Half past ten, a warm September night. The last remnants of summer are still clinging on - it's not cold enough to need a coat, warm enough that I can take a break from trying to figure out why the app I'm trying to code just won't work outside in the late summer air. I'd been looking at my laptop since early this morning, in between looking after my mother, a couple of breaks for food, and now, I need a coffee and a clear head.
It's just me and mum at home. I'm my mother's carer, ever since a car accident left her in a wheelchair. My dick of a father was driving, spun off, crashed into a tree. He did the decent thing and waited for four months after the crash before saying he couldn't handle it and left us. We live in a small house, with a small garden, on a small estate. We have houses on both side with walls so thin I can hear every argument and TV show. Our house backs onto another house, with more houses beside that, packed in like sweetcorn on a cob.
I was fifteen when the accident happened, and life went to hell. School suffered, I've never worked and the few friends I did have all left to go to University and have a life, girlfriends and fun. I'm at home, caring for my mother, barely any money coming in aside from the pittance the Government see fit to force us to live on. I'm nineteen now, still a virgin, and things are unlikely to improve any time soon.
I was sitting in the darkness, enjoying just not thinking, the light murky enough to give my cup a fluorescent glow. I was trying to think about something else, anything else, anything apart from that damned code! A light snapped on in the house directly opposite ours. A blonde lady lived there. I didn't know her name or what she did for a living, all I knew was she walked past our house to get to work in a smart clothes and jogged past in tracksuit and occasionally lycra in the evenings. She was about my height, slim, hair usually cut short or in a ponytail, probably in her early thirties. I did know for certain she had a wonderful ass, firm and proud buttocks that bounced when she jogged. Lovely legs when they were in a skirt, even better in lycra and smallish boobs that she usually kept well covered.
I'd admired her from afar - discreetly, of course, but as my bedroom was at the front of the house, I always enjoyed watching her jogging whenever I saw her.
As I looked up at the lit window, I saw her stride across, wearing a very loosely tied pink robe. She came right to the window, and looked out, as the robe fell open, revealing a white bra, and I could just about make out the top of black panties. She stretched up to pull the curtains across, her slim stomach looking tight and toned. I sat, transfixed for the few seconds I could admire her, before the curtains were drawn, closing the light off from the world.
I quickly checked the time, and made a mental note to be back outside tomorrow night. You know, just in case...
The following night, the weather was still warm, and I made sure that I had a large coffee. I headed into the garden at half past nine, patiently waiting, a feeling of excitement growing. I'd been looking out for her jogging earlier in the evening, but hadn't seen her.
After what seemed an eternity, the window suddenly burst into light. I pushed myself back into the shadows, barely breathing. She appeared, in the same robe. This evening, it was completely untied, and flapped around her like a cloak. She was in a black bra this time, black panties again, but this evening she paused to rub her neck and roll her shoulders before reaching up to close her curtains.
This carried on for a few more weeks. Every evening, I'd head outside around ten o'clock, with a coffee, and wait. The weather grew colder, so I took to wearing a dark coat so I'd stay hidden from view. Every night, around 10:30, she would appear, usually in a robe. Some nights it would be tightly tied and I'd not see anything. One night, she wasn't in a robe, but wearing a large, loose t-shirt instead. I never saw a guy, or any indication that she knew I was there. The evenings quickly became the highlight of my day. I'd put Mum to bed around 9 - starting to resent the fact she had the biggest bedroom at the back of the house, otherwise I could have been watching from the privacy and warmth of my bedroom, naked.
I watched out for her jogging but as the evenings drew in and darkness came earlier and earlier in the day, I didn't see her. But I started to think. Could I introduce myself to her? Could I get closer to her window? Could I switch bedrooms so I could be at the back? Could I somehow record her? A camera? I tried to use my phone, but the picture was too blurry. I'd need a telescopic camera lens, but there was no way I could afford it and didn't know anyone that might own one. All I could do was pack Mum off to bed, and enjoy those few seconds every night, and hope that one time, just once - she'd be naked.
Then the storm hit. Torrential rain, howling gale, it felt like the end of the world. It was so bad I had to forego my nightly activities for an evening, and sat inside instead, watching porn and seething with whatever weather system had seen fit to rob me of my few seconds of pleasure. I was sat on the sofa, with my laptop on, when I heard the crash. I raced upstairs, thinking Mum had had another accident, only to find her safely asleep. Her painkillers were great for knocking her out for the night. I pulled my coat on, grabbed a torch from the kitchen, headed into the garden and shone it around, trying to see what had happened.
The fence was down. It was a large wooden panelled fence that separated our garden from hers, around six feet high. It had been torn down by the winds, and was lying prostrate across ours and the lady's garden. As I walked towards it, lights came on in her house, the back door opened, throwing more light into the gloom. A silhouette appeared in the doorframe momentarily, before a white glow walked up the garden. I shone the torch towards it, smiling to myself as she appeared in the beam. The rain continued to teem down, but it didn't seem to bother her at all. As she strode towards me, a muscular toned leg emerged from underneath her robe, the silky material caressing her with each stride. She made no attempt to shield herself from the beam of light, or show any embarrassment.
'Hi,' she greeted me. 'I'm Jo. I guess you're Shaun?'
'Yes,' I replied, a little surprised she knew my name.
She looked over the broken fence, asking me to shine the light this way and that, examining the damage. After a couple of minutes, she swore and shrugged.
'Nothing we can do about it tonight, is there?' she said.
I shook my head. 'Don't think so.'
'Let's hope the rain eases off tomorrow, and take a look. See if it can be fixed. It should be covered on my house insurance, but if not, tell your mum that I'd be happy to split the costs?'
'Yeah, sure.'
'Good night Shaun. Nice to meet you.'
She turned and strode away home, her robe flapping in the wind. I turned to go home, and then I didn't. I don't know why I didn't, my brain told me to go home, and then something else made a decision for me. I waited for her to close her door, clambered over the broken fence as quickly as I could, and started to creep towards her house.
All the houses in our neighbourhood were identical. The front door lead to a large lounge, with stairs in the corner up to bedrooms and a bathroom. Downstairs, another door took you from the lounge into the long, thin kitchen that stretched out into the garden. Where the kitchen stretched into the garden added extra garden between the outside kitchen wall and the neighbours fence, with a large lounge window looking in to the house. It was this window that I crept towards, seeing her TV and a bookcase as I got closer, switching the torch off as I went.
Jo's house had grass right up to the wall of the house, with a large rhododendron bush halfway along the outside of the kitchen wall. I headed straight for it, carefully stepping around the bush, allowing me a perfect, unimpeded view into her lounge. I crouched, feeling ever more excited as I drew closer.
The shadows were plentiful and absorbed me perfectly. I melted into the blackness, still trying to work out what the hell I was doing. I pulled the hood of my coat over my head and stood deadly still. I hardly dared even breath. I could see the flickering light of the TV, I could see her armchair against the far wall, I could see her bare legs resting on a footstool. I slowly edged closer to the house, moving slightly to the right, opening my field of vision with every inch. I was barely able to tear my eyes from her and look and see where I was going. As I got closer, I saw more of her. Her calves, her knees, her muscular, toned thighs. A hint of black lace, slipping deliciously between her legs. Her taut stomach, her breasts hidden by the robe that loosely covered them.
I stopped, a few feet from the window. I dared go no further. If I could see her face, she could see me. She knew who I was, she knew my mum. It wouldn't end well. Minutes passed. The rain eased off, and the wind quietened. Heavenly minutes of peace and quiet. I knew I was storing this memory for use when I got home later, already feeling a stirring in my groin.
Her hand slipped into view. It gently rubbed the outside of her pelvis, almost casually. She opened her legs slightly, her fingers working a little faster. Her legs widened, and her fingers slowly moved upwards, over the waistband of her underwear, and then back down, underneath the fabric.
Holy shit!
