I have several times tried and failed to write convincingly as a man. The necessary nuance and authenticity always seemed to hover beyond my reach and I was never quite satisfied with the result. I think now I might finally have done it but I'll await your judgment on that matter. I hope you enjoy the story and I earnestly welcome all comments, favorable and otherwise.
I'm a draftsman by trade. I've worked for various architectural and contracting firms over the years, helping them to get their plans on paper. I guess because I have an eye for details and because I'm good with my hands, I'm also a pretty fair handyman. That's lucky for me because it gives me some hold-over money while I'm between drafting jobs like I am right now. It doesn't help either that I'm making alimony payments at the same time.
I was pretty lucky to find this inexpensive apartment when we first broke up and luckier yet to get a few odd jobs as a handyman early on in this part of town. That helped me build something of a reputation.
Funny thing about that though, and it's kind of the same with a good babysitter too. People are genuinely happy to know you in that capacity and are apt even to brag a little about your work but at the same time aren't really that quick to give out your name and number. They're afraid you'll get too busy to be available to them. Well at any rate, this is my life such as it is and I'm as happy as I can be right now.
I'm 41 years old, have a daughter who is with my "ex" for the time being and these days anyhow, the handyman work is keeping me busy enough. Particularly in these summer months, the work is just as apt to be outside as inside, so between that and my workouts, I keep pretty tanned and fit. At 5' 10'' and 185 pounds, if I was once a little paunchy around the middle, that's old news now. And at the risk of sounding full of myself, I'd have to say I'm at least decent in the looks department. I don't have the money to go out a lot, to pay for dates and the like so I'm often horny and I can only say thanks goodness for the internet.
That pretty much leads me to the beginning point of my tale, of how my neighbor lady got me started on building a different kind of reputation. Dorothy was maybe mid 70's. I knew her by name and vice versa but just barely, i.e. we waved but had scarcely spoken 20 words to each other in the ten months I'd been here.
I knew she had a roommate whom I'd seen enough times to recognize her face but didn't know her name, had never met her, had never even said hello. She looked to be about that same age as Dorothy but clearly she was the healthier of the two because she did all the driving, leaf raking, sweeping the walk, hauling in the groceries and so on. For all I know, she may have even been Dorothy's caretaker or some such thing.
Most of the time, my handyman jobs require me to get an early start. Often, I'm out of the apartment as the sun is coming up to get a coffee and be at the job site by 7. I can't make a lot of noise at that point because people are often still sleeping but I can begin to spread tarps, for example, if I have a painting job and be ready to go when the time is right. You get the picture.
Well for this reason, I am rarely able to get my workout done in the morning. Instead, I usually get home around 7 to 7:30, shower, open mail, nuke up a frozen dinner, try to catch some news on CNN and then around 9 or so, I do my work out. That consists of both cardio and weights. I usually do the cardio first and for me that means a stationary bike. I ride hard for 30 minutes every other day and that's followed by 15 to 20 minutes of weight training.
I rotate weight exercise so as to keep some balance in the routine. By the time I finish the bike ride, I'm usually pretty sweaty, so off comes the shirt and shorts and briefs. If you're not into weight training, you might think it's a little weird to do it in the nude but I have a big mirror that I work in front of and that's helpful in terms of motivation. It can be boring.
My apartment is two story and very small. The living room is downstairs along with the kitchen and the single bedroom and bath are upstairs. My only TV is in the living room.
One night maybe 6 weeks ago, having finished my workout, I was in the kitchen getting a glass of apple juice. I was naked as you understand. As I turned to leave the kitchen, I flicked the overhead light off and caught a glimpse of Dorothy's roommate looking at me from her dining room window.
She was leaning against her table, arms folded and standing maybe 3 feet from her window, which in turn is no more than 10 feet from mine, our houses are that close. I went on up to bed, not really giving it a lot of thought.
But the next day I thought about it a lot, off and on for most of the day to tell the truth. I wondered how long she'd been watching me. How many nights? I decided that I'd have to check this out a little and that very night wouldn't be too soon. At about the usual time, I went nude into the kitchen to get some juice. I deliberately took my time, pretending to savor the drink and stopping to rinse out the glass in the kitchen sink. I tried to make sort of a show of displaying myself.
Truth is, I was getting off on this and was hoping she was there, watching me again. I wasn't too quick to leave the kitchen this time as I flicked off the light and sure enough, there she was staring from her dining room window into my now darkened kitchen. There was a bonus this time. Dorothy was with her. It surprised me that I was a little turned on by that but was turned on nevertheless. I was excited that they were going out of their way to see me naked. I liked it. I went upstairs and jerked off.
The next night, presuming they were both watching me again, I couldn't help but becoming aroused. As my pole stiffened and boldly established itself, I made no attempt at modesty. I didn't think they were yet aware that I knew they were there. I decided to provide a little tease.
As I leaned against the kitchen table with my juice in one hand, I began to casually play with myself with the other hand; nothing vigorous, just a few slow, almost nonchalant strokes. I intentionally limited that to a few seconds, stopped to wash out the glass and pretended to leave the room, flicking the light out as I went.
Sure as hell, they were both there and were visible to me in the ambient light leaking in from their living room. They couldn't see me looking back at them. One of them got up, came over and pressed her face to the window to try to see if there was anything else to watch. Clearly they were hooked but so was I.
Funny, I had never thought of myself as an exhibitionist, not for a second, but this was over the top for me. I found it exciting and couldn't wait for the next night.
I decided to take things up a notch. Maybe it's better said that my libido made the decision for me but either way, that's pretty much all I thought of the whole day. So around 10 o'clock as usual, I paraded my naked self into the well lighted kitchen, my boner at full mast because it knew what was coming. I made of point of going through the standard drill, pouring some juice, leaning back to ponder the taste and relax against the kitchen table.
Again, as the night before, I began to lazily stroke my dick. This time however I didn't stop. After about a minute, I put the juice glass in the sink and looked down at the fine job I was doing and pretended suddenly to take a great interest in my own masturbation.
I had a major hard on and it responded exceptionally well to my jerking. I was doubly motivated, not just by the sensation I was administering to myself but as well to the audience sequestered in the darkened house next door. I was wildly at myself and stroked like a mad man. I turned to them in profile to allow them a good view, stroke, stroke, stroke and then I turned to face them, never looking up but just concentrating on the swollen, reddening cock in my fist.
