344. That's how many days she's lived in this apartment complex. Of those 344 days she'd masturbated for me 327 times. Once a day mostly...though she'd hit twice a day three times. Valentine's Day, May nineteenth, and August second, what is the significance of those last two? No idea.
Honestly, despite the fact I have seen every beautiful angle of her, I have never spoken to her, and never seen her closer than twenty-five feet away, she was jogging and I was grabbing my mail.
I suppose it's because I'm a peeping Tom. Though in truth I didn't try to peep. I work from home, and my apartment is situated right beside hers with only a 30 foot space from my office window to her bedroom window.
Before she had even finished unpacking she'd laid out on her bed and masturbated. I had been so shocked I hadn't been able to move until she'd finished, rolling off the bed and wandering out in only her white cotton tee.
At first I didn't know if she knew I was there, so I'd left all my lights on to show her she could see in my apartment, like I could see into hers. But she kept doing it. Sometimes after lunch, sometimes after a jog, sometimes after work. Always without looking at me, always without checking to see if I was there or not.
At one point I began to question if she was blind and perhaps did not know I was there. One day she'd waved at me while grabbing something off her dresser. She knew I was there. She knew I was able to see.
As the months had gone by of her coming in and masturbating for me, I must admit I grew a bit of an addiction to her. Gorgeous. She was simply gorgeous. Her brown hair tossed over the pillow. Her creamy skin glowing in the evening sunlight. Her beautiful breasts, I had made a study of those round globes. A large C, I guessed, perhaps even a D, they were just heavy enough that they drooped a bit without her bra. I didn't mind, but then, I'd always been a large breast fan. They bounced sometimes as she angled herself to align her fingers deep within her pink wet pussy.
And I'd done something awful. I had started working my schedule around hers. I aligned my office hours to conclude just as she got off work, in order to not be distracted at work. I'd wait for her to "finish" before I went out for the evening. Frankly I just wanted to watch her.
Every time she moved I wanted to watch.
It was horrible, and I felt guilty, but I couldn't figure out how to stop myself. I had a long term lease on my apartment, breaking it would cost far too much. All I could hope was her lease was up in another few weeks. But in truth I didn't hope for that. I hoped I could get the guts up to talk to her. To make her more than a vision in my life.
Saturday she closed the blinds. I thought at first she went home for the holidays – but she comes in and turn the lights on. It's been four days. I guess she got done with me watching.
It was Christmas Eve and I had been poking around on the computer. I was about to turn it off and head in for a movie when I saw her car pull in. She waved at me as she grabbed things from her trunk. She looked amazing as the snow fell around her, like an angel getting kissed by moonlight. Her athletic body, her tight ass, her hair tumbling in chocolate curls down her back and over her shoulders under a fuzzy white hat.
I watched as she closed her garage, then started the shut down on my computer.
I was literally standing up to leave when she pulled open her blinds. I froze. She was dressed in a red teddy, white fur lining the edges, a Sexy-Santa lingerie outfit. She smiled at me out from under sooty lashes behind the double pane glass of her window.
I smiled back, nervously.
