A Reluctant Nudist Ch. 04

Although the temperature in my room could not have been much above freezing, the excitement of what I was doing had suppressed the urge to get beneath the covers of the bed. I just layed there pondering my next action. I thought of the photos I had taken and wondered if his view was like the ones on Polaroid. Rather than wanting to cover myself up, I was almost desperate in my desire that he should see every last little part of me. I knew that he had seen my bare arse nearly every night for the last couple of weeks and now at last he could see my tits and fanny but this still didn't seem enough.

Whether it was because of the cold air or as a result of the excitement of my own nudity, I was not sure, but my nipples were quite firm now and were tingling all over. I started to run my fingers over them and to trace circles around them, causing me to become extremely horny. I brought my knees up, opening them at the same time and put my ankles behind my head for a moment, knowing that I would now be wide open down below (as from one of the photos I had taken). I then dangled both legs down either side of my quite narrow bed so that I was absolutely sure that he could see everything I had to show him. I then slowly slid my hand down between my legs and started to caress and play with myself with my right hand whilst still pulling on my nipples with the other. All the while I continued to look straight across to his window where I could still see those two big white bug like eyes peering back at me. I can still remember exactly my thoughts as I started to come.

"Just try ignoring me now you rude bastard."

After that, all I can remember is turning off the light and hopping between the sheets and having one of the deepest night's sleep I had had in a very long time. I do remember though, having that recurring dream again where I walked naked through the High street, but I was awoken by my mum half way through it, knocking on my bedroom door. I had a slight headache which was probably the result of a mild hangover so I was happy to see that she was bringing me a cup of tea because my mouth was very dry.

When she came in, she commented on how untidy my room was seeing my clothes and nightwear scattered around the bed. On noticing that I was wearing nothing, she scolded me for not putting my pyjamas on, saying that it was shameful to sleep naked and that I would catch my death of cold. She also got up me about the curtains not being closed and to make sure that I closed them up in future as you never know who might be watching. I laughed inside thinking, if only she knew. I made the point that they didn't close properly anyway so why bother. She tried shutting them herself but had the same problem as I had.

The next week she made a new pair of curtains for my window and took great pride in closing them herself every evening before I got home only for me to open them again before I turned on my light and got changed. For a while after that, I made the point of always facing the window when I stripped off and I would walk around my room starkers until I had to go downstairs or went to bed. I never touched myself like that for him again as I couldn't summon up the courage but I did make sure that he always copped an eyeful when I did my exercises next to my bed. Even now the thought of him watching me do my leg lifts still brings a tingle to my spine.

So regrettably, that was the one and only time I put on that show for my not so secret admirer. He got relocated to another council house on the other side of the railway lines fairly soon afterwoods. I never got the satisfaction of confronting him on the street again, which was a shame as I had carefully worked out what I was going to say to him if I did and he ignored me one more time. It went something like,

"Ignore me now and it's back to the flannelette I'm afraid."

She said that she had rehearsed that line over and over again in her head but didn't really know if she would have had the guts to actually deliver it, had she got the chance.

Helen telling me this story brought back vivid memories of the previous incident that I have recalled concerning my sister and it only served to convince me that my theory concerning the connection did have some validity to it. It also made me very horny imagining her at fifteen showing herself nude and frigging off in front of that guy. It even became one of my favourite fantasies on the occasions when I was alone and needed to relieve myself, me naturally always taking the part of Mr O'Keefe.

I guess the point I'm trying to make here is that Helen went out of her way to make that definite connection with her voyeur neighbour by deliberately greeting him in the street when she came across him. Had she not known he was watching her she would have still known him but probably not bothered to acknowledge him. The fact that she eventually wanted to show herself off to him, even to the point where she tried to shock him into not ignoring her any more, makes this whole episode that much more erotic and meaningful. It must have also made his activities more exciting for him too, suspecting that she knew that he was watching her. If both parties had just been anonymous to each other then the only stimulation would have been visual and perhaps self generated, the vital ingredient of a truly erotic situation completely missing. It would have been interesting to see if he would have ignored her greetings in future, had he not been relocated. I find it hard to believe that he would have.