The Weirdo Neighbour

Sun shone brightly through the window, sending flickering shafts of soft yellow light across Carla's bedroom as clouds flitted across the sky on an early autumn evening in West London.

She was finishing off her thesis, reading it through for the fifth or sixth time, changing words, amending punctuation and generally polishing it prior to submission for her university degree.

She was unsure how her dissertation would be viewed, given the general opinion that most academics have of alien life forms visiting our planet, but she felt passionately about the subject and it fitted nicely with her chosen subject, she thought.

Besides, she was generally considered to be slightly weird because of her obsession with aliens, so this would just confirm her friends suspicions.

Saving the file and turning off her PC, Carla stood up and stretched, her back and legs aching from sitting in this tiny space for six hours. Looking at herself in the mirror she thought her complexion looked pallid. She needed some sun on her face.

Carla was half Spanish, half English, her parents recently splitting up, with her mum moving back to Spain. She had inherited her mothers dark complexion and hair as well as a voluptuous figure. Despite this, being brought up in London, she felt and thought like a Londoner, although her English friends all thought her very Spanish. She also loved visiting Madrid to enjoy the sun, the nightlife and to exercise her fluent Spanish when visiting friends and relatives. By contrast her Spanish friends thought her very English and she felt more English there than at home in London.

She had a good life she thought and was lucky in that respect, the only thing missing being a man in her life but, at twenty years of age, a husband could wait, despite her Spanish mother's concern. Her Spanish cousins also suffered family concerns over marriage so she had some support when in Madrid, and Spain had changed in recent years. No longer a strictly catholic country, many young women looked to their careers, desperate not to be just a housewife.

These thoughts were now going through her head, as she would leave for Madrid the next day, to spend a few relaxing nights with her Spanish family. It would give her a chance to escape the constant pressure of study and allow her to escape from recent strange events and dreams.

Since she first started research into extra terrestrial phenomena, a year ago now, she had experienced strange dreams. Initially these were disturbing and caused her to wake in the middle of the night in panic, but she slowly got used to these dreams as her research progressed and they were now pleasant, sometimes even erotic, and she welcomed them.

Things had started getting a little weird though in recent weeks, with her flat becoming unusually quiet during certain times of the day, times which were usually noisy such as when the streets rubbish was collected. Usually this is accompanied by noise from the machinery, the collectors shouts and the general noise of large refuse bins being wheeled and thrown around the street. For some strange reason, this period had become eerily quiet and she now only realised that her bin had been emptied after a particularly quiet spell on a Wednesday morning.

Now was a similar time, with the arrival of her neighbours back from work and their kids from school, she would expect more noise from cars and children playing in the street and back gardens, but for weeks, the evenings were eerily quiet. She had no explanation for this and it unnerved her, but her university work had diverted her attention to the point where it had taken over her life.

With the last rays of the sun now fading behind the victorian terraced houses across the street, she poured the remains of her wine into the glass and sat in a chair by the window, relaxing before bed. She looked at the empty bottle, suddenly realising that she had drunk two bottles that afternoon, whilst worrying over her thesis. No wonder she had found it difficult to concentrate and she now realised that she was decidedly tipsy.

The curtains twitched in the bedroom window across the street, the guy at number 42 being a regular viewer of her nocturnal activities. Emboldened by wine, she decided to give him a thrill tonight so, putting down her glass, she drew the curtains fully back, pushing her breasts against the glass and looking longingly across the street toward his window as she did.

Turning her back, she stripped off her blouse and undone her skirt, slipping it slowly down her legs, before seductively stepping out of it and turning back to the window, pouting and taking off her glasses, placing them slowly on the table before picking up the wine glass and taking a sip before licking her lips and sitting back in her window seat, posing demurely for her neighbour.

The curtains across the street were slowly pulled back and the guy stood looking directly back at her.

This was new. Their usual relationship was him watching furtively behind curtains, while Carla pretended not to notice him. She had secretly enjoyed their previous relationship, giving him an occasional glimpse of cleavage or thigh before disappearing from view, but she had now moved things to a different level and that gave her a thrill.

Due to her strict upbringing, she remained a virgin. Her mother had instilled in her the thought that having sex with a man before marriage would surely send her to the furthest depths of hell and, although she was not a church goer, this thought had prevented her going too far with any boyfriend. She did however experiment with sex, thinking that she might be redeemed if she didn't take that final step. This meant that she had become slightly obsessed with sex, but feared actual physical contact with a man. She was therefore known by her male friends as a prick teaser and had begun to develop a desire for exhibitionism, getting a massive thrill from showing her body off to men, from a safe distance.

Now dressed only in her stay at home, comfy pants and bra, she looked back at the man in number 42, her confidence dented a little as he openly looked at her.

They had never met and Carla would not have previously recognised him if she had bumped into him in the street, so she was pleasantly surprised to see a good looking guy of around thirty, blonde hair, slim and well dressed.

They eyed each other for a moment before the guy waved comically at her, almost robotically Carla thought.

Carla smiled and waved back, before he signalled her to continue.

At first she was dumbfounded and just stood there thinking but, emboldened by drink and desperately wishing to pee, she had a sudden naughty idea. She would take a shower and then open the bathroom window whilst she towelled off.

She looked at him, pointed in the direction of her bathroom window and left the room, walking through to her bathroom.

Dropping her pants, she sat on the loo before having a better idea, something that she had often fantasised about, but had never before had the courage.

Getting up she pulled up the blind and opened the windows. Her flat was a recent conversion and the bathroom window had two opening casements, to comply with fire regulations. This meant that there was a large opening, five feet wide, when both windows were open. Carla adjusted the stays so that she could see the windows opposite, but only he could see in.

Sure enough, the guy across the street was looking directly at her. He waved again.

She stood by the window and undid her front fastening bra, allowing it to fall away, her breasts bursting out suddenly. Stepping back a little, she enjoyed the feeling of being naked with fresh air blowing in from the quiet street, the guy across the street staring silently at her with a smile on his face. She was getting very turned on at this stage and allowed herself a little fondle of her pussy to accentuate the feeling and for the titillation of her audience.

She returned to the loo, which faced the window and was no more than six feet inside. Sitting down and leaning back with her legs closed she put her hand on her vulva, fingering herself before gradually opening her legs to show off her virgin asset. The guy now had a clear view of Carla sitting on the loo, her neatly trimmed black pubic hair framing her opening, which she then parted gently with her fingers, so that he had a clear view of her hole.

With eyes closed, she slowly ran a finger along the slit, circling her clitoris a few times . She was wet and felt very horny, so stopped touching herself to hold back an orgasm.

Holding her breasts up to lick the large stiff nipples, she started to pee.

The flow came slowly at first and dribbled into the loo but as she got more excited at her sluttish behaviour and, as the flow stimulated her vagina, the stream came more strongly. Struggling to stem the flow, pee gushed in spurts across the floor. Carla put her hand to her pussy to divert her pee but her clitoris responded to her touch by giving her a powerful orgasm, making pee squirt between her fingers across the room in jets, wetting the window sill and making her yelp in enjoyment and surprise, her legs shaking uncontrollably as she bent forward, moaning quietly as the orgasm faded.

As she recovered, realisation dawned that the guy across the street was still watching and, suddenly feeling excruciatingly embarrassed, she dashed to close the window, just catching a view of the guy with what looked like a phone in his hand as she threw the windows closed.

"Oh my God" she thought, "he filmed me!".

Opening the window a crack, she could see his fingers on the phone as he closed the curtains and moved away.

Her mind racing at what he might do with the clip she realised that she needed to speak to him and make him delete the file.

Taking a quick shower, she dressed and flew down the stairs before standing nervously at the door of number 42. Plucking up courage, she rang the doorbell, not knowing what to say to him.

"Hello, I'm the slut across the street that you just filmed taking a piss whilst masturbating."

She thought that might not be the best approach, but could not think what to say.

It was dark now, with light rain in the air. The suns warmth gone, she shivered as a breeze picked up and blew along the street, driving the rain into her light blouse.

She had dressed so quickly, she forgot her bra and she could feel her nipples stiffening in the sudden cold.

"Come on arsehole, answer the door" she quietly said to herself.

She rang again, then knocked on the stained glass door.

No answer.

Standing back, she looked up at the bedroom window, which had the curtains drawn and a strange yellow glow coming through. He was clearly still in, probably uploading her clip to some dodgy website she thought, so she pressed and held the bell. Hearing nothing, she realised that the bell didn't work. knocking on the door was also useless as the knock was so muffled that she doubted it would be heard.

Looking through the letterbox, she saw an empty hall with bare wooden stairs. There was no furniture, no coats hung on the wall hooks, no carpet on the stairs and a bare tiled floor.

"He's lived here for a year and still hasn't put carpet on the stairs. What a wanker!" With no reply or movement in the house, she put her hand to her face as the stupidity of what she had just done hung heavily on her.

The night sky suddenly took on a red glow as the wind picked up, so Carla decided she would try again in the morning and crossed the empty, silent street, before climbing the stairs and undressing for bed.

The next day dawned wet and grey, typical weather for late September in London, one day sunny, the next grey and cold.

She had to pack and catch a late afternoon flight, but uppermost in her mind was deleting that arsehole's recording of her, so the first thing she did was look out across the street.

He was there, staring across at her window, making Carla's heart sink. He really is a weirdo after all she thought, snatching the curtains closed.

"Even good looking blokes can be weirdos." She muttered to herself as she trudged to her bathroom, wondering what her latest dream meant.

In the shower, Carla found her thoughts retracing her dream. She remembered it vividly, almost as if it were real.

She had been walking through the street, heading home when the houses began to twist and turn, as if her vision was distorted. She was suddenly in a painting by Kourenkova, the title spinning in her mind; All Is Not What It Seems.

That title haunted her as the street turned and changed shape, her steps making no progress as she walked, before the houses slowly faded and morphed into strange metallic forms, like old aeroplanes or space ships that she had seen in films from the 1930's, shiny orbs and phallic shapes orbiting around her.

The next thing she remembered was being alone in a white room, at least she thought it was a room, but as she looked round she realised that she was suspended in a white fog, with no visible beginning or end to the space in any direction. She lay down but there was no bed, no floor or ceiling.

It was then that she realised that she was naked.

At this point, her alarm had gone off and she had been pulled back to reality, but the dream ran endlessly through her head as she showered, desperately trying to make sense of it.

She dressed, ordered a cab for the airport at four o'clock and set off to the weirdo at number 42.

The street was eerily silent again with not a soul to be seen. Her footsteps were silent too, the street feeling soft under her feet with every sound muffled, as if fresh snow had just fallen.

Carla strode angrily toward her neighbour ready for confrontation, but was stopped in her tracks when she saw that the door to number 42 was ajar.

Her mood abruptly changed from anger to fear as she realised that she may be in some danger. What if he was a rapist, or a murderer, she thought?

She gently pressed the door and it swung silently open.

With her heart pounding so hard she thought it would leap from her chest, she took one step into the hallway and stopped, listening for any sound.

Silence.

This was not just silence she thought, it was beyond that, it was like nothing she had ever experienced, to the point that she thought she may have lost her hearing, expecting at any minute for her ears to pop.

She called out.

"Hello, anybody home."

She called again, in doubt that anybody had heard her call, the silence seeming to stifle her every word. Nobody answered.

Silently she crept up the stairs.

Not knowing why she was headed upstairs, she slowed and looked down, before heading up again, an unseen hand guiding her.

Carla's skin crawled with fear and she wanted to scream and run, but something was driving her forward, her legs like jelly, but somehow managing to carry her upward.

On the landing, three doors were to her right and one behind her. She unconsciously knew that the door behind was the way to go, so she turned and walked slowly toward the part open door, past the three empty rooms, finally stopping at the threshold.

This would be the room from which her neighbour had spied on her she thought, so would be the most likely place for him to be, as she had seen no furniture or any other signs of habitation in any other part of the house.

She pushed at the door, which silently swung open.

The room was pure white, and the dream came flooding back to her as she walked into the light, all points of reference disappearing as she did so, until finally she was back in that dream.

There was no window, no walls or ceiling and, looking down, her feet seemed to be suspended above a cloud. With panic setting in, she turned to run, but everything was white around her. With no visual reference, there was nowhere to run to or from.

The urge to lay down was overwhelming, but where? Finally she relaxed and floated in space, just as in her dream. Her eyes closed, overwhelming tiredness making her want to sleep. All fear had now left her and she felt warm and safe here.

A face appeared above her. Her neighbour looked down on her, his smile fixed, just as it was when he stared at her the previous night. He spoke to her, but his mouth seemed not to move in synchronisation, the voice a little artificial as if he was talking through a poor skype link.

He knew her name, asked her if she felt happy and if she needed nourishment. These were strange things to say to somebody who had just walked into your house unannounced and now lay in mid air in your bedroom, but Carla answered him, saying she felt relaxed and was happy.

Hands appeared from nowhere and caressed her face gently, before tracing the outline of her body. It was only now that she realised that, as in her dream, she was naked and the hands were exploring her, almost as if they were those of somebody who were blind. They were not caressing her, they were exploring her, tracing every inch to confirm her form, stopping at places where she responded with pleasure or pain to check the response. She had the feeling that this was an alien life form encountering a human body for the first time and was recording how it worked.

That was precisely what was happening. Her neighbour had been sent to Earth as a scout, checking for suitable life forms with which to breed, their own planet having suffered from a plague which had made all of the female beings sterile.

Human bodies were found to be similar to their own, although theirs have the ability to shape shift, responding to the local environs. The one problem they had on our planet was the atmosphere, as on their own world they had evolved to cope with a sulphurous atmosphere and needed this to survive.

Their early planetary surveys showed low but sufficient levels of sulphur in the atmosphere of parts of earth, but these survey results were taken when coal was the primary fuel and had been distorted by the fact that the probes had landed in East Germany during the 1960's when a particularly dirty coal was being used for power stations and domestic heating. They therefore expected this to be the composition of the atmosphere throughout this world, enabling them to cope without artificial support.

In reality the scout had decided on a city with a large population, but at a time when pollution emissions were significantly lower than they expected. This meant that the scout could not move freely among the population, being confined to his base in number 42.

The other limitation to him living on this planet was sound. His species had a low pain threshold to sound, but they had the technology to overcome this using negative sound generation which effectively eliminated ambient noise, but only within a small area. It would be impossible for him to spend lengthy periods outside in a busy town.

Despite these limitations, he had managed to forge a relationship of sorts with a human female, watching her show the genitalia of her species to him, allowing him to scan and analyse the reproductive system sufficiently to determine that it was likely to be compatible with their own.

He decided that the human was an easy species to manipulate, having used a simple method to control this woman's actions and lead her to be analysed by him.

He now needed to put his theories into practice and copulate with this human. But first he needed to calculate the device required to impregnate her.

Carla lay still while the equipment completed their investigations and calculations. To her, it would feel like hands were exploring her body, every part, from the top of her head to her toenails, using the softest most sensitive touch. She felt like she were being gently massaged, but in reality, machinery was checking every fibre, every nerve and skin cell for reactions. The designers of this machinery had the DNA map of this life form, but needed extra data to check texture and to see how it reacted. They needed to know how it actually worked in order for them to interact and breed with it.