Through the Looking Glass

I gently pushed back that I was happy with the relationship as it was, and that would be the end of it. I worried that he might tire of our 'there, but not there' relationship. It seemed right to me to hold men at arm's length until I figured myself out. My behavior posed a chicken or egg dilemma. Did my behavior turn Darryl into a demanding bastard, or did his behavior turn me into a slave to his demands?

I did notice one thing that concerned me. When Darryl came around to my way of thinking, we actually dated. We didn't talk about me much; we talked about Darryl. We talked about his current job. He was weight training coach for the athletic department.

"I have to count all day long. These kids are too dumb to count for themselves," he would moan, "and if one gets so much as a sore muscle, the coaches are all over me about not teaching them proper lifting form."

He missed his friends. "It's not like the old days. They treat me like furniture around the athletic department. I get all the crappy chores, they pay me so little, and no one wants to talk to me."

And he missed his status. "Nobody seems to care that I played in the NFL. I've been to the big show. Why do they treat me like I'm some peon?"

He also worried about his current outbreak of acne, reveled at how his muscles had grown as he worked out with other weight lifters. His change was amazing. It seemed like in the course of a couple months he had transformed his body. He had grown so broad across his chest so quickly that he had stretch marks over his rib cage. I know now that it was steroids that did that. Back then I was clueless.

He rattled on about his problems, never about us, or me. Gradually, I decided that I did not like him. He was a self-centered spoiled child, and would spend the rest of his life that way. I began thinking of breaking it off with him. Our time together was becoming a chore.

The exact opposite was happening with Dave. I spent more and more time with him especially after I had spent time with Darryl. It's like I needed a fix of normal Dave world after a crazy dash through the bizarro world of Darryl.

Dave sensed that something was wrong and managed to talk me down from the edge. He never asked me any details and I didn't want to talk about it anyway. The less time spent on Darryl, the better.

Toward the end of October, I came home and slipped into my customary short shorts and t-shirt. It was too warm in the building for anything else. I pulled open the drapes to see if Dave was home, and discovered a twenty page story pasted to the window.

It was the story of a couple who fall in love despite being separated by a window in an office. Several times I had to stop reading to brush away a tear. He had written about us. Dave had incorporated huge chunks of me in the female protagonist, and Dave's personality rang clear as a bell through his description of the male protagonist.

You wrote about us? I texted.

Dave opened his drapes and grinned like an idiot then texted: It's going to be published in the campus literary magazine.

I texted a heart and a hug emogi and wrote: You described me much prettier than what I am.

He shook his head and pointed at me before texting: I spent no time on the sweetness of your disposition or how the world was brighter with you in it. Gritty realism sells.

I replied: I have several girlfriends who could use a guy like you. Let me fix you up.

He shook his head and typed: No money, no prospects.

I mugged a frown and typed: You're such a dope. You don't need money to make a girl feel wonderful. You have to be sensitive and gentle.

He texted back: I'm too busy right now, but I may take you up on that later.

I had no intention of turning him loose among my girlfriends. He was much too nice. I'm not stupid. When I find gold, I keep it to myself.

Things changed a week later. Darryl came over unannounced as usual and caught me in my after school outfit of short shorts and a t-shirt. Our visit started well enough, but went south quickly.

"I'm tired of waiting. I want to make love with you now." The anger in his growl scared me.

He grabbed the tails of my shirt and whipped it off me before I could protest, then he stripped off his clothes off.

"No!" I screamed.

When I pushed his hands away, he backhanded me across the face and drove me hard into the curtained window. I dragged down the mounting brackets along with the curtains as I slid to the floor.

As Darryl loomed over me with fists doubled, Dave rapped on the window and I looked up to see him outlined in bright light holding up his phone and pointing at it. He signaled that he was calling the police.

Darryl gave him the finger, then pulled on his pants, slid on his shirt and yelled, "Bitch!" as he stormed from the room slamming the door behind him.

A little blood seeped from the corner of my mouth. I daubed at it with my finger.

Are you all right? Dave texted.

I got up and grabbed my phone off the desk, looked up at Dave and texted: I'm okay. Sorry you had to see that.

Do I need to call the police? He wrote next.

I shook my head and dabbed at the blood on my lip before punching into my phone : Please don't. I'm not hurt, just embarrassed.

Dave typed: You can spend the night here if you need a place where he can't find you.

I walked over to the door and threw the dead bolt and texted: I'm okay, the door is sturdy and has a good lock.

I suddenly realized that I was wearing nothing but panties. I used my arm to cover my breasts, but gave up so I could text: I have a girlfriend I can call. In the meantime, I need to get dressed. Thank you for being there.

He texted back: Call me if you need me.

He understood my embarrassment, and pulled the drapes shut on his side to give me privacy. Later after the police report, I climbed into bed more concerned about Dave peeping in on me during the night than about Darryl returning.

The next evening after I got in I texted: Did you watch me in my sleep last night?

Dave replied: I did a couple of times to make sure you were okay.

He walked to the window and pulled the drapes open. Bright light poured in.

I texted: That creeps me out a little.

He shrugged. "I won't do it anymore. I worried about you last night. My intentions were pure.

I mugged an unhappy face. "Still you saw me almost naked last night. You have the advantage on me. I demand parity.

He laughed: You want to see me naked?

I nodded: Seems fair.

What about boyfriend? Dave pulled an unhappy face.

Darryl's gone. I filled out a complaint with the campus police this morning. If he approaches me, I will have him arrested.

He shrugged and unbuttoned his shirt and dropped his pants. He struck a modeling pose with one hand behind his head and the other on his hip then did a slow turn displaying his body in all its glory. His skin was that white, white pale where it almost glowed, and he could have used a session or two in the gym, but otherwise not bad. What impressed me was the size of the lump in the front of his shorts. The only man I had ever seen was Darryl, Dave had to have something quite a bit bigger.

I messaged: Very nice, but you've seen my breasts, and I haven't seen any of your naughty bits.

He shot back: Let's play doctor. I'll show you mine when you show me yours.

I laughed. Was this how things were supposed to be between the sexes? Was sex supposed to be fun? Dave's playful attitude made him really attractive to me.

I texted: We have another problem. I can no longer close my drapes until they are repaired.

Dave stroked his chin then held up his index finger as if he suddenly had an idea: I'll keep mine closed unless you say to open them.

I typed back: That doesn't keep you from peeping.

He replied: Paper over the window?

Papering over the window would solve the problem, but I didn't like the idea of never seeing Dave again. I didn't want a boyfriend, but I did want Dave. I know that makes no sense. My emotions at the time were complicated and in some ways conflicted.

I shook my head and typed: Here's the problem. I enjoy living with you sort of.

He read that, and bit his lower lip in thought. For a moment, I thought that I had gone too far. He would decide that this was getting too weird, close the drapes, and I would never see him again. Dread surged through me as he typed:

I enjoy having you sort of around too.

Relief flooded through me. More dread followed as I realized that I had to take another big step. I wasn't in a place where I trusted men, but I wanted to share more of my life with Dave, and the clear barrier between us gave me a level of comfort. It was time to pull on my big girl panties and make a decision. I typed without stopping: You could keep your drapes open all the time.

He looked up at me like he was thinking of a question he needed to ask me.

I braced myself. I had taken a big chance here and was beginning to think it was going to blow up in my face.

He wrote: I wouldn't mind, but I do sleep in the nude. There may be a some semi-unintentional flashing.

I smirked at him: I sleep in the nude too. I don't mind the flashing as long as it's semi-unintentional.

Afterwe stopped texting, Dave stayed in his underwear, and I changed into panties and an over sized t-shirt minus the bra. As I studied, Dave would glance over at me from time to time. I liked it, well sort of. I appreciated the attention, don't get me wrong, but there was a little more of me than I wanted. I vowed that it was time to work on my figure.

Autumn cooled into winter, but our rooms remained tropical. Occasionally a maintenance worked would knock on my door and ask about how warm it was, but it never changed. One evening as I sat there studying least squares calculations in n-dimensions, a trickle of sweat rolled between my breasts. I peered over at Dave sitting in his underwear looking far cooler than me. Without thinking, I removed my t-shirt. If I had thought about it, I wouldn't have done it.

I wadded up the shirt and threw it at the window. Dave looked up to see me sitting there in all my topless glory. His response was to mouth, 'looking good', and to go back to writing on his laptop. I'm not overly endowed. I barely pass the pencil test, but Dave appreciated the view. When I caught him looking he would grin his pleasure at the sight of me. A girl could get used to that. Most evenings after that I padded around my room in my panties.

At a lunch with Megan I detailed my strange relationship with Dave. She was not happy.

"You have a voyeur. Don't you see you're falling into the same relationship with him as you had with Darryl. Before you know it, he'll be demanding that you pose for pictures. God only knows how long before those pictures appear on the internet."

"He hasn't once asked anything of me, nor has the idea of taking pictures come up. Every once in a while, he hints that he would like to date me, but I tell him I'm not ready after what Darryl almost did to me."

"I still don't like it, Lisa. As an almost psychologist, I have to tell you that I think you're skating on thin ice. I really don't see your situation ending any other way but in tears."

"Can't you please be happy for me?" I set down my fork. "I'm in a relationship with a nice guy. It's a little unconventional, but it's that way because I want it that way. Dave is nothing like Darryl. I worry that one day he'll decide that I'm too crazy to deal with, and move on to a woman who can appreciate him."

Megan rubbed her forehead. "At least, let me check him out. I have a friend who has a friend on the campus police force."

"Megan, if you do that, I swear to God, I will never speak to you again. He's a good guy who has been nothing but kind to me. I will not have you treating him like a criminal." I sipped my iced tea.

"If you want to worry about something, worry about Darryl." I continued, "I'm running into him a little more often than is natural. The other day I discovered him walking about ten yards behind me. I creeped me out. I had no idea how long he had been back there. Fortunately it was in the middle of the day so I didn't get panicky."

"It's time to call the police. That sort of thing will only escalate." She pulled out her phone.

"Don't call. He's just started his job with the university. I don't want to be the one that gets him fired. Then I might have an angry stalker on my hands."

"He's a creepy guy and a stalker. He needs to get fired," Megan shot back.

In the end we agreed to disagree.

A little after Halloween, Dave slid an autographed copy of his published short story under my door. When I opened it, he had written above the title:

Lisa, you are the loveliest muse a writer could have. All over campus, men and women are reading this story and wondering why they can't have a romance like ours. Thank you for your sweet inspiration. Dave

I teared up as I read it. How could a woman not? I had never in my life had a man act so tender and loving toward me. I almost wished that he had hand delivered it so that I could wrap my arms around him. Unfortunately, Dave continued to play by the ground rules I had set. I glanced over to the window to see if he was home yet. His side was dark. I wanted to do something for him, but what?

Later that evening, I rapped on the window and waved my autographed copy of the story he had written. Then I pointed at the very brief thong I was wearing. He signaled that I should turn around and I did. I may have shaken my ass at him a little bit. I texted: I've never had a story about me published. I am deeply flattered. Do you like my thong? I bought it for you.

He mimed wiping drool from his mouth before texting his approval.

After that, I wore thongs most evenings feeling sexy whenever Dave looked my way. Just before Thanksgiving holiday, I strutted around in the briefest thong I could find on the internet. The front was a triangle of flimsy fabric perhaps three inches long and about two inches wide across the top. From the back I looked naked except for the thin bands of elastic that kept me almost modest.

I typed: A little something to remember me by over the break.

Four days was too long to be without Dave. At one point, my mother pulled me aside and asked if I had fallen in love. I was showing all the signs. I told her I thought I was at the start of relationship, but it was too early to tell.

"Honey, you look in love to me." She gave me a smile. "Make sure he's the one before you do anything."

When I returned to my room with the window on Dave, I stripped down to my thong inside the door. I could not wait to get out of my clothing. Dave's face lit up in the biggest smile when he saw me.

I've missed you. He typed.

I couldn't wait to get back. I typed in return.

He held his hand up to the window, and I placed my hand up to his. We stood there for a long time.

I could only think how nuts this was. I wanted him. I craved his touch to the very bottom of my soul. Yet when I thought of marching over there and beating on his door until he opened it, something froze inside me. Once he had me, how could I be sure that he wouldn't turn into another Darryl?

And so I did nothing. Every day I craved for his touch so much that it hurt yet the thought of acting on that desire petrified me.

They fixed my curtains the week before Christmas break.

When the workmen left, Dave texted: You can close your drapes now, want to go back to the old way?

He stood there looking concerned and nervous. I was happy the way things were.

I shook my head and texted: This way is better. I like your companionship.

He offered yet again: We could always meet face to face.

There it was again. Dave was asking for a normal 'man meets woman' relationship and I wasn't ready. It was too scary.

I texted: I know it's weird on my part, but I like the fact that there's a physical barrier between us. I'm having trust issues with men in general since my bastard boyfriend refuses to go away. This is nice. I have your presence, but I'm safe. Does that make sense?

He texted back: I would never harm you Lisa, I'm not wired that way.

I held my hand against the window. He held his up against mine. Then I stepped back and texted: I know I'm being weird, give me a little space and let me get my head straight. I see Darryl two or three times a week. Every time I do, it brings back the old scary feelings. I think he is stalking me.

He texted: Have you talked to the police?

I nodded and wrote: They can't do much as long as he doesn't touch me or confront me.

He changed the subject to my relief by stroking his chin and eyeing me up and down, then texted: You're looking especially tasty lately. Have you lost weight?

I spun in place ballerina style before texting: Down about ten pounds. You're the first one to notice. I think I lost it all in my chest.

I hid my breasts in my hands and frowned.

He texted: It came off your hips and thighs. Your butt doesn't jiggle when you walk anymore. Don't lose too much, I adore a woman with hips. They're so feminine. I can't wait to caress them and maybe cover your perky buns with tiny little bites.

I wiggled my hips and watched his bright smile spread across his face. I gave him a thumbs up then texted: You'll go far in journalism. You know exactly what to say.

I motioned in a circle with my index finger to get him to turn around. I liked what I saw. He had lost his paunch, and gained a little muscle definition.

I texted: You're looking spiffy yourself.

Dave texted: It's your fault. I looked so bad for you in my underwear that I decided to take up running again and joined a judo club.

He flexed for me.

I gave the thumbs up before texting: We're obviously good for each other.

Christmas came and I spent several weeks alone in the company of my family. Dave occupied my thoughts most of the day every day. Nights were long and lonely. Until then I hadn't realized how warm and safe I felt knowing Dave was sleeping a few feet away. Without him around, life was as flat and as tasteless as chewing on a rubber band.

I returned to school the Sunday after New Year's and my mood brightened.

Enjoy your holiday? I texted.

It was okay, he texted back. I wrote and graded finals for my professor. It was nice to sit and drink a coffee without worrying about all the things I needed to do. How about you?

It was nice to see my family, but Darryl dropped by and I told my Dad what happened. Dad threw him out of the house and told him that he would be shot on sight if he came back.

He watched me peel off my coat, blouse, skirt, bra, shoes and leggings. Then I reached up and rustled my fingers through my hair before picking up my phone: It feels so good to strip down and relax.

Dave followed my lead and slid his clothes off then texted: Is that thong for my viewing pleasure?

I did a pirouette texted: I've been thinking about getting back here all break. I'm happier here than at home. It's time we went further.

I slid out of my thong and stood before him naked wondering briefly what Megan would think then decided that I really didn't care.

Wow, he mouthed as he dropped his shorts and stood before me.

I pulled up a chair and sat facing him. He did the same.

I thought about you all Christmas, I texted. I had dreams about you stroking my naked body. How can you occupy my thoughts so much and I don't even know the sound of your voice?

Dave went mad on his keypad: I have the same problem. You monopolize my waking thoughts. I've memorized the gentle curve of your jaw. I know how you bite your lower lip when you're deep in thought. I love the way you tuck your hair behind your ear when it falls forward across your face.

After I read it. I placed both hands over my heart and sent a kiss his way. What do we do now?