Flashing my neighbour


Flashing my neighbourUp until a year ago, I lived I a 3 bed semi on a modern “Barratt” estate, just outside Guildford. For those readers that aren’t familiar with these estates in the UK, the important feature for the purpose of this is that the houses were squeezed together as closely as possible when they were built to maximise the return by the developer and this resulted in me having a neighbour who could look out of their bedroom window and directly into the patio doors in our kitchen diner.Now as it goes, the story starts about 6 years ago when I bought the place. I moved in and right away realised that across the back was a nice looking red head who seemed to live there with her geeky looking bloke. I spoke to John in passing and he was nice enough, but he was never going to be setting the world on fire. What turned out to be his wife, was all shy and retiring and I never got a word out of her and never even a glimpse at the bedroom window of her, in fact the curtains seemed to be shut week in week week out and got opened once in a blue moon.Anyway, imagine my joy when John had enough of his red headed wife, booted her out and within a week moved in his new blonde girlfriend, who I later found out was called Claire.Now Claire had a completely different approach to things. You must remember that I am a true voyeur and made it my business to notice every little detail of Claire’s comings and goings, when the curtains opened, who is in when it happens, when she did the laundry and everything else, that gave a little snippet of information to satisfy my perverted mind.As I said, these houses were built on top of each other, so I could see into their downstairs windows from our upstairs the same as they could ours, but bursa escort I also got a good view down into their cars as they backed out of the drive. It’s all another story, but at the same time you get the idea that with a bit of watching and knowing when Claire was going out to work, I could have a good perv down into her little car at her stocking clad thighs (she always wore short skirts) and every now and then I might even get a little glimpse of knicker gusset.Anyway, back to the proper story here. John and Claire’s weekday routine was always the same, John would leave for work about 7.30, Claire would see him off from the front door, dressed in either a red or a pale blue towelling dressing gown often obviously with nothing underneath, but sometimes, especially in the winter, with brushed cotton pyjamas underneath. Once he went, I figure she went and got a shower, because about 7.45, the curtains at one of the bedroom windows would open and she would appear with a towel round her (I could only see the upper half remember) and would proceed to dry her hair and apply her make up. Now, the hair drying was done with her face in profile, and I know she had a mirror on a wardrobe door to the left of the window, because now and then she would open it to get clothes out, so it all made sense. However to do her makeup, Claire would use a small mirror on the window cill so I would get a face on view. At all times the towel is in place, so I see bare shoulders and that’s it. I could see her tits weren’t very big, but no real feel for anything more. She would always disappear to what I thought of as ‘the dark side’ of the bedroom to get dressed and then reappear to check over her previous handiwork, before heading off to bursa escort bayan work herself.Once I got to know her routine, I started flashing her, but only on Tuesday’s as this was the only day my wife went to work before the window show started!So, for a few Tuesday’s, I just spent a bit more time than normal in our kitchen, wearing just my shirt, as if I was rushing about getting ready for work and so that if anything was ever said, I could deny any blatant flashing. After a couple of Tuesday mornings like this, I progressed to opening the French doors and standing out on the decking cleaning and polishing my shoes, again just wearing my work shirt, so my cock and balls were hanging out below the front hem.After a 4 weeks of this sort of thing (just Tuesday’s remember) I got to thinking I wasn’t going to get a reaction from the pretty face at the window. I was convinced she had seen me, as I was very blatant, but never a look or a smile or anything, then all of a sudden on week 5 I got the prize and we started to play the game properly.Claire was at the window a bit earlier and at first I thought she would be done and gone before my wife went off to work, but afterwards, I realised it was probably so she could be sure to see her go! Anyway, I’m there as normal, shirt on, but undone and a good semi showing at the front and there’s Claire, kneeling in front of the window, so I can just see her head and that she’s putting on her makeup. She waits until I look up and then stands up, just a little back from the window, so I can see she is concealed in the customary towel. Today though, instead of disappearing and getting dressed out of sight behind the other set of curtains, she takes the towel off and does a little escort bursa ‘under boob’ rub round with it. This gives me more than a good view of her perky little bee sting titties for the first time. They were obviously very small with just a little sag to them, she was mid twenties or so after all!Finally, she turns to face the window full on and steps a little closer, then puts on a sheer white strapless bra, which was either very thin or lacey enough for me to be able to still see her dark red nipples. She looked right at me giving full eye contact and smiled, before cupping one boob in each hand and then squeezing her nipples through the bra.I was momentarily mesmerised and just stood there, cock in hand, before taking decisive action and dropping my shirt off.So, I’m now naked in the open door and sporting a full hard on. Now as my fellow flashers will know, its often the build up and the adrenaline rush that tips you over the edge rather then the actual act and as I started to slowly wank my cock for her, my heart was already racing and my balls were starting on the final bursting rush towards setting the lads free.I was determined to make the most of this however, in case it was a one off, but as I rolled my foreskin right back to make my helmet stand right out and presented it to her proudly, she lifted a tiny white lacey thong up and showed me it at the window, before bending forward to step into it.I couldn’t last any longer and blew my load right across the decking in four or five great globs.Claire made a big show of putting the rest of her clothes on, but if I’m honest, once I’d shot my bolt, I suddenly felt very aware of the fact that other non participating neighbours also had a good view of our garden and that it was a bit chilly, so I retreated inside to watch the show from the kitchen.This Tuesday morning game was repeated a few times, before I ever spoke with Claire but what happened when I did is a story for another day too.

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