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 ï>¿Seeing Is Believing

   I barely even knew her to say hello to, let alone her name, but every
weeknight she'd come home, turn on the light and I'd catch a brief glimpse
of her before she pulled the curtains.  I was invariably sat at my small
dining table with my laptop open, my face illuminated by the glow from the
screen.  No matter what movie or box set I was watching I always found
myself distracted by her movements across the street.  Perhaps it was
because I was a single twenty-five year old man and she was pretty.  Okay,
no "perhaps"  -" it was certainly because I was a single twenty-five year
old man and she was pretty.  And because I was soon to be a twenty-six year
old man and beginning to worry about how close I was getting to my thirties
without meeting anyone. This evening began in exactly the same way.  I
can't remember what I was watching when the light in her sitting room came
on but I was transfixed as she strode from one side of it to the other.  I
don't know what she does for a living, but she's usually wearing a grey
skirt and white blouse when she comes home at the end of the day.  Not that
I'm watching in an unhealthy way, you understand. She walked around the
room and disappeared out of sight.  Then the bedroom light came on and she
crossed back and forth sorting out clothes.  It was very rare for her to be
in the bedroom with the curtains open and I tried to make it look as if I
was staring at my computer in case she looked over.  I wasn't sure how much
she would see of my face from the reflected light of the screen, but eyes
have this funny way of meeting and I didn't want to be caught staring
straight at her. She began to unbutton her blouse.  Yup, you heard that
right: she began to unbutton her blouse.  Whatever was playing on my screen
no longer mattered.  Her actions were hurried and concentrated.  I presumed
her curtains would be closed when she realised what she was doing, which
meant I had to imprint this moment on my memory while I had the chance.
She pulled the blouse off of her arms and tossed it onto the bed.  I
licked my lips as I stared across at her.  Okay, from this distance she was
only really a shape in a white bra and grey skirt, but my imagination was

filling in plenty of detail. She pushed her skirt down over her hips.  I
couldn -(TM)t believe this was happening, but she made such gorgeous shapes
as she wriggled out of it.  She had rather nice legs.  They looked good
from here anyway. She reached behind her back and my heart was pounding as
she began to fiddle with the clasp of her bra.  As she fumbled she began to
walk, and I let out a deep breath of disappointment as she disappeared into
another room.  Damn: show's over. Or so I thought, as she reappeared in the
sitting room with her bra in her hand.  She dropped it onto a piece of
furniture.  I wished I had better eyesight, because if her breasts were
anything like I imagined them to be then she was the most beautiful woman I
had ever seen. As she pushed her underwear down her thighs I slowly folded
down the screen of my laptop, not wanting to make a movement that would
attract attention and not wanting her to look up and suddenly see me
staring across at her naked body.  Her.  Naked.  Body.  It still sounds
good to say it. She glanced up as I closed the lid.  I froze.  Surely her
curtains would be closed now. Yet still they weren't, and as I watched her
she stood, facing directly towards me, naked from head to toe.  She raised
her hands over her head and stretched upwards. I realised I was craning my
neck.  I daren't get closer to the window but my eyeballs were trying to
drag me there regardless.  She lifted one leg off the ground and placed the
sole of her foot against her knee, and it dawned on me that I was
witnessing the most amazing yoga workout I was ever likely to see. I had to
fidget in my seat to relieve the pressure in my crotch as an erection
pressed against my jeans.I couldn't take my eyes off of her.  One slow,
perfect pose after another she bent forwards, sideways, leant and
stretched. I was torn between keeping all my attention on the naked show
before me and wanting to unzip my jeans.  But I was just too terrified for
that.  It was bad enough if she saw that I was watching and a whole other
level of embarrassment if somehow she caught sight of me jacking off at the
same time. As she ran through her sequence and finally stood, arms loosely
by her sides, breathing deeply enough that I could see her breasts rising
and falling even, I thanked the day I had decided to move into this
apartment and not the one two doors across or the one just down the stairs.
I almost wanted to wave as she disappeared out of the room at last, and I
took a deep breath as the exhilarating ride ended.  I could only hope that
it would be repeated again one day, although I didn't realistically see it
as a likely prospect. I wondered about the etiquette of voyeurism.  What if
she did see me watching?  Should I leave my light on so that she knew I was
here?  That would prompt her to close the curtains, as it seemed certain
that since my lights were off she would assume that no-one was at home to
see her. Decency suggested that I do just that: leave my light on.  But I
knew I wouldn't.  If she wanted to strip naked in her front room and I got
a kick out of seeing her do it, then what harm was done?  None at all, as
long as she never found out. As long as she never found out.  That was the
key. I was about to lift my laptop lid and continue watching whatever it
was when she reappeared in her bedroom wrapped in a towel.  I guessed she
was sorting out clothes for the next day, although I could have done that
for her: white blouse, grey skirt, although sexy underwear would be
appreciated if she was going to strip for me again. I was instantly
attentive again as she unwrapped the towel from around her body.  And let
me clarify that this was her naked body.  She curled the towel around her
head and returned to sorting through her clothes.  Moving naturally, she
was even more beautiful than she had looked in the yoga session.  The way
her breasts fell away from her body when she opened a set of drawers and
peered into them for tomorrow's underwear; the way her hips swayed as she
walked across the room; the way her body arched as she reached for a blouse
from the wardrobe. She disappeared again, but this time there was no way I
was going back to my laptop.  I waited for nearly ten minutes trying to
catch any glimpse of her, and was rewarded as she reappeared in her sitting
room, still naked with a towel around her head, and eating from a bowl. 
She sat at a table and continued eating as she too stared at a digital
screen.  I would love to know what it was.  In fact, I would love to know a
whole lot more about her altogether.  I'd never been brave enough to try to
engage her in real conversation before and I certainly wasn't about to
after tonight, but never had I had more of a desire to do so.  I knew I was
in danger falling in love with an idealised fantasy of a woman, that I knew
nothing at all about her, but given how little else I had going on in my
life I really didn't see that as a bad thing. She finished eating and
disappeared to the kitchen once more, and then returned to her bedroom,
still naked, towelling her long blonde hair.  She crossed to the window and
reached up and pulled one curtain across.  Her figure was amazing as her
arm lifted above her, but I couldn't believe she was doing what she was
doing.  As close to the window as she was anyone in the street below would
be able to see her.  The second curtain was pulled across and my body
slumped with disappointment. I was lifted again as she reappeared in the
sitting room, but again she crossed to the window and pulled at the
curtain. She paused, appearing to glance down the street, then across at my
window and I froze, terrified that she might see me.  Do human eyes reflect
light in this kind of darkness, or is that just nocturnal predators?  Would
she realise she was being studied like a cat waiting for a mouse?  She
showed no signs of seeing me as the final curtain closed. Well, that had
been quite a treat.