My screen finally goes dark, I hit the power-off button and walk briskly out of the office. I bound down the stairs in 3s, by the time I reach the ground floor I am almost running.
I’m later than usual, and I’m afraid that I might miss seeing her. She who brightens every working day, her casual smile and brief hello sets my heart aflutter. She’s the only reason I stay until after 5; knowing that I’ll see her on my way home is all the motivation I need.
I walk as fast as I can, my work shoes beating a steady clack, aiding me to keep my pace up. My luck seems in as pelican crossing after pelican crossing is in my favour. As I near the street where I see her, my heart is pounding, not just from the quick walking, but from the anticipation, the adrenaline rising.
With one more corner to turn, I slow to my usual walking pace, trying to compose myself. I have a light shine of sweat on my brow, and feel the need to loosen my coat despite the winter chill. I turn the corner.
I look to the far end of the street, she’s not there. My heart sinks, shoulders droop. I scan the faces walking towards me, desperately searching for her.
And then I see her, just 30 or so yards away. My heart palpates with the sudden release of butterflies. I try to maintain the façade of composure as we near. She still hasn’t seen me when she suddenly turns and walks up the short path to one of the houses.
From my position, I see her reach up and insert a key into the door, she walks inside. The door slamming shut halts me in my tracks. I’m now just a few steps away from her house. Her House. I never even realised she lived on this road – all those months of friendly smiles and brief hellos and I’d never once seen her walk into her house before.
The butterflies multiplied with the realisation that I now knew where she lived, my cheeks glowed.
Movement in the corner of my eye drew my attention, I saw her stretching again, this time as she drew the curtains. She had taken her coat off, and I could see the outline of her breasts against her cream top as she moved. The orange red and blue circle pattern of the curtains complementing her curves. I felt something stir inside me, my benign infatuation was morphing into latent lust.
My left knee snapped out, the headiness of my obsession making me weak in the leg. I caught myself and resumed walking. After a few steps I drew level with her house. There was a small gap in the curtains through which light shined.
I was transfixed, like a rabbit in headlights. There was a flicker as she passed between the light and the window. Before I knew it, my feet were taking me towards the window, through the gate and into the small front garden. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Adrenaline coursing through my veins, blood pumping in my temple, butterflies dancing in my gut, my sensibilities had long left me. I stood and looked through the gap into the room beyond.
A sofa, royal blue and adorned with orange and red scatter cushions was the focal point of the room. On it she sat, her cream top accompanied by a pinstripe skirt which ended just above her knee. She had her phone in one hand, whilst her other was tousling her short cropped hair.
Her hand languished in her hair, before dropping, almost in slow motion to her lap, pausing at her neck, my eyes followed down the curves of her frame. She put her phone down and turned, looking straight at the window. My heart leapt into my mouth, and I tried to move away, but I was stuck to the spot. Had she seen me?
The swirl of chemicals and emotions flowing through me had taken over me, I didn’t care if she had, I was transfixed by the beauty before me.
Her eyes flicked away from the window, perhaps she hadn’t seen me. The excitement building, I felt the need grind, bringing with it the realisation that my whole groin was tingling with excitement. I put my hand down my trousers, pushing aside my underwear, and beginning to rub gently, I was already wet and swollen.
Peering through the window, I watched as she removed her shoes. I watched her slide each shoe from her foot, before cupping them, and giving them a rub through the nylons she was wearing. I found this enormously erotic, causing me to rub a little faster.
Having finished removing both shoes, she slid her skirt up, and again I watched, agog, as she unfastened the clip from the top of a stocking, before shifting to the side slightly and unclipping the second clip. I watched as she pushed the top of the stocking down her thigh and over her knee, where it fell to the floor to reveal her calf. A small tattoo crept around her ankle.
This was too much for me, and I couldn’t withhold my desire any more. My finger slipped down further, furrowing between my labia to my vagina. I could not believe how turned on I was, I leaned forward slightly, my heavy breath fogging the glass.
I watched as she removed the other stocking, my desire for her hurrying the intent of my wanking. I was now using two fingers, thrusting quickly and firmly, trying to savour every moment of illicit enjoyment.
I let out the breath I had been holding in a deep pant. The release of air seemed to take the pleasure to another level, and my left leg started to shake slightly. I bit down on my lip to try and contain any noise.
Lifting my leg against the wall to get a better angle of penetration, I watch as she stands up from the settee, feeling a surge of wanton as she bends over to pick up the stockings. She also pulls something pink from under the sofa.
It’s slippers. Resting a foot on her knee, she puts one on, and then the other. She turns and leaves the room.
“DON’T GO NOW” I silently scream, my head bangs on the window as my hope wanes. I wait.
Minutes pass, my hand down my trousers lifeless. She doesn’t return. But I must. Return home to build on my fantasy.