Ray had cooked a delicious welcoming meal. After a couple of glasses of red wine and two sizzling portions of lasagne were devoured, I washed our plates in bubbling, soapy water. The small kitchen in his flat was outdated and modest, but the sink was up against a big window which offered an expansive view. High-rise buildings sprouted in front of me, their heights extending far beyond what I could see within the perimeter of the sash-frame. Little figures dotted the balconies in these neighbouring flats, and lights flickered on and off punctuating the steady pace of human activity. Families were eating dinner and little plasma televisions coloured the overwhelming concrete of each high-rise through windows, like embedded jewels in sedimentary rock. My eyes settled on a middle-aged man in a puffer-jacket, who was smoking on his balcony. He leaned nonchalantly against a solid metal railing and looked out onto the night below. In a seamless motion, I let the steaming water cascade over the smeared plates to wash them, and I imagined what the man might be considering in that very moment. His shoulders were hunched, and he seemed to be deep in thought as he stared out into the night. Could he see me too? Certainly, I was close enough, and it almost seemed as if his gaze, equally, had settled on me through my window.
“My eyes did not leave the man in the opposite building, even whilst I felt Ray’s silky, wet tongue on my ear.”
I felt Ray’s hard body press up against my back, and I continued to dip the plates in and out of the cascading water until they were clean. His eyes fixed on the man too, and I giggled to myself at the possessiveness radiating from every inch of his physique; a physique which was now gently warming my backside. Ray stroked my bum slowly, his palm cupping its shape in the lightest of grips. The thin cotton of my pyjama shorts allowed me to feel the heat of this stroke, and I relished in his soft caress. It felt incredible being touched in a way that I had missed so immensely. My eyes did not leave the man in the opposite building, even whilst I felt Ray’s silky, wet tongue on my ear. I could tell that he was trying to catch my attention with this gesture, tenderly moving his mouth down my neck, leaving a small, invisible trace of saliva in the process. After a moment of deep eye contact, the man’s eyes on mine, Ray’s on the man’s, and mine gazing at the image before me I lifted my shirt and flashed my small, round, naked breasts, which were perfectly framed by the kitchen window.
“What the fuck Lucy? That old man can see you from there.” Ray yanked my shirt hard, knocking my right boob in the process and concealing my flesh from the stranger. My nipples stung.
The man’s shock was just a minor part of my entertainment, albeit satisfying. Let him have a glance at my soft, rosy nipples and the paleness of my exposed skin, I thought. Why not? Yet, what truly made me wild with excitement was the tense form which was still pressed up against my back, his hands now grasping the bottom of my t-shirt, precariously skirting the drawstring of my pyjama shorts.
“It’s funny, babe,” I laughed wildly. “Chill. Let him enjoy it.”
