In Part One of this little adventure, I introduced you very briefly to my two neighbors, who far and away are the most blatant pair of exhibitionists I've ever enjoyed living across the street from. I admit, I should have gone into more detail of exactly what they did, how they did it, and how many different things they did. Because let me tell you, they do it all, right there in the open, with the lights on, and without any curtains on their bedroom windows at all. So allow me to go more fully into the sexual antics of my sexy blonde neighbor and her husband.
I've been enjoying their nightly sexcapades for nearly a year now. I'm sure they figured out long ago that without any curtains on their windows, I can see everything they do. I'm also certain they've picked up on the fact that my lights always seem to go out right when they start putting on a show. Two weeks ago when I got home from work, there was an envelope in my mailbox, with nothing written on the front, not even a stamp or my address. When I got inside and opened this curious bit of mail up, it contained just a small sheet, with only one line, obviously written in a female's flowing handwriting: "I know you watch."
I paused for a moment after reading this unusually laconic note, scratching my head in the process. The word "watch" being the keyword in this short sentence, it took me a few moments to realize whom this must be from: my exhibitionist neighbor across the street. But what would possess her to send me a note like this? I quickly rushed to the window to look across the street at their house, and as soon as I looked out I saw a figure slip away from their bedroom window. I knew then that it was she who sent me the letter, and her figure at the window was her way of letting me know that she knew I got her letter. That sent a jolt of testosterone through my body.
Now I understand what "I know you watch" means. It means she knows I watch when they/she/you does all those nasty things with the lights on and curtains off. But what precisely did she mean by it, and why did she send the letter? Was she actually taking the next step in our little voyeur game by letting me know she enjoyed the fact that I watched? It could conversely be a direct warning to me: hey perv, stop being a perv and respect the exhibitionist perv across the street's privacy, you bastard! This of course made no sense being that they were such ridiculously obvious exhibitionists, but then you never know with some people. Humans are not a logical species. So I was quite in a quandary here with how to take this note.
As I ate my microwaved macaroni and cheese for dinner, I kept peering out at the street, almost expecting a cop car to pull up to the door and arrest me for looking in my neighbor's windows. As I wolfed down my bachelor noodles (i.e. macaroni and cheese), I quickly composed a defense tactic in case I should be hauled into court to stand trial for this heinous crime, "But your Honor, they don't have any frickin' curtains on their windows, and she's really hot. What was I supposed to do?" Admittedly, if it was a female judge, I'd need a new angle. Unless of course this judge had lesbian tendencies, but then I digress...
As it turned out, my fears of being arrested, or at the very least, drawing my exhibitionist neighbor's ire, turned out to be unfounded. She merely wanted me to get turned on by knowing she knew I watched. How did I come to this conclusion? As I finished the last of my bachelor noodles, I was on my way to the TV to watch Gilmore Girls. I never got that far, because across the street my neighbor's bedroom light turned on at just that moment. And there in the middle of the room stood this completely naked beautiful lady, a hand cupping one breast, and the other hand doing some busy things between her legs. Female masturbation? I did what any normal man would do: I quickly pulled up a chair and grabbed my binoculars.
The scene that followed was an interesting one. I admit, I've been so busy looking in their windows every night since they moved in, I never did get a chance to catch their names. So for convenience I'll just call her Blondie, or Hottie, and I'll interchangeably call him either her husband, or "that lucky S.O.B." At any rate, she was standing there clearly playing with herself, her ample boobs being massaged by one hand while her delectable nether areas were being attended to with great effect by the digits of her other hand. From what I could tell, she seemed to be an experienced veteran at this maneuver. It took me a few moments to realize that off to her side, lying on the bed, was the aforementioned lucky S.O.B. husband, naked, erect, and stroking himself. They were having a nice mutual masturbation session - and they knew damned well I was watching them!
After a few minutes of this reciprocal fun, her fingers were flying around in ever faster circles on her love button, and it wasn't long before she started to shake, wobble, shimmy, and roll. She seemed barely able to remain standing upright as a mighty orgasm consumed her luscious body. As amazing a sight as this was for me to see, I cursed my fate that I couldn't hear a single sound she made throughout this entire wonderful moment. Remind me to install that microphone in their bedroom the next time they're not home.
After her orgasm subsided, she looked down at her husband, still busily stroking himself, eyes quite big from the sight in front of him. She began to wag her tongue at him, as if edging him on, and then got down on her knees, mouth wide open. He quickly got the hint (and so did I!), and he jumped off the bed, stood firmly before Blondie, and began wanking himself furiously until he shot his copious load all over her cute English face. Lucky S.O.B. She looked up at him with an evil grin, and then got up and kissed him with her cum filled lips. He then walked out of the room to clean up.
Alone in the bedroom now, she turned directly toward the window, standing there for a moment as my binocular aided eyes could see the ejaculate all over her face. She was intentionally letting me see this. Finally for effect, she wiped a good bit off with her finger, and very deliberately licked it up. A big smile took her face as she looked out the window, then she turned away, and the lights went out. Wow. I'm in love.
Is there anyone on the planet who wouldn't be able to figure out what I did next? Hello lotion, I'd like you to meet Mr. Hand and Mr. Penis. You've all met before? Splendid! Well, have at it boys, and don't spare the horses. To say the least, it got quite noisy for a while in my house, particularly when it came to "O" time. No sooner did I stop my panting then I heard the phone ring, once. Just once. I knew exactly who it was. While she couldn't see me jerking it there by the window (my lights were still off), she was letting me know she knew full well what I was doing at that moment, and what drove me to it.
The next day I found myself in the pharmacy to purchase some, well, hand lotion. Why? You figure it out there, Sherlock. Turning into an aisle, who should I find facing me but my neighbor exhibitionist hottie. It took me a minute to get my eyes off her breasts so I could say hello. I hadn't seen them up close like that before, and was intrigued by this thing called clothing which was covering them, something I normally didn't see her wearing in her own house. Up close I realized how stunning and beautiful a face she had. That was fortunate too, because it enabled me to take my eyes off her breasts, so we could actually converse in a considerably less awkward fashion. Her English accent was a pleasure to listen to as well. We exchanged cordialities and we introduced ourselves. To be honest, my heart was pounding too much and my eyes were too busy taking in the eye candy, so whatever names she gave for herself and her husband, those names went in one ear and out the other just as fast, so I never did learn their names. Thus, I'll stick with Blondie and Lucky S.O.B. for the remainder of this story.
