White Picket Fence, Chapter 1: Across the Lawn
I wasn't even supposed to be home that night. I was supposed to be half a country away.
In hindsight, I suppose it was fate that brought me to my bedroom balcony. But at the time, fate felt a lot more like, I don't know... insecurity?
I had a four day conference in Opal County. You wouldn't think an accounting conference for operations executives would be the liveliest place. Neither did I. But it turns out, all that drinking and rowdiness was too much for me. Besides, I missed my husband Pete. So I came home a day early. I thought I'd surprise him.
I parked the car just outside the garage in our long cobblestone driveway. The house was dark; not a soul in sight. I tiptoed down the slate footpath to the front door and cracked it open.
"Hello?"
Nothing. Maybe he's upstairs? I checked the bedrooms, the bathroom. His office in the back.
This was before everyone had a cell phone, mind you, so I couldn't just text him. Pete has always been a bit of a luddite. Wherever the world was, Pete was a decade behind.
But it didn't matter; I was sure Pete would be home soon. I dropped my bags, took a shower and shaved my legs. Stepped into this cute little lingerie number I bought in Opal. I thought Pete would like it. He always liked when I did little things like that.
I treated myself to a glass of Côtes du Rhône from the upstairs bar. Stepped through our sliding veranda doors onto the big balcony outside our second story bedroom.
It was a brisk summer evening, and the sun had just set. Crickets were in full swing. The world was quiet, with the occasional exception of faraway traffic or the echo of a barking dog.
We lived in an upscale, suburban neighborhood; all beautiful homes and manicured lawns, trees. Playgrounds in the backyards and swimming pools. The moon was out that summer night, and I could see roofs of houses, chimneys. The glowing gold of lit bedrooms and kitchens.
Right across our lawn, over the white picket fence, our neighbor's bedroom light came on. That's the Rossi house: Kim and Jack. They're an adorable young couple a few years younger than us. Beautiful, too.
I was always a little jealous of their looks. And their youth.
Kim came into view in the bedroom, wearing a pink tube top and sporty blue shorts. From where I was sitting, I couldn't see the door, but the blinds were open and I could see her full bedroom: the bed, the old mahogany chest with a model sailboat on the second shelf, the picture of her and Jack hiking on their nightstand. The full-length mirror on the far wall.
I watched as Kim pulled her tube top over her head, and I thought maybe I should step back inside and give her some privacy. But I had to acknowledge that she was beautiful.
I had never been attracted to women. I mean, I guess I'd never thought about it. I come from a place and time where women weren't supposed to be attracted to women, so I married Pete and that was that.
But Kim's body was so unlike my own. She was tiny, maybe 5'1 and 90 pounds soaking wet. She had that boyish bob cut that was so in vogue at the time, and she walked with an elegance and confidence that was hard to ignore, even from a woman so tiny.
I figured there was no harm in watching, just for a minute.
She absentmindedly turned to face the window as her arms disappeared behind her back. Her chest thrust forward a little to maneuver the clasp on her bra. It fell down all at once, revealing her tiny breasts and her perky nipples. I could see her ribs and her flat little stomach. I wish I still had that.
I sipped my wine and let my other hand drift to the inside of my thigh.
She pulled her shorts over her hips and let them drop to the floor. She wasn't wearing any underwear at all! Can you believe that? And even crazier, there wasn't a single hair between her legs. Totally smooth. She had thin little thighs and I watched her firm butt bounce as she scampered over to the mahogany chest. She rifled through and pulled out a matching set of black lingerie.
My fingers traced up my thigh and between my legs. I'd never watched another woman like this, especially not in the privacy of her own home.
Was I invading her space?
Was this a violation?
I watched as she pulled up a black g-string over her thighs and clasped her lacy top behind her back. She watched herself in the mirror, and I could see her eyes in the reflection. She tucked her short hair behind her ear and puffed out her perky tits, admiring her own body.
And who could blame her?
But then something happened. I was certain her eye caught mine in the mirror. My heart froze. But she surprised me. It might have just been my imagination, but I thought I saw her nibble on her bottom lip.
And I swear, I swear I saw her reflection... wink at me.
That was all I could take. Shame to the wind. I was gushing now, with my fingers between my legs and rubbing vigorously.
Kim turned back to the door and disappeared from view. I was intruding on her sexy night with Jack; this was their private time. I should have headed back inside just then. I was going to head back inside.
I promise.
But Kim appeared again, this time with a man. She had her legs wrapped around his waste, embraced in an intense kiss. He was much larger than her, and she looked tiny in his arms. But she was in control. In charge. As always, elegant in her smallness, even in the bedroom.
But that man wasn't Jack. I couldn't see his face because it was tucked in her shoulder, but I knew, without a doubt, Kim had someone else over.
