I had walked by that window of my house many times and nothing had caught my eye. It was the small cubbyhole we called the dining room and just looked out on the side of your house. Although there were three windows on that side of our house, there was only one on yours, the laundry room I discovered, and my dining room window was directly across from yours.
Normally, the drapes were shut in your window, probably why I never knew what the room was until today. Maybe it was seeing movement in that window that caught my eye.
I was a good six feet from the window, but the movement, whatever, that caught my attention cried of flesh. I stopped in mid-step, backed up a half step and concentrated on the small opening in my curtain facing the open window in your house. There you stood, olive skinned beauty, completely naked, ironing something, who knows what the hell it was and I didn't care.
I moved closer to the window and opened my curtain just a little wider for a better view. I stayed to the side so as to be as hidden from your view as possible. It was amazing. As long as I had lived in the house, and especially since you and I had become smoking buddies in the shop side of my basement, I had envisioned you naked. You were so curvaceous, with large, firm breasts, a small waist and beautiful hips. You had a full head of dark brunette hair, thick eyebrows and wonderful full lips.
My daydreams, I found, were completely inadequate. The ironing board fell just below your hips. Your body was everything I had imagined before and more and those curvaceous hips framed a full, dense bush, the entire view of which was cut by the board. As you bent over to iron, your breast hang like fruit above the bush and I was mesmerized. Even at that distance, I could see your nipples were hard and, as I was studying the erotic image in front of me, you seemed, I thought, to glance up. I moved quickly behind the curtain and you went about your chore. In a matter of seconds it seemed, you finished, walked around the ironing board to the window, reached up as far as you could with both arms, each grabbing a side of the curtain and giving me one last arousing look and, then, closing the curtains on my show.
For several minutes, I seemed frozen in my place. I couldn't move. Did you know I had been there. If so, were you excited by my presence or were you now angry at your neighbor with who you once were so free with your hugs and a peck on the cheek. I don't know how long I stood there, perplexed by the last few minutes, but it was broken up by the sound of the doorbell.
I wandered to the door, still deep in thought, turned the knob and pulled it to me to find you standing on the other side of the storm door. You were wearing a tight white cotton t-shirt, that showed your scrumptious belly button and dark brown, hard nipples, and a pair of sweats that I now knew road barely above the curls that covered your sex. Several stolen glances revealed a few errant hairs that climbed to the bottom of your navel. It was definitely not what you had been ironing.
