Catching [M]y neighbor Claire [F]ingering herself [M20/F20] (Part 1)

Hey folks, there’s going to be a lot of exposition for this story, and the raunchy stuff is at the end (starting at *****). Just a fair warning

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I moved back near my college in late August. I’d had a horrible summer. My internship had been cancelled in April due to covid, leaving me almost no time to find another one. So instead, I’d spent the whole summer living with my parents, feeling quite trapped.

By August, I would rather have lived alone seeing no one in person than spend another day stuck in my parents house. I managed to convince them that an apartment near campus would be worth it by signing up for a chem course (a subject which I normally avoid almost as much as the plague) with an in-person lab component. Technically there were options to do this remotely, but I was not about to tell my parents that

The apartment building is old. Plugs barely hold in the wall outlets without tape, and much of the paint is chipped and peeling. A window a/c unit in the kitchen hums like a jet engine, but I could barely feel the difference from the outside. But after living at home since March, it felt like a palace.

The balcony of my third-story apartment faces the balconies of another building, and the buildings are so close together that you can’t see the lower floors of the opposite building unless you lean over the rail. The wind channels between the buildings, and so the balcony was the best refuge from the late summer heat that I had.

A couple days after I moved in, I was pushing my couch out to the balcony. Even this minimal amount of labor drenched my face and back in sweat, and once I got the couch in place, I rushed to pull my shirt up and dab the droplet rolling toward my eye.

“Good morning!” I heard a chipper feminine voice from the opposite building.

“Uh, hi.” I stuttered back, pulling my shirt back on (with some difficulty) I looked across the gap to see a girl about my age sitting at her table with a book.

“I’m Claire.” She said.

“Joel. Nice to meet you Claire.”

Our conversation continued, and I found out that she was a premedical student, but majoring in history.

As the semester progressed, we both continued to sit on the balcony to do our homework and reading, and we would frequently chat. The conversation always flowed well, and she was quite easy to talk to. We would discuss our families, music, politics, memes, just whatever happened to be on our minds.

Sometimes, the conversation would shift to sex and relationships. She told me a little about her sexual history, and I told her not very much about my lack-thereof. Masturbation came up a few times in an abstract sense. She casually mentioned at one point (much to my delight) that she was single.

Given the heat and isolation, she always wore quite revealing clothing – tank tops, crop tops, nike shorts, etc. Her fit body made it quite difficult to avoid staring sometimes. I think she caught me a few times, but she would sort of smile and just go back to what she was doing. Needless to say she was a frequent subject of my thoughts when I was masturbating.

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*****

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At some point in late September, I came home after buying groceries, and took some math homework out to the balcony to work. As I sat down at my table, I heard a couple of moans from Claire’s balcony. I couldn’t stop myself from turning to look. Claire lay on her couch, fingering herself. Her eyes were closed, her top was unbuttoned, and her right boob had spilled out, aided by her left hand, which was gently tugging at the nipple.

I froze. While one part of my mind knew that the gentlemanly thing to do would be to quietly leave and allow her the privacy to finish in peace, the less gentlemanly part of my mind wanted to stay and watch, and perhaps join in the self-pleasuring.

The conflict between these urges and the shock of seeing her like this held me paralyzed for what felt like the better part of a minute, but what was probably no more than fifteen seconds.

Eventually, the gentlemanly part won out, and I stood up to leave. Unfortunately (or fortunately), as I stood up, I bumped the metal chair I had been sitting in, and it groaned deafeningly as it scraped over the rough concrete.

I glanced back over to Claire, hoping she hadn’t noticed. The sound of the chair however had been about as far beneath her notice as oil in third world countries is beneath the notice of the US military. She turned bright red, and quickly removed her hand from her pants and pulled her shirt back over her boob. Her shirt, she left unbuttoned, keeping a delightful amount of cleavage in view.

She quickly recovered from the shock of seeing me. “Good afternoon Joel, what a coincidence seeing you here, I was just thinking about you!” We both laughed. My reaction to this obvious hint felt like something out of [casually explained](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xa-4IAR_9Yw). I kind of just allowed the subject to change, and we got to chatting, and we both stayed on the balcony doing schoolwork until we each went to bed.

After that encounter, I spent far too much mental effort trying to figure out what that had all meant. She had chosen to finger herself in a place that would obviously be visible to me, and told me she’d been thinking about me. On the other hand, perhaps that was just a mildly flirty joke, and maybe she is just mildly flirty with everyone. Maybe she’s just open about her sexuality and doesn’t mind it if her friends catch her masturbating.

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I’m sorry that this post wasn’t particularly spicy. At some point I’ll post a part 2 that will be somewhat spicier. Let me know what you guys think of my writing, any constructive criticism is appreciated.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/mktgt4/catching_my_neighbor_claire_fingering_herself