Thank you for clicking on my entry to the Nude Day contest. Once you begin to read, you'll notice some text messages between characters. Yes, some of the words are misspelled, that was on purpose. Please enjoy, leave a comment if you wish, and don't forget to vote.
*
We came into this world, a mass of flesh, howling our first breaths in a sterile room. From then on we were molded, formed into a blackened lump of morality. We were were swaddled within minutes, cotton blends and thoughts of ignominy. For the years to come, we stayed clothed, taught those younger to do the same. Automatons of decency, we perished the thought of anyone breaking the status quo. And when they did, we covered our jealousy with feigned outrage. Why couldn't we be like those minority that embraced nothingness? I soon learned that it was easier to do with some assistance.
It was my first week in Atlanta and while I should be experiencing some of that southern hospitality, I hid from the world. Too busy feeling sorry for myself. It was only a couple of months ago, I was on bended knee in the middle of Central Park asking for her hand in marriage. Now, I can't stand looking at large patches of grass for too long a time. At least I never made it to the altar.
I stepped out of the shower, snatching the towel off the hook. One would think that with all the weightlifting, bike riding, and basketball, I would have a severe case of narcissism, but I was the type of person who still turned out the lights when making love. That was supposed to be the reason she broke off the engagement. Sucking off a coworker played a minor part, according to her.
Cinching it tight, I left the steamy bathroom; a sudden shift in atmosphere broke me out in a rash of goosebumps. I was two steps in the bedroom when the polyphonic chirps of "Promiscuous Girl" rang out from the living room. I swiveled in place, bolted towards the phone, leaving a trail of wet footprints in my wake.
"Hello?" I blurted out even though I knew who it was. I knew damn well. My ex still called every now and then. Whether to gloat or out of pity, eight days wouldn't go by without a ring. I still can't break myself of the habit of answering. Nikki's voice was full of zest and springtime, as if she never broke an emotional foot off in my ass six weeks ago.
"Hey Shawn," she bubbled. "How's Atlanta?"
I guess she didn't realize, or didn't care, that I only came here to get away from her. It was a sudden decision, a cut in salary, but it was my solution to escape the taint of a failed relationship. Damn, I should have changed my number by now.
I gave monosyllabic replies to her queries, hoping she would take the hint, but she kept chatting, telling me all that happened in my absence. Even though I was mad at her, my body felt otherwise. As she kept talking, I swelled. The towel wasn't enough to hold back my rising phallus as I remembered our last session. It also took place in the shower. One night, Nikki lined the hallways with candles, a path I followed till I bonded with her soaked form under the pulsing shower head. While she prattled on the phone, I tried to control my breathing as I recalled the little details. The small dip in her back, water pooling inside it, trails of water sliding down the crack of her butt till it disappeared in the frenzy of my shuddered thrusts. The secure knot in my towel slipped and I didn't bother to catch it. I was caught up in memories.
I closed my eyes, picturing her hands splayed on the tiles of the shower for support, clenching at nothing as I brought her to the first of multiple orgasms. It sounded so perfect; so why am I ten states away, dripping naked in my living room?
"I hope everything is working out for you. I feel bad how it ended, you know?"
I snapped my eyes open and took the phone away from my ear. Did she just give me that line of bullshit? I tried to form the vile thoughts that flashed through my mind into words, but came up empty. I could only stare off into space, which led me out my bay window. I forgot to close the curtains when I came in, they still shoved aside from this morning.
There was an apartment directly across from me with the lights on. Standing in the living room was woman with a glass of wine, and nothing else. She took a sip of wine, the color in the glass matching her hair. Smirking, she raised her glass towards me in salute. I looked down, realizing that I was saluting back in my own way.
"I gotta go." I blurted into the phone before hitting the end button. Snatching up the towel, I covered myself as I scurried out of sight. I almost slipped in the hallway in my sudden panic to hide from prying eyes. I threw on some shorts and my work shirt that hung on the doorknob from earlier, before creeping back into the living room to close my curtains.
She was still standing there, leaning against her kitchen counter. The amusement in her eyes clouded over at my reappearance. She clearly disapproved of my dressing. Lifting the glass, she drained what was left of the wine before setting it on the counter behind her. She strolled towards the window, in a slow model gait.
I would have felt like a pervert, but she knew I was here. She was a statuesque creature with a graceful gait. Her breasts might have been painted by a master, so symmetrically proportioned. Two perfect cones topped with cinnamon aureole and plump berry nipples. She was a true redhead, bush trimmed neatly in a small triangle or heart. I couldn't tell from this distance.
Absentmindedly, I licked my lips. She smirked again, resting her palms against the windowsill. I kept staring before her curtains closed with a push of the button from the remote control in her hand. Show over.
I blinked a couple of times, wondering if she might return, but the lights in her apartment went out, giving me a definitive answer. I stood there for a minute more, thinking about what just transpired before closing my own curtains and retreating back to the bedroom.
I didn't give my unintended streaking a second thought until I returned from work the next day. I was disheveled from the Southern heat and Southern traffic. I haven't learned the public transportation well enough to depend on it, so being stuck in traffic listening to right wing radio was my only solution.
I entered the apartment, jerking at my tie and pulling my shirt out of my pants when I noticed the envelope. It had been shoved under my door, sealed and blank. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands, looking for a name or address. It was expensive, bought from a stationary store. I sat on the couch and opened it. Inside was a piece of paper, just as expensive, with beautiful, handwritten calligraphy.
Don't be shamed, be free
I looked at my bay window, remembering my encounter with my neighbor from across the way. I walked to the sill and threw open the curtains. I grabbed a corner apartment that overlooked the city, if you stood to one side of the window and pressed your head to it. Directly below was the driveway that led to the underground parking garage. From the ground, no one could see me, but the identical apartment building was open season on voyeurism, about 20 feet of space separating the two buildings. The apartment curtains were closed, no sign of life.
It was a new structure, nowhere near let capacity. I shared a whole floor in my building with just two other neighbors; a retired Colonel and his wife, and a newly divorcee that was living off monthly stipends of her exes pro basketball checks.
As the setting sun shined off the roof of the Georgia dome, I set the letter down and began to make dinner. One rib-eye and three beers later, I was stripped down to my boxers and watching television. Actually, it was watching me as I quickly fell asleep.
I jerked awake to the annoying sound of an infomercial pitchman, trying to sell get hard pills to the gullible. I checked my phone for the time and was ready to sleep in a real bed. I turned off the flat screen and was about to exit the living room when I saw her.
She was in her living room, naked, again. Under her arm was a rolled up mat, her mane of fire, pulled back into a ponytail. She unfurled the mat, facing the window. She looked directly at me, a little smile drawn on her face. Not sure what to do, I gave a wave, standing in my boxers like an idiot.
She began to stretch, arms above her head, neck tilted back, giving an unabashed view of her figure. I was instantly hard, penis strained against the cotton. She leaned over, gravity swinging her breasts forward. I watched as she went through what I figured to be yoga, but I didn't know a downward dog from a farting duck.
What seemed like an eternity, I watched her twist and bend, a light sheen on her skin from the track lighting above her head. She stood up, one leg hiked up, foot rest against her knee. She opened her eyes and took a look at me with a disapproving smirk. I followed the path of her vision, down to my constricting shorts and read her mind.
After some trepidation, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down, freeing my cock. She smiled again before laying down on her back, pulling her knees up to her chest. She kept up the yoga, and I kept staring. She fin The quick play would be to get dressed, run across the alley, and fall into her vagina like a man possessed, but this was a different game and I didn't know the rules. She finished on her head, elbows on the ground for support. With amazing balance she opened her legs in a split. Her vagina opened slightly and I sucked in my breath with a sharp gasp.
I moved closer to the glass as I stared with wonderment. She stayed in that pose for another minute before standing. She rose up, grabbed a towel off the floor and began to wipe the perspiration from her face and chest. She picked up a bottle of water and began to chug, rivulets running from her mouth and down her neck. When the bottle was empty, she took another look at me, wiggled her fingers in a wave and left the living room, turning out the lights on the way out. Show over. I sighed in frustration, there was no way I was going to get back to sleep without jacking off.
The next day, the numbers on the screen were a blur as I thought about my neighbor. I stood totally naked in front of a stranger and never felt more relaxed. Counting the minutes until I got on the road, I pretended to work. When I got home, another envelope was waiting. I tore it open, not bothering to appreciate the paper this time. Inside was a Skype IM tag,
Firecrotch
, and a time, 10 PM.
I checked my watch and saw I had a few hours to kill. I cleaned up the apartment, threw something in the microwave and chased it with a few sips of liquid courage. What was going to happen tonight? As time drew near, I pulled back my curtains and picked up my phone. Looking across the street, her blinds were still shut, but I still had a few minutes. I sat on the bar stool next to the kitchen island, excited and apprehensive at the same time. I could be getting set up on America's next game show, "Who wants to look like an asshole?" My phone beeped and I picked it up.
Welcome to the neighborhood, Uptown1.
She referred to me by my screen name.
You sure know how to welcome the new guy.
:)
The sun had since set and I could see glimmers of light behind her still closed blinds. My phone beeped.
I'm thinking about opening up, are you ready?
