The Wndow Pt 01

This all happened quite a while ago, when I had just moved back to New York with my girlfriend after living in the Northwest. I'm a tall, thin, long-haired white guy, fit in well in the Northwest, where the hippies still seemed to thrive. In New York then, the tough mid-80s, my girlfriend, a tall strong Jamaican woman, was more at home. We found a top-floor walkup in a old building way east in Alphabet City, a little one-bedroom, with the main room all windows facing off to the south, and the tiny bedroom in the back, a window on one side facing the building next door, and the other on the air shaft, a few feet from a window into our neighbor's place.

That window, opening onto what seemed to be darkness, turned out to be what changed my life.

I worked overnights, where exactly isn't important. But it meant my girlfriend and I didn't sleep at the same hours, since she worked days. I would come home before most of the neighborhood was waking up, when the city was strangely quiet, and it was one such summer sunrise morning shortly after we'd moved in that this began.

Something made me decide to stop in at the Korean deli on the corner before I went upstairs. I couldn't say I was hungry or thirsty, nothing I could say I wanted, but still I looked at the store and felt oddly compelled to go in.

The old woman behind the counter said good morning, and I smiled and said hello, then started through the narrow aisles between the densely stacked shelves. There was a scent I wasn't used to, and then I saw a small woman, her head lost in a cloud of uncontrolled red curls that fell well down her back and tumbled around her shoulders. Her bare arms were obviously strong and her thighs under a thin, muslin shift were powerful, muscled. She turned her head and I saw she was freckled, wide cheekbones, broad forehead, small full-lipped mouth and green eyes like knifeblades that slashed right into my heart.

She looked at me boldly, calmly, and I felt the scent around her fill my nose, my head. It was smoky, like her hair, like a good lapsang souchong. I wanted to say something, but didn't know what. I felt dumbfounded, slightly ridiculous, and felt my cock stiffening in my pants, and the way se looked at me, I thought she knew everything.

She turned and came right past me -- I saw she was holding three mangoes gathered in her hands against her flat belly, below her small breasts. She didn't take her eyes from me, holding me prisoner, and only when she was right next to me did I hear her voice, low, barely a whisper, just a breath: "Be careful."

I mindlessly gathered some fruit, heard her speaking to the old woman, realized they were not speaking English, but when I turned to bring what I'd found to the counter, the redhead was gone, and after I had paid and gone outside, she was gone.

My building was two doors down, I walked slowly, the vision of her, the strangest thing being that I felt an overwhelming urge to jerk off while she was still in my head. I felt like a teenager again, the power of a girl's body, the mystery, the ache. But then when I got in the building and started up the stairs, I caught her scent, heard footsteps, slow, above me. So of course I hurried.

At the third floor I caught up to her, she climbing slowing. She glanced back at me over her shoulder and said, "Neighbor."

Following her up the next three flights -- six, really, as between each floor the stairs turned once, I found myself mesmerized by the movement of her ass under the muslin shift, just tight enough to grab her hips as she moved, but loose enough to release them, to keep them a mystery. And her calves, bare, reddened, freckled, and her feet, bare in leather Indian sandals, those kolhapuri chappals so popular with hippies, like my first girlfriend wore. I knew my girlfriend was up there in the apartment, but my head was here with this woman, and when she looked back at me again over her shoulder, I knew she knew it.

By the time we reached the top floor, I was breathless, though not from the climb. There were only three apartments on each floor, and she went to the door opposite mine. She started to open the door without even putting a key in the lock, and then turned her face to me. Her every movement seemed slow, graceful, controlled, as though time and everything around her were brought in to the pace she set. The left corner of her mouth curled up slightly, and she said, "Marina."

I answered, "Dean."

"Yes," she said. And then she went in and was gone.

I dropped my keys once, fumbling to get in my apartment. The heat suddenly hit me, and the ache in my cock. She was in my head, but she was gone. Of course, there was Anna. I dropped the fruit on the table and went into the little bedroom. She was just waking up. It was summer, the windows were open, and her long dark body, in just panties and a thin undershirt, was only half covered in a sheet. I was already hard, and I pulled off my clothes quick as I could, her sleepy eyes watching me, and just as I yanked off my shorts, she rolled onto her belly, slightly pushing up her tight ass.

"You want me, hungry boy?" she said.

"You know I do," I said, feeling my cock throb.

"Too bad," she said softly. "I have to go to work."

"Please," I whispered.

She swished her butt a little from side to side and laughed.

"Is that what you want?"

I nodded, breathless.

"Go ahead then, I guess you can kiss me a little."

I came and knelt on the bed, leaned over and, smelling the scent of her warm sleeping body, brought my lips to her brown ass, feeling the firmness, the heat, the smoothness of her skin, and she pushed herself up just a little, into my face. She knew from the beginning I loved her ass, I loved to eat her, to feed on her pussy from behind, my face, my nose thrust into her cheeks, and now she rose up on her knees, letting me pull down her panties so I could get my tongue to her tight ass hole. My cock was hard, I wanted to stroke it, but I kept my hands on her cheeks, caressing her as I lick at her hole, gently pushing the tip into her, feeling the tightness. I could hear myself moaning, could hear her light laugh, feel it in my head.

"I have to get dressed, you naughty boy," she said, and she suddenly pulled away from me, somehow got up, leaving me with my head clouded with desire, the taste of her on my tongue, and feeling my hand go to my cock, dripping precum, wanting more.

She was gone, and in that moment, I felt something strange, something uncertain, felt that I was being watched, I was exposed. I was still breathing heavily, my chest rising and falling, my hand on my hard cock. I looked at the window out onto the other building, but the blinds there were closed. I thought of the other window, onto the air shaft, but I didn't dare to look. Marina. I was naked, on my knees on the bed, my cock in my hand. I started to stroke myself, slowly, felt myself sigh, felt more precum leak from the swollen head of my dick. My body shivered, as though I could feel sharp green eyes on me, and then, helplessly, I turned to that window, looked out across the airshaft, the other apartment was dark, but I felt the life there, the watching, and kept stroking myself, slowly speeding up, my breath coming more quickly, not even thinking of Anna's ass, the taste on my tongue, but only of those other eyes I might only be imagining, those eyes watching, having watched me eat ass, and now, watching me jerk off, seeing, I hoped, that I was doing it for them.