I’d been watching her for weeks.
The day her family moved into the house next door, she’d removed the tattered old curtains from her bedroom window. From my sofa, I could see directly in. She’d put up some art prints, a couple of posters. But she’d never replaced the curtains.
She looked to be college-aged – petite and curvy, she was five foot nothing with jet black hair. The oldest daughter, I assumed. A couple of days after they moved in, around midnight, I saw the light come on in her room. I glanced over and my life changed.
She was stood at the window, taking pictures of herself. And she was completely naked. Her big, natural breasts pressed slightly against the glass. He waist close enough for me to see that she was completely shaven, with big puffy labia creating a delightful coinslot. She didn’t see me – that time.
For two weeks this was her ritual – standing naked in the window before bed, taking selfies. I’d come to take it for granted so much that it didn’t even occur to me that she might look in my direction.