The Secret Window

The night air is marginally cooler than the stifling heat of the day. The open window next to his bed barely allows for any air movement, especially with there being no breeze. His apartment building is one of many packed so close to the next that his window is a mere few feet away from someone else's window in the next building. Normally, he wouldn't bother opening the window because the only view it affords is of that opposing window. But tonight it is simply too hot. His building's a/c is ridiculously inadequate. Living on the upper floors means that by the time the cool air gets to his level, it's no longer cool. His small apartment has no windows, except for his bedroom window, so his only choice for relief is to open it and hope that somehow, some errant breeze finds its way to his window.

Living in a city of this size has so many drawbacks. But he accepted it to survive. Since the window doesn't face a street the noise of the city is lessened to a murmur. The smell of the city rarely reaches to this height, but there is no other smell either. That can be another meager blessing. All-in-all there really isn't anything bad about his window, nor is there much good about it either. Especially on a night like tonight.

Crawling slowly from his bed to the window he sits in the opening with one leg braced against the frame with his knee up and his other folded and crossed underneath. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes he feels the very slightest movement of the outside air. It's not cool, nor fresh, but it is cooler than the air inside his apartment and it feels fresher than the stagnant air inside his apartment too.

Suddenly, he hears the sounds of the window across from him being unlocked and opened. Looking over he sees a young girl with long, blonde hair wearing an oversized jersey pushing the window open. She clambers into the opening of her window apparently trying to escape the heat of her room as well.

Looking over at him she seems only slightly surprised to see him, "Oh, hello."

"Hello," he responds back.

"Your a/c not work either?"

Smiling ruefully he says, "Not really."

"Gotta love life in the big city."

Chuckling he says, "Indeed."

He notices the sweat on her brow and the strands of hair plastered wetly framing her face. She is quite beautiful, but obviously very young compared to him. Her arms are slender as are her legs but they are pleasingly shaped and toned. Add in the numbered jersey she is wearing and he surmises that she must be an athlete. Her legs seem long as do her arms. The muscle definition is more pronounced above her knees and just below her shoulders on her arms. Doubtful that she plays football, so she must be into basketball he decides. Her face, however, has a sleekness to it that with her youthfulness makes her extraordinarily gorgeous. Overall, from what is not hidden by her body-length shirt it is plainly obvious how attractive she is. He can't help but wonder what the rest of her body looks like. He knows she is way too young for him, but he can still appreciate her natural beauty like a piece of artwork.

He then asks her, "Have you been living there long?"

Not even bothering to open her eyes she responds, "A few months. Just in time for the school year."

"Ah. College or high school?"

"High school. It's my last year. I just turned 18."

"Oh, well happy belated birthday."

"Thanks. How about you?" She inquires.

"I've been living here for almost a year now." He pauses and then says in jest, "But I'm not in high school or college."

Chuckling at him she says, "I wouldn't think so. You like it here?"

"It's not great, but I'm surviving. How about you, you like it so far?"

"That's a good way of putting it. It's not great, but I'm surviving too." She opens her eyes and glances at him as if she were considering saying something more. But then looks away.

"You mind if I ask your name?" he asks, wondering if she would be ok with increasing their familiarity.

She looks back at him and seems to scrutinize his face, like she was trying to see beneath his surface to his true intentions. "I am not sure if I should give you my real name. We are strangers."

Nodding he says, "I understand. I just thought since we are such 'close' neighbors, at least from a physical proximity perspective that it would be ok to get to know each other a little bit. But if you have reservations, I can respect that. However, I still feel inclined to know what I can call you, if not your real name, then something else?"

A slight raising of her eyebrow and an even slighter tilt to her head tells him that she is intrigued or at least slightly interested in something that he said. He is unsure what he said, but he knows that he said something that she wasn't expecting that caught her attention.

"You can call me Paige."

"Alright, Paige. It's nice to meet you. My name is Gary."

She smiles slightly and says, "Nice to meet you, Gary."

She looks away, seemingly unsure what to say next. He also feels the awkwardness of the sudden silence. It's like all his thoughts just vacated his mind and he suddenly has nothing else to say.

Clearing her throat she says, "Well, it's late and I have school tomorrow, so I guess I'll see ya later. Good night."

"Yeah, you're right. See ya later and good night."

They both share small smiles as they climb out of their windows and close, then cover them back. He sits back in his bed letting the short conversation replay in his mind. He feels certain there was more that she wanted to say and he can't help but feel curious as to what it was. Lying back and closing his eyes he lets his thoughts wander aimlessly, but somehow his thoughts stay fixated on her. Especially the slight pouty-ness of her full lips when she smiled. She certainly has an undeniable attractiveness about her. Too bad he wasn't a younger man, he would certainly pursue her. With thoughts of her drifting alluringly through his mind he drifts off to sleep. Not for the last time he wishes his bedroom had a damn ceiling fan.

*****

The next day for him passes like any other. Nothing different, nothing of any significance, just another day doing his job to return back to his stagnantly hot, oppressive apartment. He eats his nondescript dinner and watches some tv, anything to take his mind off of the heat. After some time has passed he shuts off the tv, grabs a book and heads to his bedroom. Shedding his clothes he puts on his silk boxers and decides to sit in the window while reading his book. Unfortunately, there is no breeze again tonight and the air is not much cooler, nor much fresher than inside his apartment. Idly he glances at the opposite window, noting resignedly that it is closed and covered. Adjusting himself into a more permanent position he opens his book, clicks on his book reading light and begins reading where he left off.

He dives headlong into the story and tunes out the rest of the world. It's relaxing. He is unsure how much time has passed but is beginning to feel his relaxed body becoming sleepy. He decides it is time to turn in and get some sleep, but wants to get to a good stopping point in the story. As he is just about to reach that point he hears the sounds of the window being opened across from him. Looking over hopefully, he sees Paige framed in the window as she pushes it up and clambers onto the frame. She is wearing the same oversized shirt and her hair shows the same signs of her being hot and sweaty.

"Hi Gary." She says with a touch of happiness.

"Hi Paige." He responds and is surprised at how happy and excited he is to see her again. He glances at her legs and enjoys how lithe and supple her muscles look. Her legs aren't spindly, nor flabby, they have just the right proportions of muscle tone, which makes them very shapely in a pleasing way.

Realizing that he is staring at her legs he glances up and quickly asks, "How was school today?"

She doesn't seem to notice that he was staring just a few seconds too long at her legs and responds, "Eh, just another school day, it was ok. What are you reading?"

"Oh, Homer's Iliad."

"Really? Why?"

"Why?" He mimics her tone, "because I enjoy the story."

"We have to read it this year in my literature class, I'm not really looking forward to it."

"Ah, which version will you be reading?"

"There's more than one version?"

Chuckling he says, "Well, yes. To be more accurate, there is more than one translation. And each translator tried to 'improve' the epic by changing the style. So, some wrote it as prose, others as verse. Then, there are literal translations and well, it goes on and on."

"Noted. I have no idea. It's not really my thing. But it's good to know that you are obviously so knowledgeable about it. I guess if I have any questions about it, I could always ask you."

"Oh, of course, certainly. I would be more than happy to help. You can ask me anything you like."

"Do you read a lot?" Paige inquires.

"Um, a fair amount, yes. Not as much as I would like though."

"What else do you like to read?"

"History, science, scifi/fantasy; I have many interests actually." He shuts off the book light, closes the book and tosses them onto his bed.

She ponders about something and then asks, "Do you have kids?"

"Yes, I do. I have a son and a daughter."

"How old is she?"

"Seven."

"Oh." Paige still seems to be lost in thought.

"Was there something else you wanted to ask me?"

"Well, it's a bit personal." She says hesitantly.

"I see." He pauses, then continues, "Well, whatever it is, you can just ask me when you are ready."

"I suppose I could ask you, since you are a parent. So, from a parental perspective, how could someone like me, convince their parents to do something that they might not be open to doing?"

She looks directly at him and he can see worry and concern all over her face. Her eyes are so intent on him that he feels as if any movement he makes may convey the wrong answer. The slightest gesture may startle her and she will bolt like an animal back into the woods.

"Could you give me a better idea of what this 'something' is? Maybe a little context?"

She glances down at her hands in her lap, considering how to phrase her words.

"I want my parents to be able to accept nudism as a family when we are at home."

He doesn't know what he was expecting to come out of her mouth, but that certainly wasn't it. It takes him a few moments to process and wrap his mind around what she just said. It also takes almost all his effort to maintain his composure and not just spout off about the ridiculousness of the idea. The absolute innocence on her face as well as the seriousness of her body language conveys to him just how important it is to her.

"I think I am going to need some more context here. I have many questions and I suppose my first is going to be, why? Why do you want your parents to be naked?"

"Nudism is something I practice in private or when they aren't around, but I want it to feel normal. And the endgame for this idea is that they would decide for themselves that they wanted to do it. I'm just looking for compelling ideas or arguments to improve those odds."

The more she talks the more he recognizes a high degree of intelligence in her. Her language and accuracy of describing her thoughts impress him. He can't believe she is discussing this with him, but he has no intention of making the mistake of disregarding her problem as some juvenile exaggeration. He decides to approach this conversation rationally and with as much intelligence as he can muster.

"What convinced you to start down this path?"

"What convinced me was my older sister. She came to help unpack after we moved in, just casually did things naked when the parents weren't around, and I asked her about it, eventually tried it, and liked it."

"What exactly appealed to you about nudism?"

"That's a big question. I don't know if I can explain that well with words, but I'll try breaking it down across three dimensions. First, it just feels good. You know when you are getting into your PJs and take your clothes off? It feels like that. It's nice being uncovered. Two, clothes say something about you. You select them to present things. And sure, no one expects you to be all dressed up at home very often, but people still hold you to a certain standard based on what you wear. Not wearing anything is a break from presenting. And you could argue hygiene is also a standard people hold you too, but that one is rooted in good health and I support it. Third, is the most childish argument. It feels good to get away with something that isn't publicly supported. Exhibiting a bit of social deviance feels good. Sure, that's the same reason people rob houses or try heroin, but this variety isn't harmful or illegal. Before you ask, no I don't think this being explicitly allowed in my home would ruin this element for me. Even if everyone here is cool with it, it won't change the fact that society as a whole is not currently okay with casual nudity."

"You have been hiding it for some time obviously, why not continue hiding it until you have a place of your own like your elder sister? Will the wait inhibit or perhaps erode your resolve? Why the urgency, if you are so concerned about your parents' reaction, then just wait a little more to be able to have your own place and do as you like?" His questions just start spilling out and he realizes he is hardly giving her the opportunity to answer them all.

"If I have mischaracterized this issue as a crisis, I apologize. If I have to keep this from my parents until college I will be completely okay. That said, I'd prefer not to. There's no specific urgency other than that it's something that matters to me and that I think about it often, but not the make-or-break aspect of my life."

"Let's try a different tack. If you practice it only in the confines of your home, why can't you do so only in your bedroom and not involve your parents? Furthermore, is it really nudism if there is no one around to see you? I walk around naked in my apartment frequently, because I live alone, but I don't consider myself a nudist."

"What is and is not nudism is a valid and confusing question. For the record, my nudity isn't limited to my room. It is limited to my home during the times my parents aren't there. I also sleep naked, but just lounging in my room nude all the time would seem odd if I had to take thirty seconds to get dressed anytime they wanted to come see me. There is a social component to my nudism. I have been naked with my siblings. There is my older sister off at college and also my brother at home. You could still argue one isn't a nudist unless they go to beaches or resorts, but I'm not too worried about being a card carrying nudist."

"You practice nudism with your brother?" Once again Gary is stunned with her seemingly casual manner while discussing this subject. She is somehow keeping him feeling almost a permanent incredulousness towards her practices. His eyes flicker over her shirt from her chest to her middle, trying to see any outline or hint of clothing underneath, but either the shirt is too baggy or she is actually naked underneath it.

Nodding she says, "Yes. He is my twin and we tend to share everything. So, once I tried it and liked it, I brought it up to him and he liked the idea as well. We watch tv naked and sometimes we like to share a bed while we are naked together."

"Is there a sexual component for you while being nude? Sharing a bed with your brother, while being naked seems to take affection to a more sexual level."

"As with most people, sex and nudity are related for me but not always linked. Like, most things sexual are nude but not everything nude is sexual. And as for my brother I don't stop being affectionate just because we are naked. I don't think physical contact or affection has to be sexual."

"Could you go into a little more depth about the sexual component for you and nudism?"

"I don't really know what to say. Being naked is subversive, as we've discussed, and that's kinda sexy. And nudism still isn't that normalized within my life, so being naked just kinda puts me in a more sexual state of mind than being clothed."

He feels a thrill of arousal pass through his groin. He tries to imagine her nakedness touching his body. He takes a brief moment to consider his next words and then resumes in a non-sexual manner, or tries to.

"I waited to ask this last because I wanted to see if you had some reasonable motivations for wanting to practice nudism that weren't related to sex. As a parent, a child being nude will automatically translate into sex. This will be opposed greatly by your parents. So, if you have any reticence about the sexual component, you should really affirm your beliefs now before you speak to them, if that is still your intention. You should be comfortable discussing the sexual part and not hesitant to appear more persuasive to your cause. They may ask very pointed questions that you should try to prepare for. When you are nude does it lead to masturbation for you? Or are you wanting to show off your body, as in exhibitionism? Do you get aroused about such thoughts?"

"I see your point about needing to be able to broach these topics with my parents. They just seem very separate. Nudism is related to sexuality like a bed is related to sex. It is usually wholesome. Nudity doesn't usually lead to masturbation for me and I haven't had anyone to show off for; though admittedly it has sometimes been a fantasy."

Whether she just made a subtle hint towards him or not, he does not know. But he can't help but feel a stimulating thrill at the prospect of her masturbating naked in front of him to 'show off'.

"That's actually a good analogy with the bed. Ok, so explore the fantasy a bit further. Anyone in particular you fantasize about exposing yourself to? Any other fantasies related to your nudism? To your other point, can you feel comfortable around your family without being naked?"

"In particular? I don't know. There's a boy I kind of like, but the concept is more general. And I have plenty of fantasies. Group sex, public sex, being watched. All fantasy, nothing I expect to act on. And yes I do feel fine around my family regardless. The point was more that being naked around family or friends seems like a more reasonable goal than everyone all the time."

He can't stop feeling extreme excitement for her. Glancing down in his lap he suddenly realizes that he has an erection. Thankfully, due to the position of his leg in the window, she can't see it, at least not obviously.

"Which fantasy aroused you the most?"

She laughs, "We are getting pretty far from the main topic now." She pauses and considers his question. "I don't know how to quantify that, but I will try to answer." Again her face takes on a seriousness that belies the depth of her thoughts. "Very often I imagine if I could go to school fully nude. Getting stared at by the students, and teachers. Sitting on my French teacher's desk and getting off while the class watched me. I also like to imagine sharing a guy with one of my friends. Usually the cute boy from school I mentioned. Maybe in the park, where we'd have an audience. Or maybe it'd be him and one of his friends using me. In those cases, I prefer to imagine it would be private."

She looks directly at his face and then states very matter-of-factly, "And sometimes I just imagine that there is some hidden figure watching me in my room. Masturbating at the same time I do. I guess that is exhibitionism, though, of the imaginary kind."

Now he knows she is hinting at him. No, she is outright suggesting the same thought he is desiring. He is looking at her less and less as a teen-aged kid and more and more as a full-grown, mature adult. A woman with an impressive amount of intelligence, sophistication, and diversity. Her casual manner of being able to form and express in-depth, complicated thoughts with a razor-sharp astuteness really appeals to him. Yet, he still cannot ignore her physical age and proceeds accordingly.