Partial View

Angie wanted the apartment before she'd even seen the whole thing. In fact, as soon as she walked in she had to stop for a second and squeeze her legs together to steady herself.

The building manager, a thick man in his forties, was saying something that Angie almost missed. "This is what's called a partial view. If you, ah, stand right over here and lean over," he said, "You can see downtown."

Angie did as he suggested purely out of politeness. Who would stand by the wall and crane their neck to see the tops of some buildings? No, the real draw for her—and she knew it was a drawback for others—was the windows. She was getting wet just thinking about the possibilities.

Surely the designer of this apartment building had failed architecture school. The three windows, almost floor to ceiling, took up nearly the entire back wall. But say what he might about tilting over and seeing downtown, the real view from the windows much closer. A mere ten or fifteen feet across an airshaft were the windows from other apartments in the same building. The height of the windows meant Angie could see not only into the windows across the way, but into the windows of the apartments on the floors below and above.

"I don't know about this view," said Angie, doing her best to frown. Her nipples were rock hard.

"The, ah, bedroom has a more, ah, complete view, if you wanna take a look." It was obvious the landlord was worried Angie would just leave. It was a renter's market and she knew he'd been trying to unload the place for a while now; she'd seen the ad in the paper for nearly three weeks. What had stopped her from coming to see it? To think she'd almost missed out on this gem!

The view in the bedroom turned out to be "better", but not by much. From the window in line with the living room there was a true view of downtown, the one you couldn't quite enjoy from the living room. The window on the perpendicular wall looked across at a window from the building next door. Angie hid a grin of delight. Her dorm roommate Kelly would be incredibly jealous.

It was Kelly who had introduced Angie to the thrill of watching and being watched, not to mention of teasing mercilessly. Kelly loved to ever so innocently expose a nipple or a flash of thigh or even her bare pussy to unsuspecting bystanders. It was Kelly who had first dared Angie to try it for herself. It was Kelly who had come up with the idea of tormenting the local pizza delivery guys by answering the door in skimpy lingerie. Sometimes she would even convince her dates that Angie slept like a rock and they would fuck right there in the room, just a few feet away, with Angie peeking from behind a sleep-mask with narrow eye-slits cut in it and soaking her panties in frustrated excitement. Angie longed to try this for herself, to be thoroughly fucked while someone watched, someone who couldn't do anything about it. She hadn't yet had the opportunity, but it was high on her to-do list.

But living in a co-ed dorm had given her plenty of opportunities for teasing. She and Kelly had even had a game of seeing who could cause the most erections in a given amount of time. It made her wet just thinking of all those cocks, hard, aching, unsatisfied, wanting her. And these windows... what she could do with these window.

"I don't know about this apartment," she said sadly. "You see, I'm a bit worried about my... privacy."

"The last tenant put up heavy curtains. In fact, look, they're still there. You can just slide them shut and you'll be fine."

"But then I wouldn't have any sunlight. We do need sunlight, you know."

"Well, ah, the kitchen and bath have just been renovated. Maybe you take a look at those before you make up your mind. New, ah, fixtures and everything. This is a good area. A nice area for starting out. You're a young girl. Just starting out in your career, probably, right?"

"Almost. I got into grad school and my friend Kelly's dad is going to let me work in his office as a secretary to pay the bills."

"Oh, that's nice. My mother was a secretary. And that Grad school. You'll really, ah, go places. Now look. Look at that tile floor. Brand new. Never been walked on." He turned on each of the faucets, and demonstrated the swivel action of the spigot. "Hah? How 'bout that? Not bad, eh? Let's check out the bathroom."

Angie followed him, not really listening about the wonders she would see in the bathroom, but doing rapid calculations in her head.

"How 'bout that? You can take some nice baths in that tub. Ladies like to take baths, right? Heh, heh."

Angie gave him a sharp look that silenced the nervous laughter immediately.

"Listen Mr. Miller—"

"Sam."

"OK, Sam, you're right about the fixtures, but those windows. I just don't know. Anyone can look in on me and I'm a young woman alone... well you can see how I'd be a bit reluctant." She overplayed the prim and uptight role a little, afraid Sam would notice her flushed cheeks and neck and realize how much she wanted to live here. "And who lives across the way?"

"The neighbors are all nice people. Quiet, you know. Guy across the way is some kind of writer. Nice guy. And the, ah, curtains are still there and you can always, ah, get blinds or shades as well if you want more light."

"It will be a huge inconvenience though. And the place is a bit expensive for me. I wonder if you'd consider making a bit of a reduction in the rent, you know, to make up for it."

"Maybe we could, ah, work something out," said Sam, scratching his receding hairline. "Here you are trying to further your education and all. And between you and me and the lamppost, this place has been empty for a while."

"Has it?"

"Yeah. Tell you what, Miss Wilson—"

"Please. Call me Angie."

"Angie. Tell you what. I can give you a hundred dollars off the rent per month. Now I can't go any lower than that, but I can give you a hundred dollars."

"A hundred dollars. Well I suppose that helps. But there's also the moving expenses to deal with. I'm not sure if I can scrape that together if I have to buy blinds for all the windows."

"Well how bout this, I'll get my, uh, truck and help you move for free? And the first is a week away, but you can move in now if you want, no charge. You know, give you that extra time to fix it up and all. Would that help you out?"

"Yes, it would help me out a lot. Thank you so much, Sam. If you do that, I should probably be able to manage it."

"Great. When do you wanna move in? Place is ready now, you know. If you have your checkbook, we can go down to my office and sign the lease and then I'll give you a key.

O

It hadn't taken long to move in from the dorms and now she was about to spend her first night in her new apartment. She decided to order a pizza and have a little fun with the delivery boy. It would be the first time she tried it alone, as the center of attention and she planned to be more subtle than Kelly usually was. After ordering, she got into the shower, leaving the bathroom door open so she would hear the doorbell when it rang. Letting the warm water run over her body and rinse away the slippery soap, she wondered which of the boys from the pizza place would show up. Naturally she'd scoped out the place first. Her pussy was already whispering to her, begging for relief. She pinched her dark nipples and ran her hands over her smooth, perky breasts that just barely overflowed her cupped hands but she didn't touch her pussy, not yet, because she knew if she started, she'd never stop.

Finally the doorbell rang.

Angie turned off the water and called out, "Just a minute!" Without drying off, she pulled a plain pink t-shirt over her head, just long enough to cover her round ass. She let her long, dark hair hang sopping in front of her breasts. The t-shirt quickly clung to her wet body as she went to the door. A glance out the peephole told her she had exactly the target she wanted and there was no need to grab for her terry robe.

"Hi," she said as she opened the door. "Sorry, I guess I took a little longer in the shower than I meant to." Water dripped down her bare brown legs and puddled around her red-painted toenails.

The delivery boy's eyes went wide and he appeared to be speechless. He looked young, maybe a college freshman or sophomore.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," Angie continued. Then she pushed her hair back behind her shoulders and the boy gasped. Angie pretended not to notice, but she knew that the wet hair had completely soaked through the fabric over her breasts, rendering it practically transparent and making it cling to her curves. She knew her hard, dark nipples were plainly visible to the boy and she felt a rush. Not all of the moisture on her thighs had come from the shower.

"No... problem," the boy finally managed to say. He held out the pizza box. "It's $11.99."

"Let me just grab my purse," Angie said. She had deliberately hung it on a high up hook next to the door. She reached up for it and felt the hem of the t-shirt tickling her thighs as it rose, and rose, until the boy let out a strangled sound.

He can see my pussy, my naked pussy. He's looking at my pussy right now and it's making his cock hard.

Slightly dizzy, she pulled the purse down as though she had no idea of what just happened, and counted out some money.

"Here you go," she said. She handed him the money and took the pizza box from him. Glancing at his jeans, she was thrilled to see an obvious bulge in the crotch.

"What's your name, by the way?" she asked. "I just moved in and I'm not much of a cook, so I'll probably be ordering a lot of pizza."

"Br... Brandon."

"Thanks, Brandon. My name's Angie. I'll see you around." She swung the door shut and immediately peered out the peephole. Brandon was still standing there as if stunned. Finally he put a hand over the bulge in his pants, shook his head, and walked away.

"Excellent," said Angie. She abandoned the pizza on the kitchen counter and went into the bedroom. She pulled off the t-shirt and lay across her soon to be replaced futon. She remembered Brandon's surprised look and sighed. One hand squeezed a nipple and the other went to her obscenely wet pussy. She thought about Brandon's hard cock clearly outlined through his jeans and she began to rub her clit. Had he waited in the hallway for his erection to go away? Was he walking back to work now, his balls aching and uncomfortable? Or had he jerked off in the stairwell? Maybe he was still out there in the fire exit, eyes closed, jeans unzipped, leaning against the wall, stroking his rock-hard penis and hoping none of her neighbors caught him. She rubbed harder, dipping her fingers into her slit so she could spread the copious wetness where she wanted it most, her engorged clit.

"Brandon," she whispered. "I know you saw me... I know you wanted me... I know I made your cock hard..." Her back arched and she moaned. It felt so good. It always felt better when someone had just seen her. Just seen her bare cunt. "Oh, God—" Then she came, delirious shards of pleasure falling through her, new wetness pooling between her thighs.

When had she recovered, she went to the dark living room. She had yet to see the nice writer guy from across the way, or anyone else, and she was curious. The thick velvet felt soft on her damp, nude body as she parted the heavy drapes just slightly. This time the light across the way was on and the blinds were up. The writer guy was there. A white guy with dark-rimmed glasses sat facing her behind a computer. His forehead was furrowed under his dark hair and he was squinting at the screen. He suddenly got up from his chair, causing Angie to jump back, and began to pace up and down the room. He had a nice body, Angie thought. Then, just as suddenly, he was back in his chair, typing furiously. He typed for a long time and Angie eventually got bored and closed the drapes again.

But she was happy. The writer guy was cute and his computer setup was in the perfect spot to watch her, assuming he left his blinds open. Angie ate a couple of slices of pizza and then went to bed. It had been a long day and she had a lot of furniture shopping to do tomorrow.

As she was drifting to sleep, she heard a noise that made her eyes pop open. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she had imagined it, it happened again. Heavy breathing. It sounded like it was coming from the window directly across from her own bedroom window. Then the moaning started, the gasps and groans. Her neighbors were having sex. Angie felt herself getting wet again. She went to the window and peeked around the curtain. It was warm, so both her window and the neighbors' were open. Their lights were off, but the blinds were up, and she could see them there in the shadowy moonlight.

She was keeling over him. Her hair was hiding her face, but she was obviously sucking his cock. He had his hands buried in her hair. It was even better than watching Kelly and her dates because she didn't have to pretend to be asleep. Her hand went to the warmth between her legs. Across the way, the guy suddenly pulled his partner's mouth away from his dick and had her straddle him. Angie watched as the woman impaled herself on his erection.

The thrill of watching, of sharing in their pleasure, was intense, and she was almost ready to come, but she held back, rubbing her clit softly and enjoying the sensations. She wondered if they noticed that someone had moved in next door, if they knew she could hear them. The neighbor woman was moaning faster now, high pitched and wanton and Angie felt every sound echoed in her stiff clit. Her partner was not as vocal, but Angie could clearly hear his ragged breathing and the occasional guttural groan.

The woman seemed to be losing control of herself. Head thrown back, she was rubbing her clit and crying out incoherently. Her man reached up and grabbed her by the waist, moving her body harder down onto his prick. Angie bit her lip. She couldn't stop herself any more, she couldn't wait. She rubbed herself harder, and felt her body start to dissolve in pleasure. She closed her eyes as the woman across the way let out a sustained moan. She was coming too. They were coming together. Angie's other hand grasped the windowsill to keep herself from collapsing.

Across the way, the man's groaning came faster and he growled, "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna fucking come..."

"Yes, baby," moaned the woman, still moving on top of him. "Oh, yes, come for me..."

"Yes, baby," whispered Angie, leaning against the wall, eyes closed, waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal.

O

The next day Angie went out shopping for a bed. A real apartment deserved a real bed. But this would not be just any shopping trip. Yesterday's events had been exciting, but instead of sating her, the orgasms had only made Angie hornier. The day was warm and she wore a short, flowered skirt and a white camisole top. Over that, she wore a denim jacket. The camisole, sans bra of course, was revealing and she needed the jacket if she didn't want to be obvious like Kelly. But even with the jacket on, she got a flattering number of looks from men in the street, and she walked slowly, enjoying the feeling of her smooth thighs brushing each other and her hair fluttering against her neck. It was so nice to be looked at, to know men wanted to touch her, to peek under her skirt.

The mattress store was nearly empty. Angie browsed a bit near the front, where the high-end mattresses were. She bounced up and down on a couple of them, but they were way out of her price range. She worked her way toward the back. There were more mattresses on the mezzanine level, so she went up the stairs to check them out, catching the salesman's eye on her way up. He was talking to some customers and he motioned that he would be right with her. No one was on the mezzanine and Angie quickly slid off her damp pink panties and stuffed them into her purse.

Oh, God. She had been slightly turned on all day, but just knowing her pussy was bare made her start to get seriously wet. She browsed the mattresses some more, testing firmness and looking at price tags. One mattress caught her eye, a soft-looking Kingsdown. She sat down on it and she liked the way it yielded but didn't dip.

"Can I help you with anything, Miss?" The salesman had reached the top of the stairs. He was a big guy, maybe in his mid-thirties, thinning brown hair pulled into a ponytail.

"Yes, actually," said Angie. "I like this mattress, I think, but I'm not sure."

"Kingsdown is a good brand," said the salesman. "You can lie on it if you need to get a better idea... that's it. I do recommend the Kingsdown because you get a lifetime warranty."

"Lifetime? Wow." Angie lay down on the mattress, her strappy sandals over the strip of plastic at the foot of the mattress.

"Mmm, comfy," she said. She stretched her arms up over her head luxuriously, but kept her legs firmly together—wouldn't want to be too obvious--yet.

The sales guy rambled on about the mattress, something about coils per foot and stitching and things, but Angie had stopped listening. With her arms over her head, her jacket had fallen open, leaving her breasts in the white top exposed. As she watched, her nipples hardened under the fabric. Was he looking? Could he see how they stood up so hard and pointy over her soft mounds? She though she saw his eyes stray, but maybe he was just peeking over the wall to the selling floor below.

"Mmm," she moaned again, longer this time, more sensually, and rolled over on the bed. This action caused her skirt to ride up a bit and she could feel cooler air on her upper thighs. The salesman's voice faltered just slightly in his spiel.

"So what kind of mattress are you looking for?" he finally said.

"Something comfortable but firm," said Angie. She raised herself up on her elbows and looked over her shoulder at him. "Can you do me a favor? Can you lie on the bed next to me? I want to see if it's firm enough to keep us both from rolling into the middle, you know?"

He hesitated.

"Come on, please?"

"Uh, ok," he said. He sat on the bed awkwardly, very close to the edge, and swung his legs up. He laid his head down carefully and smiled at her. "It's one of the top brands," he said.

"Closer," she said. "Otherwise I can't tell what the mattress will do. He edged closer and Angie flipped over so that she was on her back again, her achingly erect nipples once more on display, her face turned towards him. She had to slow herself down, but she was impatient. She wanted to hear his breathing quicken and his words blur and slur as he tried to pretend he wasn't turned on. She wanted to make him hard, she wanted to see his cock straining against his khaki pants, too obvious to ignore.

He was definitely looking at her breasts this time. How could he not, with her nipples so hard and dark pushing against the white fabric? Angie raised her knees, knowing her pussy was now exposed to anyone who happened to come up the stairs. The sweet, musky scent of her arousal drifted faintly around them. Her fingertips absentmindedly caressed her taut stomach. "It's very comfortable," she said. "I can imagine sleeping on this every night." She bounced up and down a little. "Of course there's a lot that goes on on a mattress."

The salesman was actually blushing. He moved as though he was going to sit up, but Angie rolled over quickly and put a restraining hand on his chest. She knew the motion had flipped her skirt up so that her naked ass was exposed, but she ignored it.

"Wait," she said. "I need you. I mean, this is a big purchase, you know?"

His head was raised, his eyes trained on her round smooth ass cheeks, exposed right there in the middle of the florescent-lighted mattress store. He gulped a little and seemed about to speak, but when his eyes went back to her face, he was sidetracked again by the view down the top of her camisole.