The Voyeur Neighbor Who Undressed Me from Her Window

I moved into that apartment at the start of the new academic year, tired of sharing hallways and noise with strangers. My roommate, Elías, and I had found an old, spacious, cheap place, the kind that disguises its flaws with pretty floors and high ceilings. I got the large bedroom, with a built-in wardrobe, a wide bed, and a bathroom tucked inside as if someone had hidden it there years ago.

The bathroom was small, windowless, and had a dampness problem that the landlord solved with an explanation and a shrug. “After you shower, open the bedroom window and that’s it,” he told me. “Otherwise, the place fills with steam and smells awful.” I nodded without giving it much thought, like someone accepting one more household quirk.

My bedroom window looked onto another building, directly opposite, separated only by a two-lane street and a crosswalk. There were no curtains when we arrived, so during the day everything could be seen with obscene clarity. A woman lived alone in the apartment opposite, almost at the same height. I saw her several times during those first few days: brunette, slim, elegant even at home, with that way of moving belonging to someone who knows perfectly well what effect she has.

I was barely in my twenties back then; she had surely left behind the age when one pretends not to understand people’s looks. I always thought she was out of my league. She was the kind of woman you watched out of the corner of your eye and then forced yourself to look away from.

The accident happened one Tuesday morning.

I went into the bathroom half asleep, left my clothes outside without thinking, and raised the blind before getting into the shower, following the routine so I could air the room afterward. I didn’t realize my mistake until I turned off the tap and looked around: there was no shirt, no pants, nothing. Just a small hand towel, ridiculous and incapable of covering much.

I dried myself as best I could, cursing my stupidity. I thought I’d get out quickly, grab my clothes, and get back inside. One second, two at most. It was reasonable to assume no one would be looking at that exact moment.

Reasonableness lasted until I opened the door.

I saw her instantly. She was sitting on her bed, in profile, one leg bent and a bottle of nail polish in her hand. She looked up just as I came out of the bathroom with that miserable towel clutched against my crotch. I froze. And, as if my body had decided to complete my humiliation, the towel slipped from my hands and fell to the floor.

I stood naked in front of the window, rigid with surprise and half-aroused from the nerves. I made an awkward movement to bend down, but only managed to expose myself more. She didn’t look away. She neither smiled cruelly nor pretended modesty. She simply kept looking at me as if she had just found something she was genuinely interested in.

I felt my face burning. I picked up the towel, covered myself as best I could, and reached my clothes in absurd, almost sideways steps. Before ducking back into the bathroom, I looked at her one last time. She was biting her lower lip and still watching me, calmly, with an expression that left no doubt.

She knew exactly what she had seen. And she had liked it.

For weeks I avoided thinking too much about it, although it was impossible not to remember her gaze every time I raised the blind. I didn’t expose myself again, of course. I closed it, raised it, dressed, and undressed with the caution of a man who had learned a lesson through humiliation.

But one afternoon we happened to meet at the crosswalk.

I recognized her before she spoke to me. She was wearing large sunglasses, a simple dress, and a confidence that imposed itself more than any expensive clothing. I hesitated over pretending I hadn’t seen her, but it was pointless.

“Hello, neighbor,” she said, stopping beside me. “It was about time I found you outside your display window.”

The sentence left me rooted to the ground. I swallowed and barely managed a smile.

“Hi.”

“Don’t blush; I don’t bite. Well, not always,” she added with a half smile. “I’m Mara. I live right opposite your room. As you already know.”

“I recognize you, yes,” I murmured.

“And I recognize you too. It would be difficult to forget you.”

The light was still red, and I wished it would turn green or that the asphalt would swallow me. She moved a little closer, close enough that only I could hear her.

“Tonight, at two, raise the blind. No clothes. If you’re too embarrassed, start in your underwear. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I stared at her, convinced I had heard wrong.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do,” she replied. “If you didn’t want to, you would have already told me no. But you’ve been looking at my mouth instead of my eyes for ten seconds.”

The light changed. She began crossing and turned around halfway across the street.

“Two o’clock, neighbor. Don’t keep me waiting.”

I was useless for the rest of the day. I didn’t listen to anything in class, gave two ridiculous questions the wrong answers, and could barely eat. The idea was dirty, yes. It was also exciting in a way I couldn’t deny. My neighbor, a woman I didn’t know at all, had summoned me to undress for each other from a distance, as if she had been fantasizing about it for weeks.

And I fantasized for the rest of the afternoon too.

I imagined her body, her window, her hands, her eyes fixed on me. I imagined that she wanted to laugh at me, humiliate me, use me to get herself off. And far from backing away, that made me harder every time I thought about it.

At five to two I was still awake, lying on my back, listening to Elías’s heavy breathing from the other side of the hall. At two minutes to two I got up silently. I was wearing only tight black briefs, and my heart was beating so fast I could feel my pulse in my throat.

I turned off the main light and left only the bedside lamp on. Then I raised the blind.

Her window was dark for a second. Then a warm light came on and she appeared.

She had tied her hair back. She was wearing a thin buttoned blouse and a short skirt, as if she had just come home from dinner and decided to continue the night with me through the glass. She approached slowly, stopped in front of me, and smiled. Then she raised one hand and made a clear gesture: closer.

I obeyed. I crossed the room until I was a step from the glass.

Then she pointed at my briefs and shook her head.

I hesitated for a second. She arched an eyebrow, amused, and put a finger to her lips, asking for silence and surrender at the same time. I lowered my gaze, hooked my thumbs into the waistband, and pulled them off slowly. My cock was already half-hard, heavy, growing fully erect as I felt myself being watched.

Mara moistened her lips when she saw me naked. She sat on the edge of the bed without taking her eyes off my crotch and opened her legs slightly. Then she gestured with her hand for me to touch myself.

I placed my palm around my cock and began stroking it slowly, more out of obedience than initiative. The arousal was mixed with an electric embarrassment running along my spine. Knowing that she could see all of me, that she was watching me from her bedroom as if I were a toy placed in front of her window, made me completely hard within seconds.

She slid one hand along her thigh, over her skirt, and smiled when she saw my reaction. Then, very slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse. One button first. Then another. Then one more.

She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath.

Her breasts fell free, firm, round, perfect beneath the yellow light. I squeezed my cock harder without realizing it. She saw the gesture and opened her legs a little wider, inviting me to look. I began masturbating with a clearer rhythm, moving my hand up and down while feeling the head grow wet.

“That’s it,” I murmured without thinking, although I knew she couldn’t hear me.

Mara read my lips or simply understood my expression. She stood, turned around, and lowered her skirt to her ankles. She remained with her back to me, wearing a tight black thong over a round, taut ass that made me release a broken exhale. She turned her head, made sure I was still staring at her in fascination, and removed the last garment as well.

She stood completely naked in front of me.

The sight hit me full force. Her shaved pussy, her long thighs, the curve of her waist, the contrast of her skin against the light in her room. She was naked for me, and she knew it. There was no shyness, only hunger.

She sat back down on the bed and opened her legs wide. At first she touched herself on the outside, two fingers tracing her soaked lips. Then she brought those same fingers to her mouth, sucked them slowly, and looked at me with an expression that made me gasp.

I was already jerking off hard. My skin moved up and down, wet, and the tip throbbed with pure desire. Mara leaned forward, parted her lips with two fingers, and began rubbing her clit in small circles, faster and faster. Her mouth opened in silent moans, but I didn’t need to hear them to know how hot she was.

We stayed like that for several minutes, shamelessly displaying ourselves, feeding on the sight of each other. I couldn’t stop watching her open herself with her fingers, watching her get wetter, watching her put one inside and then two, pushing them deep. In turn, she kept her eyes fixed on my cock, on the movement of my hand, on its thickness, on the way my abdomen tightened every time I squeezed harder.

Suddenly she stood and disappeared from the frame for a moment. She returned with her phone in her hand. She held it up in front of the glass, then pointed it at me and smiled brazenly. I understood the message: she wanted to record me.

Instead of making me hesitate, it turned me on even more. I nodded. She began filming while I jerked off in front of the window like an obedient pervert. Then she made another gesture, much clearer this time: for me to come closer and turn my body slightly.

I did it. I positioned myself almost against the glass and spread my legs a little. Mara slowly swept the camera over me, from my chest down to my erect cock. Then she set the phone aside, knelt on the bed, and, without stopping looking at me, brought her face to her own hand to lick her wet fingers before putting them back inside her pussy.

That image destroyed my self-control.

I raised my free hand and pointed toward the door of her apartment. Then I pointed at myself and raised my eyebrows. Could I come over? She went still for a second, breathing quickly. Then she nodded.

I felt a hard blow in my chest. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants without underwear, opened the apartment door, and crossed the street almost at a run, looking both ways like a criminal. She was already waiting for me in the entryway with the door ajar.

When I went in, there was no need to speak.

Mara grabbed me by the shirt, pulled me into the elevator, and slammed me against the metal wall as soon as the doors closed. Her mouth fell onto mine hungrily. She kissed for real, without delicate games or hesitation. Tongue, teeth, lips pressing hard. I grabbed her waist and bit her neck, feeling her gasp.

“I’ve been thinking about your cock for weeks,” she rasped in my ear. “Ever since that morning when you were stupid enough to be naked.”

“And I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Then stop talking.”

She slid her hand inside my pants and gripped my hard cock with a firmness that drew a moan from me. She stroked it twice, slowly, and pressed her thumb against the wet head.

“Fuck,” I murmured.

“That’s it. I want to hear you like that.”

As soon as we reached her apartment, she led me by the hand to the bedroom, the same one from which we had been watching each other. Seeing it from inside, with my window opposite, sent another thrill through me. She knew it too, because she pushed me toward the glass and made me turn around.

“I want to see you the way I saw you that time,” she said. “Naked and exposed.”

She pulled off my shirt and yanked my pants down. Then she knelt in front of me. Her face was level with my cock, and for a moment she simply stared at it, as if enjoying having me there trembling, completely at her mercy. Then she stuck out her tongue and licked from the base to the tip in one long, wet, deliberate stroke.

I let out my breath all at once.

Mara gripped my hips and began sucking me without hurrying at first, savoring it. She circled the head with her lips, swallowed a little, and withdrew slowly, leaving a glistening strand of saliva. Then she repeated it, taking me deeper. I braced one hand against the glass and put the other in her hair, not pushing, just feeling her work me with her mouth and hand at the same time.

“Your cock tastes so good,” she said before swallowing me again. “I’d been imagining it for too long.”

Her throat took more than half of me and made me close my eyes. I could see her reflected in the glass, on her knees, sucking me in front of the same window from which she had gotten off watching me. The contrast between exhibition and intimacy had me on the edge.

“I’m not going to come yet,” I warned, panting.

She gave a short laugh.

“I haven’t allowed you to.”

She stood, kissed me with my own saliva in her mouth, and pushed me onto the bed. Then she straddled my face. Her pussy was truly wet, glistening and swollen with arousal. She didn’t wait for me to take the initiative. She lowered her hips and rubbed her lips across my mouth.

I understood immediately.

I grabbed her thighs and began eating her pussy eagerly. First with my flat tongue, running all over her; then with the tip, hard and insistent against her clit. Mara let out a moan, no longer concerned about the noise. She held on to the headboard and began moving over my face, using me. I licked her, sucked her, pushed my tongue inside as far as I could, feeling her open wider and soak my chin.

“That, fuck... that,” she said brokenly. “Don’t stop.”

I pushed two fingers inside her while continuing to suck her clit. They slid in easily, drenched. I moved them inside her, curling them, and her body tensed immediately. She began fucking herself on my hand and mouth at once, out of control, her thighs trembling beside my ears. When she came, she did it moaning loudly, squeezing my fingers inside her and shuddering over my face.

She climbed off me, breathing in jolts, but she wasn’t anywhere near finished.

“I want you inside me right now,” she said.

She got on all fours on the bed, facing the window. Her ass was raised, offering itself without restraint. The sight was so direct it nearly made me lose my head. I got behind her, gripped my cock, and ran it between her wet lips, up and down, getting myself even wetter.

“Put it in already,” she ordered, turning her face toward me.

I obeyed.

I entered in a slow but deep thrust, feeling her pussy swallow me until I was buried inside her. We both moaned at the same time. She was hot, tight, truly wet. I pulled almost all the way out and drove back in harder. Then again. And again.

The bed began banging against the wall with every thrust.

Mara pushed back to take me better, opening herself wider, asking for more without words. I grabbed her waist and began fucking her seriously, at a steady rhythm that soon became hard. My pelvis slammed against her ass, and the wet sound of penetration filled the room.

“Fuck, yes,” she moaned. “That’s how I wanted you to fuck me. Like that, neighbor, like that.”

Hearing her call me neighbor while she swallowed me whole turned me on even more. I slapped one of her butt cheeks, and she moaned again, louder. I slipped one hand between her legs and began rubbing her clit without stopping my thrusts. Her back arched immediately.

“Don’t stop... don’t stop... I’m going to come again.”

I couldn’t hold out much longer either, but I wanted to see her break apart in front of that window. I pulled out for a moment, turned her around, and sat her on the edge of the bed. She spread her legs at once. I penetrated her from the front again, and she lifted one leg to give me more room. From that position I could see my cock sliding in and out between her wet lips, completely covered in her juices.

“Look at how you’re going into me,” she said in a broken voice, looking down. “Look at what you’re doing to me.”

The image turned me into an animal. I held her behind the knees and fucked her harder, with short, fast thrusts aimed directly at the exact spot that made her moan with her mouth open. She grabbed me by the neck, kissed me halfway, and bit my lip.

“Come inside me,” she whispered. “I want to feel it.”

The words went through me. I kept fucking her while she touched her clit in front of me, her breathing shattered. She came first, trembling again and squeezing me so tightly she nearly made me finish right then. I held out for three more thrusts, four at most, and then I couldn’t anymore.

I came inside her with a rough moan, buried to the hilt, feeling my cum fill her pussy in thick pulses. Mara wrapped her arms around my neck and stayed that way with me inside her, breathing against my shoulder while our bodies continued to tremble.

We remained silent for a few seconds, hearing only the distant street and our breathing.

Then she smiled, gently pushed me backward, and looked through the window toward my room, the blind still raised.

“Now you have the best view in the building,” she said.

I laughed, still breathless. She ran a finger over my chest, down to my abdomen and then between my legs, where I was still sensitive.

“This isn’t going to be just one night, is it?” I asked.

Mara leaned closer, kissed me slowly this time, and answered against my mouth:

“No, neighbor. This was only the beginning.”