Just watching...

Part 3.

Something changed that night. He began to look over at the Villa quite often, hoping for the curtains to be drawn. He justified himself, telling his inner polite boy that nobody would ever know anything. A sunny Saturday morning he visited a thrift shop, buying himself a nice pair of binoculars. "I have always really liked birdwatching" he told himself. It was later that day, when he unpacked the binoculars, he felt the sour taste of shame. But all the same, later that night he couldn't stop himself from testing the binoculars and the distance between his window and the red Villa. The curtains were pulled, but he could see small stripes of light gleaming trough the heavy fabric. He felt a small exiting shiver in his gut, seeing how clear the view was.

Days past, and he still hadn't had a chance to test the binoculars. Work was back on track, his female student still asking for help, now pushing her soft chest on his ear while leaning inn for a better look at his computer. She asked him for an opportunity to buy him a drink, maybe even a meal, as a thank you for all good help and counselling. He declined. Telling her he didn't date his younger clients, disappointment and irritation(?) were visible on her face. He smoothed things over, politely and with a charming smile he brought her to the faculty's cafeteria. After a coffee and some doughnuts, he friend zoned her, and went back to his apartment.

That night he went out with some good friends. It was a bit late when he came home, a little bit tipsy. He went to the window for a quick peek at the Villa. And there they were. Naked tangled up on the bed. The woman dressed in a pink corset on her back sprawled on the white sheets. The binoculars, he should test them. Hurriedly he opened the cupboard under the television set and picked them up. His tipsy self walking carefully towards the beanbag before he put the binocular in front of his eyes. Carefully turning the lenses against the big windows, adjusting them for a clear view. His breath got stuck in his throat, and he could feel his cheeks getting warm. The woman was actually a beauty. The man as handsome as expected. It was like he was in the room with them, only sound and smell missing. He watched the Beauty's face, eyes shut, mouth formed in a slight smile. The man's head between her legs, him looking up at her with a warm smirk no and then. He watched them having sex. Slowly and with love and care for each other. And the peeper couldn't take his eyes of them. He felt touched, looking at the obvious love and respect between the two. A rush of guilt and shame went trough his body. He was intruding their privacy, watching their intimate moments for his own satisfaction. At some point he put the binoculars down. Still, he couldn't take his eyes from the big windows. The Beauty moved. She was on her knees and hands, facing the window while she lifted her face up. The man behind her, with his hands at her hips. And that was when disaster struck.

Her eyes suddenly met the peepers! For some reason he couldn't move his eyes, hers stuck with his. She held his eyes, showing no signs of panic. Her man moving his head up, eyes wandering. The peeper looked around frantically and then it dawned on him. He hadn't dimmed the lights. His tipsy self sat in a big beanbag flooded in the bright light of his apartment watching his neighbours love life. He lifted his head, meeting her eyes with shame. But he was met by a big smile. Her face lifted high, hands now resting in the windowsill. The soft round breasts escaping her pink corset, and her right-hand sneaking down between her legs. The man behind her still holding on to her hips moving him self in a manner nobody could misunderstand. The peeper bent his head in an apologetic way. When he raised his head again, she was still looking at him leaning slightly against the window kind of invitingly. He kept watching them reach their high. The Beauty linking her eyes with him almost all the way, but in the end, she laid her forehead against the window losing eye contact. He couldn't move, frozen in the big beanbag, when she lifted her head again.

A big smile on her face, she lifted her left hand and sent him a flying kiss.