Lying in bed, later than he knew he should, summers light not stopped by the heavy black-out blind. Paul lay awake but not yet wanting to get up. Looking at his watch - 08:30 on a Saturday his mind easily castigated him for not being at the gym as he had promised himself.
Two years out of uni and living in a new city away from family he expected it all to happen. He was doing everything right. He had been promoted twice now - running a small team of recruiters he could not believe his salary. This flat - deposit funded by his annual bonus last year - was amazing. The long floor to ceiling windows allowed a view out towards an allotment - though he had to admit the motorway noise and the odd blue light siren did distract from the view a little.
He was proud of himself. Good job. Good flat. Getting to the gym most days. But, his hand down his boxers, his phone easily finding his favourite porn he hated his life. He thought making friends would be easy. In hindsight he wondered why he had thought that - he had always kept to himself. Through school, through uni, and even in the various clubs he had been part of he had done what was needed but had no real relationships outside of these things. Family great - but they were not who he wanted to be. Benefits, disability allowance, council houses - was not what he wanted for himself.
Why was this all so shit? Maybe his Fathers parting words would prove to be right.
"On you go Paul - you go and be the big man. You will be back here soon enough - tail between your legs. You are no better than us you know!" All said with a strange humour which somehow got a laugh from his cousins and mother - but the acerbic criticism was there clear enough for all to see. He hated his family.
Fuck! He though - this is shit. I am not going back there. Ever! His erection - hand automatically stroking - pushed aside by his anger. Sharply pulling his covers back he jumped out of bed and marched through to the kitchen/lounge area. Feeling better for being up now. Kettle on - he had never really been a tea or coffee drinker until he started work. Now, most of his meetings with new candidates and his small team, were in coffee shops. Pouring the boiled water into his cherished cafetière he felt the low mood slowly fade as he decided he could just enjoy a quiet - lazy morning - he deserved it.
Standing, coffee in hand, he looked out towards the motorway and allotments. The allotments always fascinated him - by how busy they were. Today was no different - with almost half the small squares of land busy with their respective "owners". He knew, from the various flyers and posters around the lift and at the front doot to the block of flats that it was a big thing for his neighbours. He also knew that to get a plot was a long waiting list - more than once the crazy green haired smiling neighbour had suggested he get on the waiting list.
He realised, that very same "crazy neighbour" as he badged her in his mind, was waving up to the flats. Was she waving at him? He wondered - but it suddenly donned on him with the strange waving arms and laughing face - she was trying to tell him he was showing more than he should. His cock, mostly soft, had settled outside of his boxers and even from across the street it must have been obvious.
Not wanting to admit that he was flashing the world he sheepishly but quickly stepped away from the full length window. Fuck. Fuck. He had just flashed the "crazy neighbour" - she was in her forties he thought and always wondered what she did for a living. She always seemed around the flat - and always seemed to be busy out the back in the allotment, or cycling - she seemed to be on her bike a lot, or from time to time he had seen her at his gym in the pool. He had to admit, staying away from the window - adjusting himself a little more, that for a woman in her forties she looked good in a swimming costume.
She had always known his name - maybe from her work as the "chair of the residents "team"" and had always said hello to him. The few times he had been caught in the lift with her - or waiting on the lift - she had always been very curious about his life. His work. His new flat. How he was settling in. Always offered to help with getting him involved in the allotment. Though she accepted it was maybe for older folks like her and not a "young thing" like him. More than once she had also asked if he wanted to join her cycling group. Mainly women she had said - but they managed a good 50 or 75km most weekends and it would definitely be better than "that stuffy gym" she saw him at.
She had - almost obsessively - been polite and helpful and now, he was horrified, he had flashed her. He stood - just enough that he could see out again to look for her without being seen himself from the allotment. He relaxed and coffee pushed aside - he started to enjoy his lazy morning. His cock, never quite soft from his earlier waking habit, again in his hand and he lay on his couch - still able to see the motorway and started to enjoy his Saturday morning.
The sharp knock, knock, knock at his door shocking him out of his reverie and pleasure, he froze.
"Morning Paul. Susan here!" she shouted from the other side of his front door. She continued again to knock - three sharp taps.
"Paul hate to be a nuisance - but I was not the only one to notice. Could we speak quickly?" the silence that followed and her words froze him. He did not answer - his hand frozen around his cock.
