Look At Me

This was taking the invisible fourth floor to an entirely different level.

Yet part of her realized neither one of them cared. They were intent on sex, only on the sex. After a minute, he pulled her to her feet and whirled her around, completely in command as he bent her across the arm of his couch. Jackson reached his fingers down to her inner thigh, stroking her, then disappearing inside her. She moaned, throwing her head back. Then he had a condom package in his mouth and ripped it open, rolling the latex down his now-ready self. Then he entered her: strong, possessive, decisive.

I shouldn’t watch this. Yet she couldn’t turn away, either.

Chloe felt her whole body run hot. For a second, she imagined herself there, over that couch, him taking her from behind like an animal, him filling her up. She watched his abs tighten as he worked himself in and out, the woman’s face showing joy and want, as she took the whole thick length of him again and again. Chloe watched, transfixed, unable to turn away. She’d never had a man that big before. What would that feel like? The strange woman in his living room gripped the sofa cushions, her knuckles white as she seemed to cry out. Was she climaxing? Her whole body vibrated...and Chloe shivered. God, she felt a stab of jealousy. She wanted to climax just like that, feeling Jackson deep inside her.

Instantly, her body came alive, her belly feeling warm and tingling, her pajama shorts suddenly sticky between her legs. What am I doing? I’m a Peeping Tom. It’s wrong... And yet all she wanted to do was slip her hands down the waistband of her own shorts, to touch herself. She could feel a beat of a pulse between her legs, feel the want there, the need.

Wasn’t this illegal? Snooping in people’s windows?

I need to turn away. Close my blinds. But she kept watching, mesmerized and focusing on his magnificent body, his strong hands holding her hips, as he explored her deepest places. Her nipples stood at attention, her small, firm breasts bouncing with his every move. She rocked against him, too, grinding upward, arching her back, enjoying every inch of him.

Chloe bit her lip, feeling her nipples strain against her own shirt, and suddenly her body was overcome by want, like a fever. She wanted to be on the other side of that glass window. She wanted to feel the man’s hands on her. Those thoughts consumed her as she stood half-hidden by her curtain.

She was almost tempted to touch herself then, scratch the itch building deep within her. But no. That would be wrong. Wouldn’t it?

Chloe watched him, his eyes on the woman’s body, his face serious. Then, as if he could sense her watching, he glanced up, and for a heart-stopping second, he saw her.

She froze. Ice-cold fear ran down her spine. He saw her! She’d been caught spying!

Yet she couldn’t break his gaze, his blue-eyed stare. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was caught.

He’s going to be mad. He could even call the police...

Then, the smallest hint of a smile quirked his lip. He almost looked...amused. He kept eye contact with her and he thrust even deeper into his prize.

Her mouth dropped open. His gaze felt like a tractor beam, holding her in place. He gave her the littlest of nods. Go on, his eyes seemed to dare her, watch me. The woman before him had her eyes closed, obviously enjoying the feel of him inside her, but suddenly it didn’t even matter he was having sex with another woman. As Jackson watched Chloe, it felt like the two of them were the only people in the world. It felt strangely intimate, somehow. Chloe was watching the man at his most vulnerable, and Jackson was letting her.

Something about that was so wrong...so naughty...yet she couldn’t break his gaze, couldn’t turn from the window. How could he watch her when he was inside someone else? And yet, he seemed to...want her to watch.

Could that be?

And was it her imagination or was he turned on by it? Yes, she realized. He was. Excited by her. By her watching. She felt strangely powerful then. She wasn’t a third wheel; she was affecting what she saw.

He leaned over, nuzzling the woman’s neck and cupping her firm breast, tweaking the woman’s pink nipple, but his eyes never left hers all the while, as if somehow, he was offering to do this to her. Heat burned in her belly.

Yes. Just like that. Touch her.

Touch me.

Instinctively, Chloe’s hand covered her own breast as she felt her desire grow. The weight of her own hand against her chest felt like his then. She imagined what it would feel like for him to nuzzle her neck, even as he pushed ever deeper inside her.

Jackson straightened again, grabbing the woman’s hips, moving her slightly so she could see him from the side, see the very thick length of him move in...and out. God, he was huge, so hard for her. How did she even take that much?

Yes, Jackson. Just like that, she thought. That’s how I’d want it.

Fast.

Hard.

Deep.

He picked up his pace, as if he could hear her own thoughts. He was all animal, all want. Slickness ran between her legs as she gawked, unable—and unwilling—to look away. All the while, he stared up at her, sharp blue eyes never leaving her face.

She wanted to see him come, wanted to see him pour himself into this woman, because that was what she’d want. All of him. All that he could give her.

Then, after several furious thrusts, he came: his face overcome with the pleasure of pure relief. Jackson briefly closed his eyes as he’d found his release. She knew then she’d helped him. She’d excited him, pushed him over the edge. She felt the thudding pulse between her own legs and knew he’d had the same effect on her. Her body had come alive with need and want, as both flooded the blood in her veins, pumped by her fast-beating heart. What she’d give at that moment to be able to feel him inside her. God, she wanted him.

Then the woman before him opened her eyes, and the spell was broken. Suddenly, the intimate little bubble she’d occupied with Jackson was burst. Chloe ducked behind her curtains, fearful the woman would see. She pressed her back against the brick wall, heart pounding in her ears.

What had just happened?

It was wrong what had just happened. So very wrong. How would she feel if someone had watched her and her...boyfriend? Yet she’d never been that brazen. She would’ve never done it with the blinds up like that. She remembered the confident smirk of the woman as she’d stepped out of her jumper. Chloe doubted the woman would even care if she’d been seen. Hell, she was the one who had sex in front of the windows at night, with the blinds up.

She clicked off her foyer light, her own apartment now dark. She felt the cloak of darkness like a cover of protection. Could she ever even look at Jackson again? She frantically shut her own curtains.

No. It had been wrong. She shouldn’t have watched. Yet she liked it. She liked it even more when he’d caught her watching. When he’d shown her how much he’d enjoyed it. Those stark blue eyes watching her, excited by her watching... She’d never forget the look on his face when he’d come.

Heat built between her legs as she slipped her hand down the waistband of her shorts. She found herself so very wet, so very wanting. She touched her most delicate center and shivered, knowing this was what she’d badly wanted to do while she watched Jackson, and now she could hold back no longer. She thought about his hands, his eyes, how he’d feel inside her, filling her...and then, before she knew it, Chloe came in a heated rush, so fast, so hard, a quick explosion of need.

God, she’d never done that before: made herself come in just a matter of seconds. But she knew why this time had been different. It had been Jackson. All Jackson.

What would he do if he knew she’d...just done this? For him?

The thought danced in her mind. So wrong. Yet right.

She felt like she’d been there with him. And...her. Her heart settled a bit, her breathing slowed, and she wondered if her neighbor had gotten dressed. If he and that woman were cuddling, kissing now. The thought made her feel a flare of jealousy. Why? I’m not his girlfriend. I’m just the neighbor who flashed him...and watched him come. How she wished she could see that look of pure pleasure on his face again, but this time, with him deep, deep inside her.

She slumped down at her kitchen table and stared at her drawn curtains. Should she take another peek? Would she dare? No. She fought herself. I’ve invaded the man’s privacy enough. I’ve broken enough laws.

What if Jackson called the police?

She shook her head. No. She remembered the pleasure on his face as he glanced up and saw her. No. He liked it. He liked it when she watched.

But who was that woman? Girlfriend? Escort? She wasn’t sure which would be worse. She didn’t like the idea of him having a girlfriend, an intimate, loving relationship, but she also didn’t like the idea of him paying for sex, either. She heard a door slam in the alley and curiosity got the better of her. She jostled the curtain a centimeter and peered down. The woman he’d just had sex with slipped into an Uber waiting in the alley.

Definitely not a girlfriend, she thought. Then...what?

Chloe thought about the man in his big three-story building all by himself, sated now, maybe even still naked. Maybe rinsing off in the shower. For a split second, a crazy thought ran through her head...what if I went over? Rang his doorbell?

Instantly, she dismissed the thought. Really? She was going to...what? Tell him she was sorry for spying? Or ask him to do exactly what he’d just done to that woman to her?

Her inner thighs tingled at the thought. Heat rose in her abdomen again. She’d only just taken care of that. Hadn’t she? Yet, was she wanting this again? So soon? Just the thought of seeing Jackson made her wet.

No. He’d think she was crazy. Wouldn’t he?

After she watched the Uber drive away, she glanced back up at the new neighbor’s windows. She didn’t see him, and figured he’d moved to his room, though his blinds were still wide-open. Maybe he’d forget about the whole thing. Maybe he’d pretend it never happened. Maybe that was what she should do as well.

Then she saw him return with a bar of white soap in his hand and a small bowl of water. What was he...? She hid once more as he came to the windows. The idea of him seeing her spying more made her face flame with embarrassment. She waited for a few minutes, breathing hard.

Go to bed, Chloe, she told herself. What are you even doing?

She waited a few more moments that felt like hours. Should she look? Once more? What was he doing with that bar of soap?

Chloe peeked around the curtain, leaving just enough space for one eye. The living room was now empty. No sign of Jackson.

But he’d used the soap to write a message on his window. It was big enough for her to read.

Next time, want to do more than watch?

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