My neighbour IS a Stripper!

Original fiction written by myself (Andrew 🙂 ) and after rather painful reading one week later, I wished I’d waited because lol the beginning to my ‘erotic’ tale is rather painful reading. Just so as you know I’ve edited slightly, lol you live and learn!

Let us agree to descibe this as flawed but fun?

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No actor played the ‘Voyeur’ better than James Stewart……………….. 
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………… watching ‘Miss Torso’s’ ass (well you would wouldn’t you!)

(And btw a tale of Voyeurism and NOT the movie ‘Rear Window’)

🙂 Now please read on………………………..

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Movie still directed by ‘James Spader’

One late summer’s evening ten or so years ago, standing whilst leaning against my bedroom window-sill I gazed out upon a typically British urban scene, though not necessarily looking at the detached house of my neighbours opposite, if you really wish to know and I hope you do for the purposes of this tale, I’d awoken that summer’s night to watch one of natures true wonders, sheet lightning illuminating the pitch dark sky accompanied by ear shattering claps of thunder, so loud I’d flinch with shock! I don’t believe in God and creationism, but watching this impending thunder storm, a true marvel of our natural world, I couldn’t wait for the lashing rain, perhaps on evenings such as these I’ll contemplate ‘the meaning of life’, because surely some divine ruler must have created this spectacular display!

So I’ll ask you a question, before an electric lightning thunder show consummates with a pavement smashing deluge of rain, transforming the air icy cold within seconds, how do they begin? Yes and I hope you’re keeping up, that particular evening was uncomfortably warm, a humid balmy atmosphere meaning sleep was restless if not impossible and if you are unacquainted with British weather, evenings such as these happen only three or four times a year in Britain and looking sideways at houses along my street, all my neighbours windows were open with curtains gently fluttering in time with the humid breeze.

Then all of a sudden, catching me totally unawares, an attic room light switched on in the house opposite, a white light so bright against its dark brown tiled pitched roof, this room glowed in the night. The shock quite startled me from contemplative thoughts of life wonderment and creation, and for the life of me I suddenly felt the urge to all but stumble toward a bedroom shelf and grab my pair of birdwatching binoculars and btw I’m NOT a ‘peeping Andrew’ by nature, but yes I’ll admit to watching pretty ladies boobs. Binoculars in hand, I hurriedly returned to my bedroom sill position steadying myself looking at the attic room window across the street (and please be aware I’ve never done this before or since, as for legalities?) I’d propose ‘an Englishman’s home is his castle’ and this bedroom window is mine to peep through if I so wish………… now call the Police! 

(Ok I’d agree watching through binoculars was a touch creepy, hey ho!)

With my two elbows propped upon the sill, I can clearly remember physically trembling as I brought the binoculars up to my eyes, then seconds after locating this brilliant white light, finally my neighbour’s room focussed into view and wow that window opposite flooded the optics in entirety and clarity. As if only metres away, I could clearly see the room inside with it’s white painted walls and a second window directly behind looking out onto the farm fields beyond, because this attic room sat below a roof sided apex, it’s very own bedroom walls have you will, only the centre part of the room was tall enough for one person to stand upright in.

Remember this fact because it is important to my tale!

Now to my second heart stopping shock of this truly eventful evening, sparking my imaginations alive the silhouette of a middle aged woman walked into the room’s centre, a slim bodied female pausing opposite our bedroom windows and WOW lucky me watching from across the street. I of course knew this lady well, and let us name her Helen for the purposes of this tale, there she stood motionless, a handsome looking woman 55years old if a day and no taller than 5’5″, yes she’s a girlish Grandmother in the autumn years of her life but with her slender figure, pert bosom and wrinkle free skin, I’m here to tell you mature lady Helen would make many a young buck’s groin twitch hard!

I gulped and swallowed, my trembling hands trying their utmost to keep the binoculars steady, yet my imagination has seldom felt more alive before or since because I’m telling you now, watching any woman is thrilling and sure to make my penis throb hard.

Though the thought crossed my mind, ‘Helen could well be aware Andrew is spying through her window?’

And so for half an hour or so, playing out before my disbelieving eyes began an eroticised performance a guy wishes for in his wildest dreams, sexual fantasies of near naked women sending him to sleep, curled fingers reigning in his bucking hardness, tingling balls within a bulging scrotum ready to shoot their warm sticky seed!

With every nerve in my body electrified alive, I watched as my neighbour Helen wandered the tiny space for what I always assumed was a bedroom, left then right she moved but always returning to her room’s middle window and my transfixed view, only disappearing for seconds at a time, Helen would pause motionless and the thought crossed my mind ‘was she hoping expecting I’m watching her slim figure clothed by only a mustard yellow tee shirt?’ Oh and white shorts clearly visible above her deep silled window.

Then suddenly she turned to lean out the opposite window, gaze for herself at the electric lightning show beyond, and oh my god like a proverbial streak of lightning, I realised those weren’t shorts Helen was wearing because in the process of stretching and leaning forward, the tops of two pink thighs came into view exposing just a hint of rosy buttock cheeks, oh my sweet Jesus… ‘Helen wore panties and NOT shorts after all!’ 

Shocks like these aren’t healthy for a man my age but instinctively I knew I’d never watch the like of this ever again, secretly viewing attractive knicker wearing women come only once in a lucky man’s lifetime.

Perhaps now bored of watching God’s lighting show, or having decided Andrew had seen quite enough of her ass, Helen glanced into the room’s centre and proceeded to shock me yet again. Holy %&’$ is this woman trying to murder me for in one choreographed graceful movement she slipped off her panties before tossing to one side so revealing a triangular mop of brown pubic hair to match her locks of brunette, a shoulder length style that suited her thinnish pretty face for as I said Helen’s a handsome woman.

Now naked from the waist down, well just below her hairy covered vulva and no not even my binoculars could focus that passport ‘slit’ to heaven, Helen again began to glide her tiny bedroom space all the time with pieces of cloth to hand, five glorious minutes passed by though I have a feeling Helen’s laundry folding display took a good while longer, yet again catching me unawares my sexy neighbour paused, her slim body framed picture perfect behind the attic window, her pretty face wistfully gazing across the room through a stare of deep concentration, and that’s when the ‘proverbial penny dropped’, at last I understood the reason she’d stare into space, ‘Helen’s gazing at her reflection in a mirror opposite isn’t she!’

Placing two hands aside her hips, she all but swayed in a rhythmic arc, first to the left then to the right all the while eyes fixed upon a distant object perhaps a full body length mirror? Oh yes I’ve never been more certain of a fact in my life Helen was admiring her reflection of that I’m now sure, then catching me quite unawares how many more times can this happen? She smoothed her hands across the cotton tee shirt, palms gliding up and over two gentle mounds of pert peaky bosom, only pausing to cup hold and squeeze and why not for she possessed a shapely pair of tits.

My groin ‘bucked’ as if about to ejaculate creamy sticky semen, but I didn’t cum as pleasure giving chemicals coursed through my brain, I gulped hard to catch a breath because for truly the first time that humid summer’s evening, I sensed something near unbelievable was about to happen yes and oh my sweet Jesus yes, Helen began to remove a last remaining garment, with two hands gently clasping the hem of her tee shirt, in one flowing movement Helen drew the garment upwards over her head with long hair pulling messily through the opening, before tossing to one side. And there she stood, motionless, eyes transfixed to a reflection gazing back, very nearly naked with her mopped pubic hair, a pink slender torso and breasts enclosed within her brilliant white bra.

‘Yes a bra! And there’s me assuming women just don’t bother when at home?’ 

God knows how I didn’t cum, though I could hardly breath through cheeks burning hot and a heart racing so fast it was surely about to explode, and there Helen stood for what seemed minutes thoughtfully admiring her beauty with pursed amused lips and hint of girlish smile. Yes she appreciated her aged body because Helen was still a handsome looking lady, then just as my trembling hands calmed she reached behind, stretching her arms she fumbled the clasp on her bra band allowing the delicate garment of intimate lingerie to fall from her body, hoops of bra strap slipping down smooth skinned arms towards the floor.

And there she stood motionless, my sexy neighbour from across the road stark naked from just below her waste up, two gentle mounds of small pointy breasts and if my eyes didn’t deceive me I’d guess they were a double AA cup. Que the culmination of this evening’s excitement, almost the instant she dropped her bra I climaxed, came hard within my night time boxers shorts, and all without hand stimulation for remember they gripped my binoculars! Feeling my groin ejaculate warm sticky semen stream across my inner thighs, and if you’re really curious my first hands free orgasm at the sight of a naked woman.

Two thousand seconds had ticked from the alarm clock on the bedside table, that’s how long our strip show lasted, a voyeurs delight the like of which I’d only seen in ‘dirty videos’, and now as Helen smiled at her reflection, my breathless mind began to regain composure, feeling utterly exhausted I lent back perching on the side of my bed, nights such as these come but once in a lucky guy’s lifetime, and as for all you readers shaking their head and muttering phrases like,

“Dirty Peeping Tom!”

Remember the window I gazed out of this balmy summer’s evening is on my property, yes you could label me voyeuristic and pervy, but this view is mine to own and I would suggest to any lady undressing herself naked, perhaps it’s prudent to close one’s curtains first!

Though hold on just a second, there’s always the hope Helen knew I was watching, timed her attic room strip after seeing my silhouette pressed against the bedroom window, watching this spectacular thunder lightning show. Hmm maybe she wished me to watch? Perhaps she hoped I’d be naughtily masturbating at the sight of her youthful Grandma’s breasts? Who knows but those two thoughts amuse me to this day whenever we meet in the street, hmm are we both playing mind games of,

‘You didn’t know I was watching on that warm summer’s night……. did you?’

So how did my sultry evening’s tale end, I guess after minutes of looking admiringly at her nude reflection and why an earth not, well as abruptly as this theatrical show began, so just as abruptly ‘came’ the finale or as I’d like to muse Helen thought I’d seen quite enough nudity. Just at that point of orgasm she disappeared from view, the attic room turned pitch black and I placed the binoculars upon the window sill beside me. Yes this once in a lifetime finished with my pleasured body cooling, my conscious mind happy and spent I quietly watched tonight’s thunder show’s final climatic scene, the air temperature tumbled as cooling rain lashed the tarmac road opposite, so cold in fact I returned to my bed a satisfied but exhausted man.

😀 I gotta leave you with a question, if you caught a glimpse of a sexy person undressing in their bedroom, would you watch or turn away?

The End.

(I hope reader’s enjoyed my tale and for those who didn’t, a photo post follows sooon……… unless I change my mind………. which I often do!)

A. Shepherdson 2019

‘I bit my Pillow!’ (how my tale began)

Third and final part to my true pickup tale.

Henry Scott Tuke (1858-1929)
I enjoy looking at great paintings and this Cornish Scene by Henry Scott Tuke (1858-1929) looks good on my post bearing in mind my story’s gay theme, btw exhibited at Tate Britain. (Copyright Warwick District Council)

I’m openly honest here on my WordPress, tooo honest sometimes, well I’m hoping you’ll have read my story ‘I bit my Pillow!’ and if you did you’ll remember I said I would let you know which parts are true as happened and which parts are fiction!

‘I bit my Pillow!’, I 😀 agree a bl**dy awful title.

When I said we had gay sex and kissed well that was 100% fiction sorry to disappoint, but as I said yesterday parts are true. So just to be clear the sex is drawn from my imagination………… lol I cannot make you believe me but jeeze I hope you do.

So now you’ve read the tale this is how the episode came about btw in the spirit of fairness and honesty this is an old tale I enjoyed re writing.

Many years ago whilst holidaying by myself in central France, late one summer’s evening I found myself sitting alone inside Le Man’s Railway Station waiting room. The tale of how I came to be there is a rather long and tortuous one just understand I’m feeling desperate, my spoken French is embarrassingly appalling, the Station is emptying about to close for the night and I had absolutely nowhere to sleep that night, my only certainty within minutes the Entrance gates would be locked shut and I was soon to experience how sleeping rough on the Street actually feels…………. a truly spine chilling thought and terribly sad for the people who have no choice!

Then with only minutes to spare a middle aged guy appears as if from nowhere, sits down beside me and strikes up a conversation with this weary disorientated very depressed traveller. I was far from feeling sorry for myself, couldn’t understand him and my tired mind was in the grip of fear and loneliness, he invited me to spend the night in his home and I said yes!

I ask what an earth would you do faced with a night living on the Streets? The possibility of being mugged raped beaten up murdered a possibility, or the comfortable certainty of being driven by a rather polite personable guy to his home? Better still an unknown home where he’d provide you with a warm bed to sleep the night in. What’s more he promised on his life he’d drop me back at Le Man’s Station early next morning!

Lol what a friendly treasure, who could say no?

What a predicament what a dilemma, even if I’d been at my strongest mentally the choice would have been challenging, THAT my mind was frazzled and unable to think straight made the decision easy. But if I’d been consciously aware and thinking straight I would have absolutely figured out he was a gay man with ulterior predatory motives, a guy cruising public places late at night looking for single men to take home and have sex with! If I’d been approached on a railway station platform in Britain I would have politely told the guy to,

“Get blank lost!” (I wouldn’t lol but you get my gist)

But this late French evening I thanked my kind Samaritan and let him drive me to his home, from first meeting him to being whisked across the City into his bedroom seemed a mere blur of five minutes, and to this day I cannot understand whether I was stupidly foolhardy or naïve, qualities that have plagued my adult life. 

So remember the sex in my tale was fiction all I can admit is I must have been frigging tired because to this day I still don’t no why I went to bed with him?…… Honestly the strangest evening of my life, ask me what went on and well the light dial was turned to a warming dim glow…..…..……, I gazed up at a light flex hanging from the ceiling, then got up and slept on his sofa. (We make bad choices in life get carried away suck it up and move on.)

And I felt wretched for months after, despairingly upset is closer to the truth, I understand why people do dread a terrible dark memory seeping into their consciousness, they drain you of all energy and I did lapse into a deep depression, because well I’m straight! Our meeting confused because I consider myself groomed taken advantage of and tricked into bed, and in those months after I’d gaze at myself in the mirror with feelings of shame knowing I had to face the cold hard fact that I was a naïve guy who can be too trusting…………… but hey show me someone who hasn’t made unfortunate choices and I’ll show you a liar!!

So you get the feeling I hated myself? And note my tale is far from sensationalism, all good story’s are prompted by true events.

And what of today? Thinking back all these years later, that I went to bed naked with a naked guy ‘who fancied me’ is deliciously hilarious, the irony now is every time I think back to our night together I cannot help laughing, where’s the sin in admitting I can be tricked when I know I’m straight and omg what a surreal memory and btw I hope you’re thinking to yourselves ‘whatever!’ 😀

I know I know complete madness going home with a guy I’d never met before, even worse when I came out the shower and he’s standing there naked, jeeze he’d lied to me tricked me groomed me and yes I could have been raped or worse it happens………… I wasn’t. I should add I hope you’re not tooo disappointed to read my plump round ass wasn’t lol violated, anyways all said and done my gay French guy tale will go down as the strangest experience of my life……… I only wish I’d been approached by a kind hearted woman with darker motives!

A. Shepherdson 2018 (Just so as you know I had a blast writing these last 3 posts and 😀 I really hope some readers were left disappointed)