through a window lightly

I hadn’t thought I’d be brave or stupid enough to do it again, but it seems despite any attempts at

It was just becoming less dark as the morning yawned to life, inside and out as the world beyond my windows and walls started to wake up as I was doing.  I turned on a lamp, climbed out of bed in my PJ’s which consisted of purple and white comfy bottoms and a loose baggy red tee shirt and peek out cautiously peeked out from the curtains onto the dawning day to find a little greyness with some clouds but I had the feeling there was promise in a glimmer of blue poking through. It boded well I thought, for a good, dry day, maybe for an adventure out and about around the Sales.  I had no plans today to the world was my oyster from the moment I opened my eyes and all I and to do was decide a plan of action

I pulled them open completely to both sides and peered down and over the streetscape from my third floor room and then across to the student flats opposite whose windows revealed some still curtained, other opens, some even with their light on into which I could clearly see people milling about, making breakfasts, reading, watching whatever breakfast, or as it was now, mid-morning rubbish to perhaps idle away the time before they too decide how to indulge the day.

I stretched, yawning, did some bends to stretch myself some more, my quickie yoga moment before venturing out to the kitchen for tea and breakfast. I flopped forward like a rag doll and eased my spine back up one vertebrae at a time until upright again, then I repeated it each time feeling my spine easing out any sleep that still lingered in between each one When I came up a third time still in front of the window I stretched my arms behind my head and back and bent to one side then the other moving more freely now than I had been on first scrabbling out of bed. But just as I was about to turn and head for breakfast I stayed where I was looking out still on the world, people waking up, stirring, starting their respective days and run my hands over my tummy under my tee, feeling my skin warm to the touch all around my waist.  I was hungry, but also I was aware of also being something else, somewhat aroused.

I don’t know what prompted this feeling right here and now but I strode over to the main room light and turned it on, and even though it wasn’t dark and in fact now clear daylight though somewhat grey still, I know for certain it still allowed a clear view from the outside into my room. That is, for anyone who’d bothered to glance.

I kept running my hands over my tummy teasing my fingers into my waist band of my bottoms which were tied with simple white lacing and then found them slipping further beneath my shirt to my bra which I hadn’t as I usually do, removed before going to bed last night. I was absurdly tired after all. In fact I had left not just my bra on but also my knickers.  I must have been tired, and just slipped my PJ’s over them. Lucky I even had the presence of mind to get into them at least.

It has been a long day at university followed by a bit of socialising with some friends after followed by getting back and managing a couple of slices of toast before crashing out, and clearly not fully preparing for bed as usual.  By now certain sensations were emerging across my body, particularly where I touched myself like flicking switches.  I suddenly felt daring again, or stupid, either way, I did what I did as if some inner voice was saying, just do it, you know you want too.

I clearly needed release something clawing inside me and the more I focused on this feeling the more potent it got.   I needed to let unfold what will unfold and was unfolding before my very hands as they went on feeling my own body, my curves, my own warmth, my own heartbeat pulsing away and getting somewhat faster.  I had to follow these sensations through to wherever they lead me.

In front of the open window with the light now on and no doubt letting any all and sundry see into my room and me with little effort. I should’ve but didn’t close the curtains and started to arouse myself even further with small touches, teases, tempting my own fingers to explore my own skin which I did willingly. I edged up my red shirt and caressed my breast there and then unabashed, unashamed, uninhibited and though it was just my own hand and not another’s which would usually be far more invigorating I did start to feel and almost imagine it was making it something more than just me touching me.

I strangely began to feel quite high, light-headed, horny at my own advances, at my own fortitude in not stopping as I pulled up my shirt and stretched it over my head and then arms until it was off leaving me stood there in bra and PJ bottoms which sat loosely on my hips. For some bizarre reason I was almost tempted to belly-dance but didn’t, perhaps feeling perhaps I looked something like one about to perform. Well, I may well have been about to perform, but a belly-dance it wasn’t.

I looked down into the street again not that far below and people were beginning to mill about and then across to the flats opposite, also getting busier and more active. I felt my breast with both hands pushing them together in their bra, their light blue half-cut bra and seemed to enjoy the shivers it sent through by my own fingers and hands. Of course if it was someone else it would have been far more exciting but make do and mend, I only had myself that morning and needs must, I thought.

I had given myself to whatever was happening by now, sold my soul perhaps, and enjoyed the feeling of my nipples becoming firm with continued attention then left both hands slip flatly over my tummy and down to the low waist of my PJs and played with their waistband and then the knot, the bow, that held the lace which I began to untie.  My fingers teased it loose and immediately I felt them loosen, not enough to fall off of course but enough to be aware of a certain freedom against the skin.

Should I? shouldn’t I?

Should I pull them down?

I was in two minds, or so I thought but truth is I think I was in one mind, mine, and it said yes, yes, I should, most definitely should.  Who was I to argue and slipped my fingers into them and turning with my back to the window now teased them down a couple of inches feeling a rush through my limbs at my boldness.  I pulled them a little more knowing I was now showing my knickers, my pink brief knickers to the outside world which were only barely concealing my bum.

A thrill, an excitement, an intensity grew inside me now, and a heat far hotter than could be explained by the central heating. I felt my face flushed; why, there was no one there but me, and surely it was unlikely anyone was even noticing me up here by my window with the light on in broad daylight doing what seems to be undressing.

But the thought of it, the possibilities, the not knowing, that was enough to send me into a quiet fervour of intent to go further. Go further, I heard that voice again.

I pulled them further down revealing my knickers and bottom, turning to face the window continuing to ease them down surrendering them gravity. I stood out of them and left them on the floor as I stood there semi-naked in just my knickers and bra looking out on the world out there beyond my control.

MY hands found their way over my again, this time I was definitely excited, and run them over my lingerie over the material, feeling the cotton of my knickers so soft, reassuring and thin.  So what, I thought, how is it much different from being in my bikini?

I knew in essence I was exposing myself but really, how much could anyone see in broad daylight anyway? I was far beyond stopping now and in a weird way curious as to how far I’d go, as though I was almost watching myself; definitely daring myself.

Do it, said that voice once again, do it.

My body began to ache, needing me to stretch again and I did, in many ways until reaching around behind my back I just had to unhook my bra. Did I? Seems I did, and did, one, two, three, they came away and loosened around my chest where I held it for a moment or two to my letting one strap then the other come away then taking a deep breath letting it fall away into my hands as I dropped it too next to my pj’s on the floor.  Freeing my boobs from their all-night prison, my nipples noticeably erect and very noticeably to me, sensitive.

I stood my ground, or my carpet, by the window as brave as I dared which I thought was fairly brave. I felt each one imagining other hands, stranger’s hands, doing the very same thing, wishing they were and almost conjuring their presence even though I knew that wouldn’t help.   I ran my hands over all of me now, my shoulders, my arms, my breast and tummy and waist and now to my hips and then between my legs to feel myself with a shudder and flush of embarrassment; but not stopping either. Again I imagined another’s hands, anyone’s, there, there, and definitely there.

My pale pink knickers were all I now wore against my pale skin, the rest of me on display merely increasingly my fantastical urges that beckoned me deeper into wants and desires of the erotic kind.

Unconsciously, or that’s what I tell myself, I was moving my body, subtly and sinuously to some imagined music. I raised my arms over my head and stretched, then turning around bent over again as I had done earlier, though then fully-dressed and now in just my knickers. I knew my bottom was on full show though still clothed.  Is anyone watching? I hoped not. I hope so. I hope not. I hope so. That little voice kept contradicting me, teasing me, pulling me into its orbit of shameless desires.

Should I?

Shouldn’t I?

Again this strangest of conversations took place in my head and that little voice, again, seem to dominate.

Should I?

Shouldn’t I?

Do it, do it, you’ve come this far.

While still bending over from standing I slipped my fingertips into my knickers, under the pink material and stood upright again; daring myself, daring myself. Where is that voice when I need it now, to tell me what to do.

Then there it was again, do it, do it, you’ve come this far.

I was feeling like my own voyeur, looking down at my own body, the me I’m so familiar with inside and out, that most of the time I probably take for granted and don’t even feel sexy at all, or brave, or bold, and yet here I was. Why would anyone be looking anyway, they are so busy and wrapped in their own lives. I hope no one sees. I hope someone does, I hope no one looking. I hope someone is.

My fingers were still hooked in the elastic as I started to pull them down with my back to the window, easing them over my buttocks inch by slow inch feeling them coming away from my hips so easily, imagining what if it was not my own hands but that of another, or more than one other. What if, what if.

Between my thighs I was very aware of a warm, wet sensation, soft, reassuring, exciting.

Don’t stop now.

Why am eve listening to it telling me this and telling me that. But I am and my fingers insist on pulling my pink knickers away from my buttocks showing myself to the world outside. I almost stopped just then and then turned around to face the window but still with my knicker part-down. Foolishly I kept going and going until they were coming away from my inner thighs and again with my back to the window completed the final test. Was it a test? Did I pass?

I was naked and tempted to turn around and face the world beyond my window. I slipped my hand between my thighs and began caressing, feeling, finding, touching, pinching and rolling my fingers around and around the most tender parts of me. My legs were held together as I explored my own body, my own urges once again. I’ve been here before, differently but I have, I keep listening and responding to these avaricious desires that crave to be fed. The taboo is taboo because it can be so much more intensely tempting.

I kept touching, touching, masturbating there in front of the window with that little voice saying, turn around, turn around.  I protested to myself but couldn’t resist at least trying and did, turned around still standing just and feeling my legs close to collapse as I kept rubbing and enduring self-pleasure in, what almost felt like, public. I kept feeling my naked nakedness, moistness, smooth skin responding to each and every incursion and incitement until, until, until….

my body surrendered crumbling from the inside out reaching each limb in turn until folding my legs beneath me as though I’d been hit my an invisible wave that threatened to drown me. My muscles were wracked and contracting all over, especially between my thighs where I kept one hand feeling the surge envelope me utterly then curling up into a ball on the floor; totally naked, totally spent and totally grinning to myself.

You see, you wanted too after all.

© 2018 Emmaleela