What My Neighbor Saw from His Balcony

My name is Daniela, and I still remember that first summer in the new house as the exact moment I understood something about myself that I had spent years denying. I had moved to the outskirts of the city for work, far from my family, and for the first time I had a yard all to myself. I was twenty-eight, had a strict exercise routine, and a pretty clear idea of what I liked, even if it was hard for me to admit out loud: I got turned on by being watched, by knowing that some stranger was jerking off thinking about me.

The house was small but comfortable, with a tiny pool in the back and a yard surrounded by a low fence. It had been unbearably hot since December, so I quickly learned to live in very little clothing. I didn’t have air conditioning, and the fan barely moved the hot air around. The pool and the sun became my only refuge in the afternoons.

My neighbor was named Esteban. He was around fifty, married, and had grown children who almost never came around the house. At first our relationship was limited to a good-morning greeting when I left for work and he watered the front plants. Polite, quiet, always in a work shirt, with big hands that clearly knew hard labor. Every time I saw those hands, I found myself thinking about how they would feel squeezing my tits.

I didn’t think much of it until one afternoon in January.

I had come home from work exhausted, made myself something light, and brought the plate out to the pool. I ate a little, got in the water, got out, and ate some more. When I lay down to sunbathe in my tiniest bikini, I happened to look up and saw him. Esteban was on the balcony of his house, looking toward my yard. I had no idea how long he’d been there.

I looked away immediately, gathered my things, and went inside with my heart pounding in my chest.

Was he watching me? How long had he been doing it? Was he getting hard seeing me?

I should have felt uncomfortable. Instead, that night I couldn’t sleep thinking about his gaze. About a year earlier, I had discovered how much it turned me on to be watched, to be desired by someone without them ever touching me. I ended up slipping two fingers into my cunt in the darkness of my room, thinking about Esteban standing on his balcony with a hard cock pointed toward my yard. I came biting down on my pillow, legs spread wide, imagining his face as he jerked off watching me. And now I had, right on the other side of the fence, someone willing to watch.

The next day I decided I wasn’t going to hide.

***

I came home from work and, instead of my usual bikini, chose a thin string thong. I stretched out in the sun on my back, knowing Esteban’s window looked directly into my yard. I put on dark glasses, the kind that let you see without anyone noticing where you’re looking, and waited.

It didn’t take long for him to appear. First a shadow behind the glass, then his silhouette leaning against the frame. He was about ten meters away, far enough not to be obvious, close enough for me to feel every minute of his attention on my skin.

Heart racing, I did something I had never dared do before: I unclasped the top and let it fall onto the lounge chair. The sun hit my tits directly, and the sensation of being exposed, of knowing he couldn’t look away from my hard nipples, lit me up in a way I hadn’t expected. I could feel my cunt soaking my thong against the lounger.

I stayed like that for half an hour, pretending to read, pretending to doze, feeling his gaze like a touch. I opened my legs just a little, enough for the tiny strip of thong to dig into my lips and for him to see the shape of my cunt marked by the string. When I finally went inside, I had barely closed the door before I pressed myself against the wall, shoved my hand into my thong, and touched myself thinking about him. I was drenched. Two fingers inside, thumb on my clit, forehead against the wall, biting my lip so I wouldn’t scream. I imagined his cock on the other side of the glass, thick, his hand moving fast, and I came standing up, thighs trembling and fingers dripping.

It became a habit. Every afternoon, after the pool, my little ritual in the sun. And every afternoon, his silhouette appeared on time in the window. Every afternoon, I ended up in the bathroom with two fingers inside me, coming thinking about him.

***

One afternoon I fell asleep face down, wearing nothing but my thong. His voice woke me from the fence.

—Neighbor! Sorry to bother you.

I jolted upright, covering my chest with my arm.

—Hi, Esteban. Is something wrong?

—My grandson’s ball fell into your yard. Could you toss it back? And sorry for waking you.

—No, no, don’t worry. I’ll give it to you.

I wrapped my torso in a towel, walked over to the ball, and handed it back over the fence. Esteban never took his eyes off me for a second. His gaze traveled over my back, my legs, stopping where the towel didn’t quite cover my ass. I noticed the bulge in his work pants, thick, pressed tight against the fabric. My mouth went dry.

—Thank you very much —he said, clearing his throat—. Again, sorry to bother you.

—It’s no bother, neighbor. I was going in anyway.

That night I knew the game of glances wasn’t enough anymore. I wanted more. I wanted to see his reaction up close, to watch that calm, quiet-man composure crack, I wanted to pull that cock out of his pants and see how big it really was.

***

The following Sunday I didn’t have to work. I got up early anyway, as always, and from my bedroom window I saw Esteban watering the front. A few minutes later he moved into my yard to water my plants; days earlier he had offered, and I had accepted happily.

The window in my room looked right out onto where he stood with the hose. Without letting him see me, I drew the curtain aside and started my workout routine in a tiny top and shorts that fit me like a second skin. I put on music, pretending I couldn’t hear anything, pretending I didn’t know he was a meter from the glass.

I could feel the spray of the hose getting closer and closer to the window. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye: there he was, motionless, watering the same plant for five minutes. His free hand was shoved down inside his pants. He was stroking his cock while watching me.

The heat from exercising and knowing he was jerking off because of me turned me on completely. I took off the shorts and kept moving in just my thong, with my back to him, giving him the view I knew he was waiting for. I bent all the way down to the floor with my legs straight, slow motion, so he’d get my ass right in his face. The thong dug between my cheeks, and I knew he could see even the little wrinkle. I barely touched myself, a brush over the fabric, and felt that the thong was wet.

Then I took off the top too, though from behind he couldn’t see me; I did it for myself, for the feeling of being nearly naked while someone devoured me with his eyes from a foot away from the glass. I turned for a second, just enough for him to see my tits in profile, with my hard nipples pointed at the window.

A few minutes later he knocked on the patio door. I put on a long shirt that barely covered me and went out to answer.

—Hi, neighbor. The hose doesn’t reach the back of your yard. Would you mind if I connect it inside?

—Not at all, Esteban. I’ll hook it up for you. And whenever you need to, come in without knocking, make yourself at home.

But it wasn’t enough for me that he saw me from behind. I wanted his reaction from the front. So, as soon as he came back in to get the hose a little later, I came up with an idea.

I took off my shirt, kept on the thinnest thong I had, and disconnected the hose to force him to come back in. Then I hurried to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, waiting.

When Esteban came in, he found me there with my tits out. I acted surprised, put the glass down, and covered myself with my hands, but I gave him plenty of time to look at me. My nipples slipped out between my fingers, hard, giving me away.

—Sorry —he stammered, not knowing where to look—. The hose disconnected, I came to hook it back up.

—Oh, you startled me, I wasn’t expecting you —I said, not very convincingly—. I was exercising, that’s why I’m like this. I’m more comfortable. Go ahead and hook it up, I’ll keep doing my thing.

Esteban swallowed. I could see how hard it was for him to put a sentence together. I looked straight at his crotch without hiding it: his cock was outlined against his pants, thick, pointing upward.

—No, I’m leaving now, I have to take my wife to her sister’s place.

—All right. Say, do you know anyone who knows about electricity? I’ve got a light that won’t work even if I change the bulb.

—I know a little. What do you need?

I pointed to the ceiling fixture, and while we talked I let my hands slide just enough to show him my tits again in full. He never took his eyes off me.

—If you want, I can check it. But it’d have to be at noon, when I get back from dropping off my wife.

—I’d really appreciate it. I’ll expect you at noon, then.

He said goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and his hand resting for a moment on my waist. I led him to the door moving slowly, knowing he was behind me, hypnotized, with a hard cock.

***

Noon never seemed to arrive. I had spent days wanting that man, and at last I had the perfect excuse. I took a calm shower and, when I heard his car pull up, I wrapped myself in a towel with nothing underneath and sat on the sofa waiting.

He knocked. I went out to meet him with the towel covering me right to the limit, not a centimeter more.

—Hi, Esteban. I just got out of the shower, I didn’t have time to change.

—No problem, take your time while I handle this.

I went to my room and positioned myself in exactly the angle from which he could see me. I let the towel drop, staying naked for a few seconds in front of the mirror, so he could see my tits, my shaved cunt, my ass. I ran my hands over my breasts calmly, as if I were alone, and put on a loose long shirt with a deep neckline and nothing underneath.

While Esteban worked on the ladder, I wandered around the kitchen inventing chores. I bent over so the neckline would open and he’d get my tits hanging in plain view; I stretched so the shirt would reveal half of my naked ass. He watched me more than the ceiling, and from below I could see the bulge of his cock again pressing against his pants.

When he came down from the ladder, he told me it was fixed.

—Thank you so much, Esteban. How much do I owe you?

—Nothing, neighbor. It’s a favor between neighbors.

—Then I’m at least going to offer you a drink.

He left the tools and sat down to have a beer with me. The conversation flowed easily, but the air was thick with everything we weren’t saying. When he finished his glass, I stood up.

—Since you won’t charge me, I’m going to give you a gift. As a good neighbor.

I yanked my shirt off and stood naked in front of him. Esteban froze, not daring to move, his eyes locked on my tits and my cunt. I walked over slowly, spread his legs, and stood between them. I took his hand, brought it to one of my tits, and leaned in to kiss him on the mouth.

His fingers woke up instantly, kneading my tits with that strength of big hands I had been imagining for weeks. He pinched my nipples, tugged at them, and lowered his mouth to suck on them hungrily. I slipped my hand between my legs to touch myself in front of him while he sucked my tits. Then I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock.

My mouth watered. It was thick, heavy, with veins standing out, and a drop gleamed at the tip. I knelt between his legs and took it all into my mouth in one go.

—Holy shit, neighbor... —he gasped, grabbing my hair.

I sucked it eagerly, spitting on it, running my tongue over his balls, looking up from below so he could see every move. I took it out and rubbed it over my face, over my tits, while I kept stroking it with my hand.

—Look what you do to me —I told him, grabbing one breast and rubbing my nipple against the tip of his cock—. So wet thinking about this cock.

—Let’s go to the sofa —he murmured, his voice rough.

I lay back and spread my legs wide for him. Esteban settled between them and buried his face in my cunt with a patience I hadn’t expected from such a quiet man. He ate me slowly, licking me from top to bottom, sucking my clit, pushing his tongue inside me. He did it well, too well. I clung to the sofa upholstery while he wrung pleasure out of me that arched my back.

—Like that, like that, don’t stop —I panted, pressing his head against my cunt—. Suck it all, Esteban, don’t stop.

His fingers joined his mouth. He slid two in, then three, moving them inside while his tongue never left my clit. I lost all sense of time, screaming, grabbing my tits, pinching my nipples. When I reached my first orgasm, my whole body shook, and he didn’t stop, kept licking me while I came all over his face.

Still trembling, I sat up, made him lie back, and returned the favor with the same devotion. I settled between his legs, took his cock in both hands, and put it back into my mouth. I sucked him deep, to the throat, until I choked. I licked each ball one by one, took them into my mouth, while I stroked his cock slick with my saliva. His hands tangled in my hair, guiding me without hurry.

—That’s it, slut, that’s it —he murmured—. The way you suck it.

—Fuck me already —I begged, pulling it out of my mouth—. I can’t take it anymore, fuck me.

I climbed on top with my legs spread and drove it into myself in one hard thrust. A long moan escaped me when I felt him enter all the way. I started riding him, up and down, pressing my tits into his face so he’d suck them. He grabbed my ass and pushed me down, driving it in deeper.

—Turn around —he asked quietly after a while—. Get on all fours.

I got on all fours on the sofa, ass raised high toward him, and he positioned himself behind me. He slid into me slowly, gripping my waist, then set a rhythm that had me moaning without shame. Every thrust made my tits bounce and my drenched cunt slap wetly. My screams were probably audible all the way to the sidewalk, and I didn’t care at all.

—Fuck me hard, come on, harder —I shouted, looking back over my shoulder—. Ruin my cunt.

He grabbed my hair, pulled my head back, and started hammering into me all the way to the root, slapping my ass with his pelvis. He dug his fingers into my hips. I could feel every centimeter of that thick cock opening me, and I came again, clenching around it, biting my arm to keep from screaming too loudly.

I felt his wet thumb searching for my ass hole. He pressed it there, just a little, and I understood what he wanted.

—Easy with that —I warned him when I felt him wanting to go further—. It’s my first time like this.

Esteban understood. He pulled his cock out of my cunt, spat on his hand, and rubbed it over my ass, wetting me well. Then he set the tip against it and pushed slowly. I held my breath as I felt myself opening centimeter by centimeter. He was patient, attentive, preparing me carefully until the pain turned into a new sensation that made me come in a way unlike anything before. Once he was all the way in, he started moving slowly, then harder, and I slipped my hand between my legs to touch myself while he fucked my ass.

—I’m going to come —he gasped a few minutes later.

—Inside, no, not inside—on my face —I begged, turning around and kneeling in front of him.

He pulled his cock out of my ass and jerked himself twice over my face. His load hit me in streams, into my open mouth, on my cheeks, on my tits. I licked my lips and sucked the tip to get every last drop. When it was over, the two of us collapsed on the sofa, breathless and speechless.

I walked him out to the patio without bothering to get dressed, semen still on my tits. Before crossing the fence, he turned back.

—Do we do this again?

—Whenever you want, neighbor.

We kissed once more. Then I turned around and walked inside unhurriedly, feeling his gaze pinned to my back, just like that first afternoon by the pool. Only this time I knew exactly what that gaze could make me feel.

We repeated it several more times that summer. But none of them was like the first, when everything was still a game of half-drawn curtains and glances pretending not to glance.