The Stripping Nurse

Mother and daughter shared an apartment in my building. Mother was an English teacher, and the daughter was a nurse. Mother was a tall and slender blonde who carried herself well. Daughter Sharon had hair that was a fiery red. She was what would be called "ample figured," not fat but maybe a few pounds heavier than she should be. Her boobs, however, were incredibly huge, even for a young woman with a larger frame.

Sharon was not at all unattractive, but her face was very plain. Who noticed her face, though, when she had boobs that looked like watermelons? I usually saw her as she was coming home from work or going to work. She worked in a hospital some 30 miles away and was usually either working, commuting, or sleeping. When she did have a few days off, she would frequently go away on short vacations, usually to the beach, which was only about four hours away.

Occasionally, however, she's come out of her apartment in one of those bikinis that looked like it had been taken from the teen section at the department store. Usually, her boobs seemed to be struggling to escape. The few extra pounds she carried did not really detract from her alluring quality. She just seemed to jiggle a little bit more in all of the right spots to elicit attention from the men.

One night I waited until the local news went off at 11:30 and then took the garbage out. As I exited the building, I noticed an older man in the middle of the parking lot outside our apartment building. He seemed to panic when he saw me. He suddenly started, looked at me briefly, and then began to hurry toward his building farther down the way. I was puzzled by his actions.

When I deposited the garbage bag in the bin that lay at the end of our parking lot, I realized why the man had been so startled. Sharon's window on the second floor, usually dark, was lit up, and her curtains were open. There was nothing to see, and I went back into the building, still pondering the connection between the man's actions and the window.

Over the next few days, I began to notice. Sharon always came home right about 11:30, and her drapes seemed never to be closed. Her apartment had the same exact floor plan as mine, so I knew the layout. Also, I had visited with Sharon and her mother a couple of times and knew that Sharon had the smaller of the two bedrooms.

Over time, I developed a plan. When the time came to implement the plan, I had parked my car directly below Sharon's window. I moved the light switch so that the interior light would not come on, even when the door was opened. I leaned the seat all the way back and waited.

Right on cue, Sharon's MG came into the lot. She found a place to park and exited the vehicle. Her white nurse's uniform stood out starkly in the bluish glare of the apartment's security lights. She walked into the building. I raised the back of my seat up into an upright position. In about 90 seconds, the light came on in her room. I watched as Sharon walked toward the window, still clad in her white uniform. She moved to the right out of view.

When Sharon reappeared, she had her uniform in her hand. She had been gone just long enough to remove the small amount of jewelry she could wear while performing a nurse's duty and then to remove the dress whites. To my great delight, it seemed that her laundry basket was directly in front of the window.

The windows in these apartments were oversized. They were little wider than most windows and were especially tall. In fact, their height made it very difficult to find blinds that would go all the way to the bottom of the window. Yet, Sharon's window had no such blinds. She had curtains but I had never seen the curtains do anything but hang at the extreme side of the window. The window provided a perfect voyeur's dream.

I wondered why Sharon would choose to leave her window so uncovered and then to have her laundry basket right below it. Becoming a registered nurse is not something that can be done without a reasonable degree of intelligence. Yet, here was Sharon, standing in front of the window with only her panties and bra, and the bra barely provided any cover at all. Was she so casual about nudity that she didn't care if someone saw her? Did she get off on the excitement and thrill that someone might see her? Or did she have a desire to be seen? These questions raced through my mind, but at the moment, they were of little import. I was occupied with wondering what she would do next.

I watched as she dropped the uniform into the laundry basket below the window. My excitement increased as she reached both arms behind her. She undid her bra and slid it off, dropping it into the laundry basket. Her boobs were even larger than I had imagined. As large as they were, they did not overly sag. I would have gladly spent an afternoon just attending to those two beautiful monoliths if I had been given the chance.

Even if someone saw me, I was perfectly in my right to be in my own car in my own parking lot. Legally, I was not a peeping Tom, but I was sure getting an eyeful. She was nude from the waist up, but neither of us had broken any law. She could have been charged, but there was no way a prosecutor could have proven intent rather than carelessness. Still, my heart raced.

Then she reached her hands to her sides and put her thumbs into her panties. As she pulled down, her head obscured what I was hoping to see, but the movement made her breasts swing downward, and their sheer size created a momentum that made them swing forward and back. Had the excitement been any more, I would have screamed. Had my arousal been any more extreme, I would have needed fresh underwear.

Then she rose back up in order to step out of her panties. In that stance, I saw her face, her gigantic boobs, and her pussy. The hair on her pussy was the same shade of red as the hair on her head. Then she bent down to pick her panties up off the floor. Again, the boobs did the same pendulum swing as before. She rose up with her panties in her hand. If I had been in possession of a camera that was capable of taking pictures in that light, I would have had one of the most erotic shots I've ever seen. There she stood, a big bosomed redhead totally naked with awesome boobs fully exposed, her fiery pussy showing, and her panties in one hand.

As Sharon turned, I quickly exited my car and pushed the door to without closing it. As I had planned, no light came on. I quickly walked behind my car and turned just in time to see Sharon's full body with her ass fully exposed. Did she do it on purpose or through neglect? I'll never know, but I do know that she put on one hell of a show that night that I'll never forget. Although I watched her many more nights, none of them were ever as special to me as that first time.

After that night, every time I saw her in the hallway or on the staircase, I would automatically recall the image of her every body part. I looked into her eyes when we talked, but my mind was recalling gigantic boobs swaying, a flaming red pussy, and a cute nurse derriere heading to the shower. In my heart I knew exactly how she looked totally naked and with her panties in her hand.