Read at your own risk

A—

I step outside. My naked feet feeling every bit of the cool, cold floor of my balcony. My arms and my torso bare. Feeling the cold, cold breeze of the late afternoon. My breasts bearing the chill of this time of the night and my nipples pebbling due to this sensation. Goosebumps raised on my body, my skin is sensitised.

There he is.

Standing in his usual demeanour, he is there. Standing on his side of the place; the balcony of his house. His silk-like brown hair, raised sexily above his head and have a just-fucked look about them. His suit shirt fitting him right; his taut muscles straining against them. I can see it when he flexes his muscles to raise his arm and places those sexy as sin fingers on those lips. That mouth. His grey slacks accentuating those hips. That prize.

He grins devilishly at me. Smugly smirks, which makes that pouty lower lip of him curl sweetly, but flashes those wicked, depraved promises in his cold grey eyes. Which I'm sure are formidable and dangerous if you ever stand a chance to be anywhere near him. He lazily takes that dark charcoal tie of his off, tugging at it with his strong fingers and unbuttons top two buttons. As if...feeling hot?

All the while I'm chill as fuck. Makes my nipples hard to the point of pain.

It takes my breath away.

I cross my arms over my chest to provide myself some kind of warmth. It's not worth it. The looks of disapproval are enough for me to change that; when he raises those big displeased grey eyes in my direction, boring into mine, the intensity melting my blue ones.

I do it then.

I back up a little against my cold glass floor-to-ceilling window. I can see him falter for a split second. Patience, boy! Raising my forearms up till my head, I lean my head backwards which pushes my breasts upwards and out. For his show. I moan quietly. I then lift my two sticky fingers and agonisingly slow, trace my skin over my neck. Spreading the sweet-smelling honey over my skin. Collarbone to my chest. They hover over my naked breasts; I travel them across my hard nipples. Coating them in the sugary thick liquid; laving them.Suddenly, I pinch them.

Oh. The sensation is sharp but delicious.

He swallows hard. His eyes are permanently glued to the erotic display infront of him, making him disable and paralysed to any motion or coherent thought.

I don't stop it. I rake my fingers further down, between my ribs, down my stomach, circling my belly button.

Ohhh, his breathing is labored.

I fingers reach my mound.

The promised land between my legs.

C—

She keeps on lowering those fingers of hers, playing with herself. Playing with me. My control. My sanity. My patience. Her fingers hover over that clean-shaven pussy of hers barely for a second, before she halts it and stops her movements altogether.

As if she doesn't know what she's playing at...?Promising me something and then taking it all away from me.

She's lucky she ain't within my reach, or else she would've been already slapped hard across that sweet, angel-like face of hers. Devil behind that sweet facade... Putting that smart-mouth to good use. Using that disobedient body for fucking her hard and fast.

I halt in my senses just then.

I'm hard in my trousers.

She does this everyday. Living across the opposite lane from me, it gives us a perfect opportunity for us to show and tell. For some visual fun. But no one ever dared to reach across the other one.

She comes out, stands in her balcony every night. Giving me a show. Leading me on. Promising me. Tantalizing me.

That sexy bitch!

Everyday is a novel surprise. Knocking my senses. She loves to shock me. To provoke me. Urge me. Heighten the pleasure with pain. Sometimes she remains inside her room. Big, wide and white. Floor to ceiling windows. Matching my room's modern interior. Only, it's just white. White curtains, white sheets, white walls...contrary to my dark ones; aesthetically pleasing hues of greys, blues and browns.

Sometimes she presses her whole body against the solid cold glass. Her body squashing. Staring at me. Unafraid of that risqué stunt or for someone to see her, she rubs the entire length of her body up and down then. Stimulating her pink nipples. Gaining the sexual pleasure from the object. Getting herself wet. I know...

She remains naked.

Must be alone...I've never seen her in any proper article of clothing. Not even a single time in anything that would be an implication of something more life-like, exuberant or youthful...All she wears is a flimsy, transparent long sheet of cloth, its tail going on for miles and miles. Saturated in morbid, lifeless and mundane colours. Giving her a ghost like aura...

Any person who'd look at her would think that everything about her exudes that ghost-like feel about it.

Her pale, porcelain skin and her big blue eyes are an indication of this theory. They can stare at you for hours without so much as even blinking; as if casting a spell on you, spellbinding you, making you hers...

Her long thick chestnut hair frames her face artfully. Almost all the times it's down, reaching her lower back in those sexy, messy waves.

How I want to entangle my hand in her head and roughly grab it, to give her what she loves the most.

Pain.

Her bangs do create an angelic halo on her head...but I know better than that. Nothing...can mask that evil presence and those depraved desires residing deep in the core of her identical heart.

She never leaves that apartment. Never goes out. Her days are spent inside. Quietly. I wonder what she does...? Or, I do know. She has fun. Alot of fun. More than any normal human has.

There she is now...standing in front of me. Smiling wide. It's an illusion actually. One way, if you'd look at her you'd think that's a genuine, good-natured, friendly smile. Only, nothing about this is genuine or warm. It's a cruel deception of hers. And it's ice-like cold. Only I can decipher or see through that smile of hers for what it actually is. It's that of a cunning mistress, trying to rein everything inside, making its way out through her eyes.

It's difficult you know...when you've approached those heights of corruption and perversion. Moral deviance. When you want even more of it...

She's only wearing the same transparent white cloth. I can see how that is causing her trouble today; my eyes fail to suppress humour. Her whole body seems rigid to me. The cloth on her body raised for the way her nipples are elongated.Yet, I know she wouldn't wear clothes.

Despite this, her skin looks so soft and plump to me. Fresh. Flawless. Those long legs of hers soft and silky; her feminine body untainted and unmarked.

Perhaps, she hasn't been touched before? Maybe.

Those creamy hips. Look so round.

What I wouldn't give to slap it hard, and stop to see it bounce.

No. Not just that. I want to mark her. Taint her. Scar her.

Make her mine...

If only I could cure damn attraction towards her.

I look up and the next thing I see is beyond my imagination.

That vixen is bent down and has opened her legs wide. Wide enough for anyone to see what lies in between them. Her core is glistening, when she parts it with her fingers, flashing it in my face.

I hardly control myself from going over there, to her and restraining her movements. No. I might slap her hands away and tie them down tightly for the rest of the day as her punishment. Tight enough to bruise her dainty wrists.Still standing in that position, which is extremely risqué irrespective of the fact that barely a soul is out right now to see the show she's put on, she quickly pokes her pussy hole with the middle finger. Brings it out with a pop. Snaps her legs close and struts inside.

To say that I'm beyond livid is an understatement. I can't rein my nerves. Calm down... I mentally chant to myself.

The nerve of her.

Everything about what I just saw was unacceptable. It was hedonism to it's utmost limit.

She goes inside, as I keep my angry glare fixated on her mischievous ones. She knows I'm pissed.

She sits on her bed, crossing her legs. Popping that offending finger into her dirty, dirty mouth...Biting her plump pink lip.

"I have to do something about this!!!"

Letting out a roar was the only possible way of providing myself some kind of relief. Only to hear her giggle in retaliation, from across.

I contemplate to...

Review, if you want me to continue, bishes ;)