Chapter Two
It felt seedy to be standing there by my bedroom window looking across the property line at a window to a guest-suite bathroom of my neighbor's house. Its blinds were lowered, and I could see curtains at both margins of the wide, double-paned window. I can't recall ever noticing the window open or even lights on in that room, and it was no different when I moved an adjustable swivel chair from my home office squarely in front of my window looking toward the window not 45 feet away directly across from mine.
I raised my blinds and stood there, wearing the basketball shorts I had worn outside in my steamy exchange with my lovely and uninhibited neighbor Kim, now freeing herself from her estranged, parasitic husband, Roger.
My manhood was still harder than college algebra, the protrusion in my red hoops shorts still conspicuous. Nothing that now burned in my mind's eye -- Kim's cleavage, the suggestion of hardening nipples visible through her sports bra and her T-shirt, and the distinct camel toe in her form-fitting Carolina blue bike shorts -- did anything to soften the boner that would have done a guy half my age proud.
Across the way, a light came on in the Rainey second-floor guest bathroom. A few seconds later, the blinds raised and the curtains widened. And then Kim took her place squarely in the middle of the window frame. She was still wearing what she had worn as she sweated pushing her mower under the midday Tennessee sun.
She leaned forward and opened the bottom half of her window, letting the warm breeze in and motioned for me to do the same. I fumbled with the latch and coaxed the window open, suddenly invigorated by the balmy, fresh air that swept into my bedroom, heavy with the scent of the blooming magnolia tree that stood in my property near its line with the Raineys and blocked any possible view of our windows from the street.
"You first," I could hear Kim saying faintly through her open window across divide.
Why so nervous? I wasn't in some woman's physical embrace. It was impossible to see what was going on in the privacy of our rooms in our separate houses shared only through two windows. Even someone standing at the property line directly beneath both windows would only be able to glimpse the ceilings of those respective rooms and nothing that was going on within them. I planned bolder exploits once my divorce was final, so what's the sense of being jittery here?
So what the hell? In for a penny, in for a pound, I reasoned to myself, and lowered my basketball shorts, stepping my bare feet out of them and stood there with my erection jutting proudly upward. I heard a muffled gasp from the window next door.
Kim just stood there for a moment staring at me, clad only in my blue Memphis Grizzlies T-shirt, my penis seeming to stand at attention saluting the team logo. Her right hand moved beneath the waistband of her stretch-knit shorts where I could see her fingers kneading the spot where I had clearly beheld the cleft of her vulva.
I joined in the fun, lightly running my fingertips up and down my rigid shaft, from the underside of the flared head down to my drooping balls and back.
Kim pulled her hand free of her shorts and quickly shed her yellow crop top and, with both hands, squeezed her breasts beneath her sheer sports bra. She lowered the shoulder straps and the cups, allowing me the first glimpse of her swollen, dark pink rosebud nipples. She stuck first one thumb and then the other into her mouth, wetting them with her saliva, and then used each to swirl around her engorged areolae and as she held each breast in her palms.
