The floor to ceiling window on my first floor flat looks across a small communal garden to a fence beyond which there is a golf course. There's a row of trees and bushes covering most of the end of the garden with a gap of six feet or so through which I can see onto the course. It's a pleasant view with the rolling green fairways and in the distance a lake and more trees, poplars and silver birch I think. Running along the other side of the fence on the golf course there's a footpath that's used mostly by ramblers and dog walkers.
One evening just as dusk was falling I stood looking out of the window and a man with a dog appeared in the gap. He looked up the garden and at me. I looked back. He stood staring for a few moments and I moved backwards into the room. I poured myself a glass of white and returned to the window. He was still looking and saw me but made no indication or sign of greeting.
'Sod it,' I thought. 'Why should I move away, it's my view. Isn't it?'
He didn't move and we stared at each other for a few moments until his dog came bounding up and together they moved away from the gap and out of sight.
I didn't think any more about it until three or four days later when it happened again. Once more it was dusk and I was looking out of the window with just a low wattage up lighter on in the far corner of the room from the window so, effectively, the light was behind me but as it was shining upwards it did not reflect onto the window and hamper my view but it probably made me more visible from the outside.
It was eerie. One moment I was looking through the gap across the golf course out to the lake and then the next there he was looking straight at me and I was looking at him. His sudden appearance startled me and made me jump, but I held my position and we stared at each other. He was of average height with brown hair and slim. Rather nondescript looking he did, though have an air of confidence no, more assurance about him though not arrogance or cockiness. How on earth I drew those conclusions at probably thirty yards I don't know? Probably they were more impressions than facts.
I guess we stared at each other for a couple of minutes when again I walked away from the window, across the room and poured a glass of wine. I toyed with switching the uplighter off but for some reason decided to keep it on knowing full well that it lit me up. I took the wine, red this time back to the window. He was still there. He raised his eyebrows and inclined his head slightly to his left, my right. I raised my glass and a slight smile formed on his lips.
When his dog, a golden retriever came ambling up to him a couple of minutes later, he raised his hand in a slight wave and was gone.
I stood there for a few minutes trying to work out what was happening and coming to terms with my feelings that, I was amazed to realise included being mildly aroused.
The next evening, a Friday, I had been for a drink after work and was home later than usual. When I went to the window he was already standing in the gap looking at the house. He nodded when I appeared. I smiled and we stood looking at each other. As it was later and a little murkier I realised the uplighter wasn't on so I went across the room, switched it on and returned to the window. He smiled and gave me a thumbs up, presumably for turning the light on. That made me feel good and I smiled. I felt more relaxed this time, he didn't seem to represent a threat and indeed, seemed to be a nicely turned out reasonably good-looking man. Probably about my age, forty-five, he looked to be the sort of guy I would go out with and maybe even sleep with. I did my usual wine trick and he smiled broadly when I returned to the window with the half full glass. Lifting his hand up as though holding a glass he toasted me; I returned that and he leaned forward in a slight bow. We stood looking at each other for a few moments and then his dog ran up, he waved, turned and was gone.
I went to the kitchen to prepare a meal thinking about my 'man in the gap.' In fact, I couldn't get him out of my mind and couldn't understand why I couldn't. I was feeling rather tingly, a little bit like one does with a potential lover as the anticipation of what might happen gets to you. But nothing was going to happen, was it?
I was out Saturday evening and he didn't appear on the Sunday, obviously having different dog walking habits at weekends. That made me think that he probably did a dog walk when he got home from work and that made me try to work out why? Most dogs get walked in the mornings or late evenings. The conclusion I came to was that he lived alone with the dog so no partner. For some reason that made me feel good.
My expectations on the Monday evening were higher than usual. I wore a skirt and blouse instead of the usual jeans and top and washed my hair just as if I were going on a date with him. I went to the window a little earlier than usual and my heart pounded when he was in the gap waiting for me. He gave me a big smile and raised his hand in greeting. I smiled back and also waved. After a couple of minutes, I got the wine and we toasted each other.
I didn't work out what he was doing when he started lifting and dropping his head. Then I got it. He was exaggerating looking up and down my body; that sent frissons through me. He directed his gaze upwards looking at my face and then moved it downwards until it was focused on my feet. Slowly he raised it until it was, or more to the point I imagined it was, staring at my breasts. I was, I realised becoming aroused and I found myself arching my back and thus, pushing my thirty-six-inch D cup breasts out towards him. He smiled and nodded his head several times and mouthed 'thank you' to me and then was gone.
I didn't go to the kitchen to prepare my evening meal but instead went to my bedroom, undressed and masturbated thinking about my man at the bottom of the garden.
I was on edge all the next day. I was looking forward to seeing him, wondering what would happen and what we would do? What did I mean I kept telling myself by 'what would we do?' What could we do? I was becoming obsessed with a stranger who just looked at me, waited for his dog and then walked off. I had no idea who he was, where he lived and what were his circumstances. I thought of getting in my car after we had stared at each other and following him when he came off the golf course, but that seemed against the spirit of our 'game' if that was what it was. Was it a game? I had no idea, but more and more his staring and my showing were in my mind. It was becoming more serious, more intense, and more oh I don't know but it was getting to me. I began looking forward to it and I knew that without doubt an underlying aspect was sexual. I became aroused when he stared at me and I became, possibly even more so, when I thought about it later.
I was now regularly masturbating about 'my man in the gap.' At the time I had no partner, I had been divorced just over a year, my long-term friend with benefits had been transferred with his wife and four children to the USA and there were no other candidates for taking his place or sexual prospects on my radar. Maybe it was the lack of sex that promoted my interest in the voyeur at the end of the garden or maybe it was a desire to exhibit myself to a stranger in such circumstances? Who knows, I certainly didn't?
We were starting to communicate. Not verbally, still no word had been uttered and only the odd one had been mouthed. It was by facial expressions, hand movements and body language. We smiled more and he made it obvious that he was ogling my body. He indicated for me to turn round, to bend over, both forward and back and to turn sideways. And I did, willingly, perhaps almost eagerly.
I had started 'dressing' for him. Skimpier clothes, gym gear, yogas, shorter dresses and tight skirts.
He was arriving earlier which was necessary as the days were shortening and staying a little longer, ten to fifteen minutes rather than the earlier five to ten.
Throughout the day he would come into my mind and my entire focus was on our 'meeting' in the evening. I knew that I was becoming obsessed. Not so much with him as a person but with the meeting. I knew that he was controlling and directing me, but I didn't know how or why I was letting him do that.
From his gestures and movements, I knew he wanted more. More of me. To see more of me, for me to show him more.