Nicole had too many nights, with too much time, to think about too many things. She was lonely. The reasons why she was alone are as important as the unusual remedy she chose. Besides, for a single woman in her late forties, working ten and twelve hour days, living alone in a big city, to address her social isolation requires some imaginative thinking. With limited time for socializing and a limited number of friends—all of whom are married—opportunities for meeting a nice man do not come alone often. She hated the bar scene. She had no patience for chitchat at boring parties. Nevertheless, she wanted interaction with someone. She got enough interaction with her female friends at work. It would be nice to have a man in her life, not because she felt she needed a man, but she wanted one for company, conversation, and of course sex. Single women, living alone, get horny just like anyone else.
The idea for addressing her loneliness began one night as she sat by her apartment window drinking hot tea. It was something she did each night to help her wind down. She would have her tea while she watched the lights and the activity of the streets below. Her apartment was almost on the corner of her building, seven floors up. There was an alley between her building and the one next to it, but she was still close enough to have a good view of the streets that ran in front of her building.
Nicole was a people watcher, although she would have never thought of herself as a voyeur. Just the same, she did not look away from the apartments across the way if someone left their curtains or blinds open. She often thought at night, when the other apartments were lit up and their curtains and blinds were open, that set against darkness outside each appeared to be a small stage on which a performance was taking place. Albeit, the performance was usually only someone cleaning their house or watching TV, sometimes she watched as couples argued or people entertained their guests.
Although they apparently never knew she was watching or cared, in a way, in a sad way, she lived vicariously through many of her neighbors whom she did not know. She gave them names based on what she thought fit them. She imagined that she knew all the missing pieces of their lives. She even tried to predict what they would do next and knew most of their routines. At least it is better than watching TV, she thought. However, she knew this was only a diversion from her discontent.
Then one night as she sat drinking her tea, something happened that started her down a path she would have never predicted. On that night, almost all the lights in the apartments had gone out when she noticed a new "stage" illuminated just across the alley—almost even with her apartment window. It had been vacant for several weeks. Obviously, someone new had moved into the apartment. Curiosity drew her attention to it, but the man walking around in the apartment kept her attention.
The man looked to be in his mid-thirties, attractive, slender and best of all; it appeared he was the only occupant. She watched as he went about his work shirtless. She quickly familiarized herself with all aspects of his body that she could see and fantasied about what she could not see. Nothing of the furnishing he had unpacked thus far gave any hint there was a woman in his life. In fact, his furnishings were sparse and lacked any aesthetic value. As for him, Nicole thought to herself, he had aesthetic value.
At one point, he looked up, and out his window, and caught a glimpse of Nicole watching him. She was embarrassed that she was caught, clearing watching at him, but he only smiled, gave a slight wave, and when back to work. However, over the following weeks the two became accustomed to the other's silent presence. He was indeed living alone, and like her, he spent most of his evenings alone. Both tried to appear as if they only had a vague awareness of the other, but over time, both found themselves looking for the other.
Initially, they shared their lives by mutual, but casual observation, then by charades, with each using pantomimes to give the other brief glimpses into what they were thinking or just saw on the streets below. As their comfort with one another grew, the exchanges became more flirtatious—though not overtly. For instance, the younger man would often walk about his apartment following a shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel around his waist. Occasionally, Nicole would notice an noticeable lump or bulge in the front of his towel and the sight quickly became part of her masturbatory fantasies.
Soon, she was walking about her apartment in the most sheer nightgown she had, knowing the lights in her apartment were positioned so that she was backlit, this giving him a silhouette of her naked body beneath. The alleyway and their two buildings may have separated them physically, but the building sexual tension they felt was as tangible as if they were in the same room. The glances became gazes and the gazes became looks of longing for the other. Each teased the other without words, flaunting their near-naked bodies, and appearing "inadvertently" to do anything to encourage the voyeur in the other.
Weeks had passed without a word exchanged between the two—they did not even know the other's name. Yet, each felt they knew the other. Each had tried to be discrete so as not to allow the neighbors to see or participate in their exchanges. Sometimes that meant late nights and sometimes, really late nights, but it didn't seem to matter to either. Neither felt alone anymore. Both felt the excitement in their lives that had been missing as two solitary individuals lost in a city awash with the innumerable faces of strangers.
The night their purely visual relationship became something tangible was the Friday evening Nicole acted on an impulse. Maybe she was an exhibitionist at heart. Maybe, on a subconscious level, she was trying to provoke him to more of an exchange. Whatever the case, when she had her evening tea, while sitting at the window, she did so completely naked, and she did so, with such nonchalance, that a first time observer might think it were her usual routine.
Imagine the surprise of her man friend as he emerged from his bath, clad only in a towel, thinking that night would be as before, when he glances over to her window and finds her sitting there stark naked, casually drinking tea and watching the streets below. They were no more than fifty or sixty feet away and he could not but help see her clearly, and clearly, the relationship was in for some kind of a change.
Fortunately, for Nicole, it had the desire effect. She looks across and sees him standing facing her. She notices the towel has more than a slight bulge underneath. Plainly, his manhood is straining to jut itself out from underneath his towel. Their eyes lock and she smiles demurely before taking another sip of tea, but never breaking eye contact. He smiles back, before causing her to gasp as he drops his towel, revealing his swollen erection. Before she realizes it she has risen to her feet in eagerness, tea cup and saucer still in hand. He rewards her response with the sight of him, turning slightly, to give her a better view, taking his cock in hand and beginning to stroke it as he gazes upon her.
Both are now glancing from window to window to make sure no one else has a private seat to their exhibition. Being satisfied they alone are privy to what is taking place; Nicole sits her cup and saucer down on the table, and with one hand cups her breast—squeezing it gently. The other hand she slips between her legs, feeling for her wet slit, never taking her eyes off him. He smiles at her as he strokes himself. Her nipples become erect at the sight of him and at the feel of her finger slipping into her sopping wet twat. Undoubtedly, their relationship has taken a new turn.
The sound of a car horn on the street below bring them both back to reality and each instinctively step back from the window as if hiding from anyone below. It takes only a moment for them to realize the horn had nothing to do with them and they share a silent laugh with one another. Each begins to turn away, but Nicole can take it no longer, dashing away from the window before quickly returning, she first checks to make sure the coast is clear, before getting his attention and then holding up a piece of paper with her apartment number written in large numbers on it. "716!" was all it read. It was sufficient.
Nicole giggled with delight as she saw him dash into another room and quickly emerge, mostly dressed, pause smile with one eyebrow raised mischievously, and then bolt for the door. He was on his way! Suddenly, she was befuddled as what to do now. Anxiety set in and set hurried about in a panicked state, until she regained her composure.
Until then, her mind raced. What have I done? I don't even know who he is? He could be a crazy man! I just gave him my apartment number! Her mind screamed every question and possibility she had not previously considered with any earnestness. Her mind continues to spin with questions like: Will he like me? What if he sees me up close and thinks that I'm ugly or realizes I'm older than him? What if he's realty a jerk? How would I get rid of him?
Finally she shrieks aloud, "O my god what have I done?"
Running to the door, she places her ear against the door to see if she can hear the elevator or the sound of footsteps—but nothing. She looks through the peephole—nothing.
Closing her eyes she leans herself against the door in exhaustion and breathes deeply, as she tries to get a grip on herself. After a couple of deep breaths, she opens her eyes and looks down. It's at that point she remembers she is naked! Panic sets in again as her mind searches for what to do.
"I can't open the door naked," she mumbles to herself. "I need my robe—no, my gown—no..." and, with that, she hears the ding of the elevator and footsteps approaching. Her heart is racing and her breathing is rapid and shallow. Looking down she sees chill bumps covering her body and her nipples erect.
"Oh well," she says with a deep breath and sigh, "it's too late now."
The next sounds she hears is his knock on the door. Looking through her peephole once more just to make sure it is him—wouldn't want to open the door to the wrong person while I'm naked—she thinks to herself and smiles. It's him.
"Here goes," she whispers to herself, as she turns the door handle and opens it slowly.
As the door opens, she peeks around the door and greets him with a smile and the invitation, "Come on in."
As the opening of the door widens and he steps in, he can see she is still naked. Of course, he is delighted and greets her with, "Wow."
Blushing, she takes him by the arm gently pulling him in, while shutting the door quickly behind him. Folding her arms across her chest, each hand rubbing the opposite upper arm as if she is cold and trying to conceal her breasts, bashfully she offers an unnecessary explanation. "You got over here really quick; I didn't have time to put anything on yet."
They both laugh as her hands awkwardly alternate between covering her naked breasts and her pussy.
