tagExhibitionist & VoyeurBeating the Heat

Beating the Heat

byTrue North©

He woke up suddenly, sweaty, hot, twisted up in the bedding from thrashing around.

He didn't want to wake up. He had a splitting headache and was pretty sure that if he opened his eyes, it'd be painful. He threw back the sheet that still covered him swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there.

He sat still and listened. It was quiet. Quiet because the air conditioner had crapped out again in the middle of the night, the piece of shit. He held his head in his hands. It was pounding and the fact the room felt like 35 degrees didn't help.

He stood up and, eyes still closed, felt his way out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the bathroom. The windowless bathroom was always dark and he opened his eyes. In front of the toilet, he sighed as he took a long piss. He now felt a bit better, but his head was still splitting. He opened a drawer in the vanity, fished around for headache pills and popped three into his mouth. Bending at the sink, he turned on the tap and sucked enough water out of his palm to get them down.

As his eyes became used to the low light, he stumbled back into his bedroom, looked at his alarm clock to see it was 3 a.m. then opened the curtains on the window. He pulled the window open wide and felt no fresh air whatsoever entering the room. Figures, he thought. No air conditioning, no breeze, no cool. He was sweaty all over. Nice July night.

With his arms on the windowsill, he looked out at the stars which were dimming as morning approached. Head still pounding, he looked around the courtyard a floor below him. Nothing and nobody moved. No lights were on in any of the apartments across the way, but he could hear the rooftop air conditioner working over there, so all those bastards were likely nice and cool in their beds. Shit.

Suddenly, he noticed movement across the courtyard and below. Just a stone's throw away from his second floor balcony, but on the bottom floor of the neighbouring building, the door to the patio opened and a woman walked out onto the tiny concrete pad.

Looking down and across the courtyard, he saw her step onto the patio and move to the railing which surrounded it. She stood there, leaning on the railing, also looking around the courtyard. She appeared to be dressed in short black shorts and a black spaghetti strap top. She leaned a little further out over the railing, to look down the side of the building and he vaguely noticed she had light-coloured hair pulled back and what appeared to be a decent rack between her arms.

Nice, he thought. Looked like someone had moved into the formerly vacant apartment across from him. He watched as she looked around, like him, apparently not seeing anybody awake or in the courtyard. He continued leaning on his window sill as he watched her. She appeared to be of average height and looked to have earbuds in place. Who are you? he wondered. What are you listening to?

She straightened from the railing and stretched luxuriously. From what he could see, her shirt appeared to stretch nicely across her breasts. He looked at his alarm; only 3:20, still not enough light to see her decently. When he looked back, she was swaying to whatever music was playing from the iPod in her hand.

He watched as her body moved, slowly, hips moving, feet lightly shuffling to a beat. She raised her arms, the iPod in one hand, the chord dangling to her earbuds, and sensuously waved them as she slow danced by herself. He couldn't see, but he imagined her eyes were closed as she listened and swayed. He was glad the light wasn't on behind him.

As he watched her move, he reached down to his cock and began slowly stroking. As he hardened and stroked, his head pounded even more, but he didn't stop. He reached down to stroke his balls with his other hand, still watching her. Despite the pounding in his head, he continued. Stroking and watching, stroking and watching. Sweating even more freely now, he watched as she moved and, as he came, plugged his peehole with a finger so he wouldn't gush all over his wall.

Peehole plugged, he went back to the bathroom and the toilet where he released his cum into the toilet. Head and cock both throbbing, he spurted into the toilet, which at least provided some relief. He wiped up with some toilet paper, then went back to his window.

She wasn't there and he was a little disappointed. She must have gone back inside, where her air conditioning was likely working, to go to sleep. He flopped back onto his own bed and eventually fell into a fitful slumber. Cumming was always a help when he couldn't sleep.

A few days later, the sudden stop of the apartment's air conditioning woke him. In one moment, all was cool in his bedroom as the air conditioner wafted air over him, and in the next, he could feel the temperature rising and sweat breaking out at his hairline. He got out of bed, went over to the air conditioning control unit on the wall by the kitchen and checked it out. Sure as shit, it was blank, no temperature showing at all. In the quiet of the kitchen, he cursed.

Walking back into his bedroom, he looked at his alarm. 3 a.m. again. It was like the friggin' air was on a timer. He then looked out the window, his eyes drawn to her patio across the courtyard. He caught a quick glimpse of somebody, likely her, walking back into the apartment from the patio. Shit, he thought. Must have missed her. He'd have like to have seen a little more of that body...

That day after work, he was sitting on his balcony, having a cold beer and reading the sports pages. His team had won again, and looked good doing it. He sipped the beer. Life was good. He got up, walked inside to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of potato chips from a cupboard. He reached into the fridge, grabbed another beer then stepped back out onto the balcony. As he sat again on one of the lawn chairs he had bought for the balcony, he looked toward her patio.

She was there. He picked up his paper and held it so he could look over the pages and down toward her. She was wearing a black with white polka dots bikini and was placing a lounge chair on her patio. She walked back inside, then carried out a small table which she set near the lounger. She went in again and carried out an iPod, which she set on the table near her, along with some kind of large, fruity looking drink.

He could see now that she had curly blonde hair which fell almost to her shoulders. Plenty of cleavage too, he noticed, with nicely shaped breasts kept in place by a low-cut bikini top. He popped a couple of chips into his mouth, reached to grab his beer for a sip and the paper folded and fell away, giving a clear view of her as she stretched out on the lounger. He took the paper in both hands again, the better to watch her from behind.

Dipping the pages a little lower, he saw that she had moved the lounger so her legs were in the sun. She looked nicely tanned and the legs were well formed and nicely muscled. Leaning forward to reach for his beer, he lowered the paper and noted that, although most of her body was not in the sun, she looked tanned all over. He sat back, drank deeply and pretended to read his paper.

She had plugged in the ear buds again and was sipping her drink as she listened. She was wearing sunglasses, so he still couldn't see her eyes. She placed her drink on the table next to her and stretched out, putting her hands behind her head on the lounger. Her breasts lifted as she did so, and they strained lightly at the bikini top. His cock stirred beneath his boxers and shorts.

Okay, he thought, this is getting stupid. He couldn't just sit and get harder while she was lying over there. He sat forward, folded his paper, took his beer in hand and grabbed the bag of chips. As he stood to go inside, he looked down at her. She tipped up her sunglasses, looked up at him and gave a little wave. Hoping she couldn't see up at his crotch, he gave her a quick wave back and went inside. Whew.

He had to see more of her. Going to a closet, he rummaged around until he found the binoculars he usually kept stashed there for wildlife viewing. In his bedroom, he very slightly parted the curtains and looked out. Hmm. He couldn't quite see her because she was at the front edge of her patio. He walked back to the kitchen, picked up a chair and carried it into his bedroom. Placing it near the parted curtains, he stood on the chair and looked downward through the opening again. Perfect. He could see her stretched out on the lounger.

To keep the curtains nearly closed, he tipped the binoculars and looked through just one eyepiece, closing his other eye so he could focus. With the binoculars' magnification, he roamed over her body with his eye. Blonde, natural looking, still with the sunglasses on and nicely shaped lips with little or no lipstick. Nice, a natural girl. Moving downward, he noted that yes, the breasts were full and stretching the bikini material. At maximum magnification, he could just see nipples.

He hardened further as he gazed at her. Pulling the binoculars inside the curtains, he set them down on the chair. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the bed, then undid the belt, button and zipper of his shorts and pushed them and his boxers down his legs. He kicked them off onto the floor, then picked up the binoculars again.

He moved over her body, noting a quite flat belly, innie bellybutton and some kind of Celtic knot tattoo just above the bikini. He made a quick scan down her legs to pink-painted toenails, then back up to her crotch. There didn't appear to be a bush under the black and white bikini bottom and he couldn't see any hair peeking out from under the material. Holding the binoculars in one hand, he reached to his cock as he studied her groin area. Mmm.

He began stroking as he looked her over with the binoculars. Very nice, he thought. Glad you moved in. As before, he stroked as he watched her, imagining her body under the bikini and how warm her skin would be in the sun. He stroked for several minutes, then tossed the binoculars onto the bed and came into his other hand. He jumped off the chair, went to the bathroom and cleaned up, a big smile on his face.

The next day, before going to work in the morning, he ambled down the sidewalk out in the courtyard. Trying not to be obvious, he stepped off the sidewalk toward her patio and quickly looked up toward his balcony. His was the only one she could see because of a wall along her patio. Cool. That meant none of the other doofuses that lived in the place had his view of her. Sweet. It was nice to have an end unit. He walked to his car and headed to work with a smile on his face.

While at work, he found himself thinking back to watching her through the binoculars. When his cock began stirring again, he tried to quit thinking of her body. The situation, he realized, thinking about it, was kind of like that Hitchcock movie he'd seen on a classic movie channel. He couldn't remember the name of it, but the guy in the movie had busted his leg or something and spent his time watching people from his window. There was a murder involved, if he remembered right, but it was mainly about the guy watching people from his window. He smiled. It's like I'm in a movie.

He didn't see her for a few days. He'd been sleeping through the night as the air conditioner had been blissfully cooperative and after work, when he'd have a beer on his balcony, she hadn't seemed to be around. He felt a little cheated.

A week later, though, the temperature had been running at a record high for a few days and of course, the A/C crapped out in the middle of the night once again. Waking, he again had a bit of headache, was sweating and kicked off the sheet that had been covering him. It was quiet, as no air was blowing. He went into the bathroom, flicked on the light and dug out some headache medicine, he swallowed a couple of pills, then took a leak before going back into his bedroom.

As had become his habit, he opened the curtains and looked out and below, toward her patio. She was there. She was again stretched out on her lounger. He checked the time. 4:30 a.m. and the sky was lightening. He went out to the kitchen, grabbed the chair and placed it front of his bedroom window again. He then picked up the binoculars off the dresser and stepped up onto his viewing platform.

Looking down at her, he noted that this time, she was wearing white, but he couldn't tell if it was a bikini, maybe just bra and panties. Through the binoculars, he could see that her hair was pulled back again, that she had a small pendant hanging from a chain around her neck and that her earbuds were in place. Just as his cock was hardening once again as he looked her over, he saw that her eyes were closed. As he watched, though, she reached up and cupped a breast in one hand. Moving the binoculars, he could see she was fondling herself and lightly rubbing a nipple. His cock throbbed.

Then, as he watched, her hand moved from her breast down to her belly. He gulped as she slipped her hand inside her panties. He found himself holding his breath as he watched her hand move under the thin material; clearly, she was fingering herself, right there, right now. Wow.

His eyes were glued to her as she pulled her hand out of her panties, ran her fingertips over her body and then put them to her mouth. The tip of her tongue emerged and he watched as she licked her fingers lightly. He swallowed hard and watched as she moved her hand from her mouth and... looked up and waved at him.

Shit, he muttered and jumped down from the chair. Shit, she looked right at his window. He turned to put the binoculars back on the dresser and realized he'd left the bathroom light on. He groaned. With the light coming in his bedroom door, he must have been backlit at his window. She'd seen him watching her! Shit, shit, shit.

He went back to bed, but between the hot air in his room and the thought that the cops might be outside his door at any moment, he couldn't sleep. He barely managed to zombie his way through work the next day. He spent a lot of time considering how he could talk himself out of trouble if she lodged a complaint with the police.

For a few days, though, nothing happened. No police appeared at his door, she didn't seem to be around, and after complaints to management, the air conditioner had been running. He'd been sleeping through the night. He was wondering if she'd only been in the apartment on a short-term rental and had maybe left. Or left because she'd caught him watching her? Who knew?

Then, again one day after work, he was having a beer on his balcony when she appeared again on her patio. She was wearing the black and white bikini and sunglasses again and, although he felt like a fool, he waved at her. She looked up at him for several moments before waving back. Good, he thought, it can't be all bad.

As he drank his beer, she walked back inside, then returned with a drink, her iPod and a pair of binoculars. Shit, he thought, was she trying to make a point of some kind? With no newspaper or anything to hide behind, he just drank his beer and tried not to look her way.

That night, he couldn't sleep, but it wasn't because of a faulty air conditioner. He simply felt compelled to see if she was out there. He had to know if she was out there. He peeked out through the curtains. She was out there -- at 2 a.m., it was darker than usual. This time, he turned on no lights, got the chair, placed it in front of the window, climbed up on it and again parted the curtains slightly so he could look out through just the one eyepiece.

She was sitting on a chair at the table for a change, in her bra and panties again. There was a low wattage light on the table, giving off a soft glow, and she was writing on a pad of paper. Writing to a boyfriend? he wondered. She couldn't be working in the middle of the night could she? She had a cup of something on the table, and so were her binoculars. Odd.

He watched her as she sipped from her cup. She finished with whatever she was writing, then put her earbuds in again. Then, she put down her cup and toyed with the binoculars on the table. She picked them up, put them to her eyes and looked up in the direction of his window. Shit, he thought, pulling back into his room. Then he realized that she couldn't possibly see him. With no light on at all, he had to be invisible. Didn't he? He eased the one eyepiece between the curtains and she was still looking up at the window. What the hell?

He was sure she couldn't see him, but she kept looking up at where he'd be if she could see him. It was unnerving. Then she gave a wave in his direction. What the fuck? he thought. She couldn't see in the dark, could she? Was anybody's vision that good? What the hell was she up to?

He watched as she put down her binoculars, pulled out the earbuds and stood. Instead of just walking back inside her apartment, though, she stepped to the back of her patio and leaned against the wall. She waved up at where he was again; again making him wonder what she was doing and if she could actually see him, or was guessing he was there.

He continued watching through the one eyepiece. He simply couldn't look away. She was now just standing there, looking up toward his window. He was feeling that things were really not right at this point. Then, as he closely watched her face, she quit leaning against the window to stand, still looking up. Then, she amazed him by reaching behind her back and unclasping her bra. Still looking in his direction, she removed her bra. His cock sprang to life as he gazed at her full, well-rounded breasts. With the eyepiece pressed tight to his eye, she fondled her breasts with both hands and he reached down and began stroking as he watched her.

She rolled her nipples between her fingers, licked her lips and then cupped a breast in each hand, almost as if she was holding them out to him. Practically unblinking now as he watched and stroked, she bent and took her panties in hand. She then bent over slowly, pushing them down her legs and stepped out of them. She had no tan lines at all.

He moved his gaze up and down her body. Her pussy was bare and, as he watched, she moved her feet apart to spread her legs wide. His whole focus was between her legs, where the soft light barely illuminated the space. He gulped as she stood with her hands behind her back, facing his way and still looking up at his window. He felt sure he could see her lips, but it may have been his imagination, or just what he wanted to see.

Then, suddenly, she stepped to the table, picked up her iPod, binoculars, and writing paper and walked inside her apartment. Damn, he thought. That was un-fucking believable. He walked into his bathroom and, with her body in his mind, jerked off into the toilet once again, his cum flowing freely at the memory of what he'd just seen.

Now he didn't feel like such a weirdo. It was obvious she didn't mind him watching her. Maybe she was an exhibitionist? Or a nympho? He could only hope. He chuckled as he cleaned up again.

Yet another week passed, with no sign of her. He'd even walked down the sidewalk between buildings a couple of times, hoping to see her. He felt like asking around, to see if any neighbours knew her, but thought that'd be going too far. Besides, he didn't want to give anyone else any clue of what he'd been going through. Torture, sweet, sweet, torture. She was all he could think about; pretty much most of the time, and he found himself hoping like hell she'd make an appearance again. He'd thought of telling his buddy Steve what had happened, but he'd likely mess it up, or show up and scare her off by trying to get a look for himself. Steve was like that.

Another few days passed and he arrived home late on a Friday after meeting some friends at a sports bar to watch the football game. It was already dark and he went to the fridge for a beer. Then, as he did every day numerous times, he looked out his window to see if she was there. She was. She was wearing a bikini again, but kind of a lime green instead of the black and white one. He stepped back into his bedroom and stripped off his clothes, anticipating... well, he thought, who knew what?

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byTrue North© 5 comments/ 40859 views/ 2 favorites

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