff were watching her. Reading his words, seeing that he was more talk that action, would she let him watch, maybe even teasingly putting on a show for him. She smiled beneath the water and lathered her body, exaggerating the motions as if displaying herself to her pretend watcher. The imaginations were fun, and she let herself play with it. When the water turned cold, she got out, and toweled herself off, wrapping the terry cloth around her head and walking through the apartment wearing nothing else. If he weren't watching, she'd be giving someone a show. She dressed and headed to the coffee shop, hoping to see him there.
"Jennifer, have you seen that guy who comes in all the time with the black notebook?"
The tall brunette behind the counter turned around "Oh you mean Jeff…. You just missed him actually. He came in looking for it then had to run to check for other places that he might have left it. He seemed pretty desperate to get it back too."
"Well, if he comes back, could you give him my cell phone number. I picked up yesterday by accident." She jotted it down on her business card and handed it over.
"Great he'll be happy to hear it. He treasures that book as if it were a child. He's a writer you know."
Tammy merely nodded trying not to reveal how much she knew of his writing. "I wondered. Well, maybe he'll let me read some of his stuff when I get his book back."
"Maybe…he's a really nice guy. I'll call him and let him know you have it."
"Great awesome…. Well gotta run." Tammy headed back to her car and called in sick to work. If she was going to have to give up the book, she wanted a little more time with it. She flipped to what seem to be the next entry, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge as she settled down on her couch.
I watched her again today. I'm so transfixed by her. I know that this is illegal and probably listed as deviant behavior, but I can't keep my eyes off of her. The way she walks around in nothing at all. I don't know if she knows how beautiful she is. I keep thinking of her in terms of works of art or songs or sculptures. God how did I get so sappy and worked up over a woman I had never met.
