She was quite sure they watched her, the couple who lived across the way. The street was narrow, the balconies small; no more that twenty yards separated their second floor apartment from hers.
She could feel their eyes on her early mornings when she rose and shuffled half naked from her bedroom into the kitchen. She kept the lights low while she made coffee, her bare nipples straining in the cool morning air, her panties bunching in the crack of her ass. Surely, they could see her through the half-closed blinds.
She knew they glimpsed her crossing from the bathroom, fresh from the shower, into her bedroom, her clothes laid out across the bed. They must have seen when she toweled off, then tied the towel around her head and rubbed lotion on her legs, ankles to thighs.
She suspected they caught her that evening on the sofa. She’d been watching a foreign film with sub-titles and lots of sex. She plunged a hand deep into her sweats, pinching her clit and fingering until she came like thunder on the prairie.
She wondered if they saw that early morning of the man in the blue raincoat. She picked him up in a bar, brought him back home, and pushed him onto the kitchen table. She knelt before him, unfurled his beautiful cock, and sucked without stopping
