CASSY’S CHRONICLES: Outside My Bedroom Window
It started like any normal Friday night. I had just gotten back from work, exhausted. I yanked off my wig, peeled off my clothes, showered, and slipped into a loose tank top and shorts.
My neighbour, Jide, lived next door. Our buildings face each other. You can clearly see into the apartment across, especially when the curtains are open. You don’t even have to try hard. Jide and I had spoken a few times, casual hellos, mostly. He had this deep voice that made your stomach flutter. I’d noticed the girls that came and went, but I never paid attention until that night.
It started with a soft moan. At first, I thought it was a sound from my TV. But when I muted it, I realised it was coming from his window. The curtains were slightly open, just enough for me to see inside.
She was on all fours, and he was behind her, slow and deep, one hand gripping her waist, the other on her back. His mouth moved to her neck, her moans rising with each stroke. I felt my body react immediately. Heat rushed between my thighs.
I should have closed my window. Turned away. But my hand slipped into my shorts instead.
I couldn’t help it.
I touched myself slowly, watching them move. Her back arched. His grip tightened. His face twisted in pleasure. My heart was racing, my breath uneven. It felt like I was in the room with them.
I imagined it was me in front of him.
The pressure built fast. I could barely hold back. As he groaned out his release, I came too, shaking, breathless, lips parted in a silent moan. The pleasure rushed over me like a wave. I sank to the floor, hand still trembling.
I lay there for a few minutes, dazed, staring at the ceiling.
But something changed in me that night.
I had tasted him with my eyes, and now I wanted the real thing.
The next evening, I wore my short red dress, the one that clings to my body in all the right places. I stepped out just as he was locking his door.
“Hi,” I said, voice calm but confident.
He looked at me, lips curving into a small smile. “Hey.”
I walked closer. Bold. My heart was pounding, but I didn’t stop.
“I saw you last night,” I said.
He raised a brow. “You were watching?”
“I did more than watch.”
He stared at me for a second, then laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re bold.”
“I want you,” I said.
Silence. Then he unlocked his door and stepped aside.
“Come in.” I did.
Inside, the tension between us snapped like a wire. He pulled me to him, lips crashing into mine. It was rough, fast, and needy. Our bodies couldn’t get close enough. My dress was off in seconds. He kissed my neck, my chest, then lowered me to the couch.
His mouth found every inch of me. His tongue worked magic, and by the time he entered me, I was already shaking. He moved with purpose, deep and slow, then faster, until we both shattered together.
Breathless. Spent.
Afterwards, he lay beside me, running his fingers along my thigh.
“So,” he said, smirking, “are you still going to be watching through the window?”
I smiled. “Why watch when I can have the main show?”
He laughed, pulled me closer.
And I knew this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.