Neighbor Window Show

Eight months, three weeks, four days and roughly eleven hours. That was how long it had been since Lakshmi and her husband had last been intimate. She remembered the date clearly because it had been her fifty-third birthday. She would not call it making love. They had not done that in years. Their physical life had faded after their daughter was born, and the girl was twenty-seven now, settled in Bengaluru with a job of her own.

They hardly did anything together anymore. If Lakshmi stopped cooking his meals and washing his clothes, she sometimes wondered whether Ramesh would even notice her presence in the house. The only reason they stayed married, she suspected, was that neither of them wanted the trouble and expense of a divorce.

Her name was Lakshmi. She lived in a modest independent house on a quiet residential lane near the edge of Coimbatore, not far from the old textile mills area. For her age she was still presentable. She was small, about five feet three, with short dark hair that had begun to show a little grey at the temples. Her face was round and smooth, with a soft dimple in her chin when she smiled. She carried extra weight around the middle and wished she could lose a few kilos, but her figure still held the full curves of a woman who had lived a complete life. Ramesh had been only the third man she had ever been with, and until recently he had remained the last.

Perhaps it was only her hormones, but these days it felt as if the whole world was full of sex. It was on television, in the newspapers, on the internet, everywhere. Lakshmi worked as an administrative assistant at a local arts and science college. All day long she saw young men and women in their late teens and early twenties flirting in the corridors, laughing too close, sometimes touching each other when they thought no one was watching. The staff had to keep an eye on the quieter corners of the campus during breaks. A few months earlier two students, both clearly over eighteen, had been caught in an empty classroom during the lunch hour. The boy had told the lecturer it was none of her business. The cheek of it had stayed with Lakshmi for days.

With all that energy around her, she could not stop wondering why she herself was getting none of it. She had given up on Ramesh long ago. At her age she could not simply walk into a local bar and expect to find company. In a bigger city maybe, but not here. Sometimes she spent hours looking at websites where people advertised for casual meetings. She never had the courage to post anything herself, and she was certainly not going to pay for attention.

The answer to her frustration arrived one morning a few weeks earlier, quite unexpectedly. The college summer holidays had just started, so she was at home all day. She stayed in bed until Ramesh left for the office, then wandered over to her bedroom window as she often did while gathering her thoughts. She was still in her old cotton nightgown. Their house stood on a corner, and the back windows looked out at an angle onto the rear of the first house down the side lane, perhaps thirty yards away.

Just as she was about to go for her bath, she caught a movement in a window of that other house. Without turning her head she shifted her eyes and saw a young man’s face looking straight at her.

She thought about it while the water ran. That house belonged to the Ahmed family. They were polite enough, though she knew them only to the extent of exchanging greetings on the road. The father ran a medical store near the bus stand. They had two children: a daughter in her late teens and an eighteen-year-old son named Sameer. She knew the room where she had seen the face was Sameer’s bedroom; she had noticed him there a few times before. He was not studying at her college, but he would be on holiday as well. It was probably pure coincidence that he had been at his window at the same moment. She almost smiled at the idea of a good-looking young man of eighteen bothering to look at a woman old enough to be his mother.

The next morning, when she stood at her window again, she deliberately turned her eyes in that direction. He was there once more, half-hidden behind the curtain, watching her. A mischievous thought crossed her mind. She pretended to yawn and stretched her arms high above her head so that the nightgown lifted and tightened across her chest. Then she got a shock. She saw him raise something to his eyes. Binoculars.

She stepped back so quickly that she bumped against the bed and sat down hard. For a moment she did not know whether to feel amused or angry. But he had not really seen anything improper, only her in a nightgown she had worn while answering the door to the milkman more than once.

She tried to put it out of her mind, yet the whole day she kept thinking about young Sameer watching her like that. Later she found herself looking at photographs of older women online, telling herself she looked better than most of them. One particular image of a woman leaning out of a window stayed with her. Suddenly a wicked idea took shape and she sat back, almost laughing at herself. If Sameer wants to stare, I will give him something worth staring at.

She woke at dawn the following day and lay still for a long time, stomach tight with nerves, wondering if she really had the courage. At the usual time she swung her feet to the floor and walked slowly toward the window. She did not even glance at Sameer’s house. She simply assumed he was there. After about thirty seconds she reached down, took the hem of her nightgown, and pulled it straight over her head. She stood completely bare. Her full breasts would be clearly visible from that distance.

As if to confirm it, she caught a movement as he pulled the curtain further aside, followed by a brief flash of sunlight on glass. She felt heat rise in her face, yet strangely she was enjoying the exposure. She placed both hands under her breasts and lifted them slightly, as if weighing them. Then she let one fall and, still holding the other, began to circle the dark nipple with her fingertip until it tightened. After a few minutes she stepped back and went to bathe, giggling quietly like a naughty girl.

Over the next few mornings she repeated the display. She discovered that by tilting her head she could bring one nipple to her own mouth and liked the sensation of sucking lightly while her fingers stroked the soft underside of her breast. Afterwards she felt warm and restless and touched herself under the shower while thinking of Sameer watching. That same afternoon, as she stepped out of her front gate, he happened to be walking past. The moment he saw her his eyes widened in alarm and he quickly changed direction, heading back toward his own house.

Sitting at home through the long hot days, thinking about Sameer possibly touching himself while he watched her, Lakshmi began to build a private fantasy: that she would invite him into the house and give both of them what they clearly wanted. He had a pleasant face, though he was short, almost the same height as her, and rather slim. On the few occasions she had spoken to him he had seemed shy and reserved. Knowing the students at her own college, she suspected he had not had many girlfriends yet. She spent time turning the idea over in her mind, but she did not seriously intend to act on it. Then chance stepped in.

Just after lunch on a particularly humid day she was struggling home with several heavy bags from the local market. She set them down outside her gate to wipe the sweat from her eyes and find her key. At that exact moment Sameer came around the corner and almost tripped over the bags. If she had been given even a second to think, she was sure she would have stayed silent. Instead, acting on pure instinct, she heard herself say, “Sameer, isn’t it? Could you help me carry these inside?”

Sameer had been brought up to be polite. He gave her a nervous smile, lifted the bags, and carried them through the front door and into the kitchen, setting them on the counter. As he turned to leave she said, “Thank you. You look as hot as I feel. Would you like something to drink? There is cold water in the fridge, or I was about to make filter coffee.”

He shook his head and mumbled something, already backing toward the door. She gently took his arm. “Come, Sameer. I owe you at least a drink for helping. And I could use a little company. I am alone in the house all day. You were not going anywhere urgent, were you?”

Looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else, he muttered, “No, just the library.” She pulled out a chair. He sat obediently, staring at his hands clasped on the table while the water boiled and she put away the vegetables and packets from the market. She confirmed he would take coffee, poured two steel tumblers, and sat across from him. He seemed uncomfortable, but she managed to learn that he would be leaving for university in the autumn. His parents had been pressing him to find a summer job, yet he wanted a little freedom before studies began again. After that the conversation thinned out.

Lakshmi’s heart was beating hard. The first part of her fantasy had already happened. Sameer was sitting in her kitchen. If she did nothing he would finish his coffee, stand up, and leave, relieved to escape the strange older woman from across the lane. She cleared her throat and said as casually as she could, “I have seen you watching me, you know.”

His head snapped up. Panic filled his eyes. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

She smiled, trying to look calmer than she felt. “In the mornings. From my bedroom window. Do you like what you see?”

He stared at her, swallowed once, then again, and in a strained voice said, “Aunty, I am sorry, I…” His head dropped and he stared at his hands again.

“It’s all right. I am not angry. In fact it is rather flattering to have a handsome young man looking at me that way.” His head sank a little lower. She saw a single tear roll down his cheek and fall onto the table. She reached across and placed her hand over his. He flinched. As gently as she could she asked, “Sameer… have you ever had a girlfriend?” He shook his head and gave a quiet, self-pitying sniff.

Still covering his hand with hers, she asked softly, “Do you touch yourself when you watch me?” He did not answer, but his shoulders began to shake as he cried in earnest. She squeezed his hand lightly. “Would you like to touch me instead?” Tears still on his face, he looked up at her in complete confusion. She continued, “You have already seen me. Would you like to actually put your hands on me?” His mouth opened. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and stared as if he could not believe what he had heard. She smiled and almost whispered, “You can if you want to. I do not mind. In fact I would like it.”

Sameer kept staring. Lakshmi stood, her knees feeling weak, walked around the table and crouched beside his chair. She took his hand, guided it toward her, and placed it lightly against her breast through the thin cotton of her blouse. He looked into her eyes with real fear, as if expecting her to shout. Then his fingers flexed and he gave a gentle squeeze. She was surprised to feel her nipple tighten under his palm. Believing at last that this was not some strange dream, Sameer turned on the chair to face her and cupped his other hand around her other breast, holding both. Acting more on instinct than thought, she stood, took one of his hands, and said, “Come upstairs. We will be more comfortable there.”

She did not know which of them was more nervous as she led him up the narrow stairs to the bedroom she shared with Ramesh. Sameer still looked frightened when she sat him on the edge of the bed and closed the curtains over the window where she had displayed herself for him on previous mornings. She sat beside him and wondered what to do next. Once again instinct took over. She unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time, held it out, and let it drop. Then she reached behind and unhooked her bra. Sameer drew in a sharp breath as her full breasts settled free, the nipples already firm.

His eyes fixed on her chest. He reached out tentatively and cupped one breast, rolling the nipple between finger and thumb as if amazed by the feel of it. A low heat spread through her stomach. Almost at once she felt herself grow wet. She expected him to take the other breast with his free hand. Instead he bent his head and took the nipple into his mouth, lips moving slowly while his tongue circled. She sighed, placed a hand behind his head, closed her eyes and murmured, “That feels so good, Sameer.”

She felt more aroused than she would have believed possible with someone so inexperienced, more aroused than she had felt in years. They sank back onto the bed until Sameer was half-lying across her, mouth and hand still on her breasts. She reached down, found the zip of his trousers, worked it open and slipped her hand inside. She pushed the cotton of his underwear aside and heard him gasp as her fingers closed around him. He was already very hard. She began to stroke him slowly, learning the shape and length of him.

Both of them were breathing more deeply. Any remaining doubt left her. She withdrew her hand and whispered, “Sameer, let us get undressed properly.” He rolled away and, with a surprising shyness, turned his back while he removed his clothes. She quickly pushed off her own lower garments, already damp, and lay back watching him.

When he turned she saw him fully for the first time. His skin was a warm brown, smooth and clear. He was not as thin as she had thought; there was a quiet strength in the lines of his shoulders and arms. He had almost no chest hair, only a soft trail leading down. He was erect, slim but longer than she had expected for his height. He lay beside her and, for the first time, smiled, showing even white teeth. Then he surprised her by leaning in and pressing his mouth to hers while one hand returned firmly to her breast. She touched her tongue to his lips. After a moment he understood and opened for her. The kiss deepened. He had eaten something spiced earlier; the faint taste made her tongue tingle.

Without warning he broke the kiss and urged her onto her back. She opened her legs and he moved between them, but it was already too late. He spent himself against her lower belly and onto the sheet, gasping. He hung his head and said in a small voice, “Sorry, Aunty… I mean…”

She sat up, kissed his forehead lightly, and tried to sound lighter than she felt. “It’s all right. We have the whole afternoon. And call me Lakshmi, not Aunty.” She took a tissue from the bedside table, cleaned the sheet as best she could, knowing she would have to change it before Ramesh returned, and went to the bathroom. On the way back she brought a fresh roll of tissue. Sameer still looked ashamed. Controlling her own impatience, she drew him into her arms and they kissed again for a while.

She took one of his hands and guided it between her legs, then eased one of his fingers inside her. He held still for a moment, then began to move it carefully. She pressed against him and made a soft sound to show she liked it. He added a second finger. Before long several of his slim fingers were moving inside her in a slow, steady rhythm. After a few minutes she broke the kiss and fell back, breathing hard. Her nipples could not have grown any tighter. Sameer increased the pace and returned his mouth to her breast. Soon she was whispering urgently, “Yes… keep doing that… don’t stop…” A wave of heat rose through her. Her hips lifted from the bed and her body tightened hard around his fingers as the pleasure overtook her.

She sank back, skin damp, every nerve still humming. Sameer continued the gentle movement until she reached down and stopped him, pulling him up to kiss her again. She had not felt this good in a very long time, and a deep tenderness toward him filled her. She was aware of his renewed hardness against her thigh. Drawing back a little she asked, “Do you want to try again?” He nodded, still a little nervous. She kissed his cheek and said, “It’s all right. This time it will be fine.”

She lay back and opened her legs. This time Sameer did not simply lie on top of her. He tucked his knees under her hips, hands holding her, and entered her with a firm, steady thrust. She wrapped her legs around him. The angle gave him power, and he moved with long, strong strokes that soon had her making soft, helpless sounds. Already sensitive from the first climax, she reached a second peak quickly, crying out as the pleasure took her again.

Feeling her tighten around him, Sameer asked if she wanted him to stop. Floating on the sensation she murmured, “No… continue…” His earlier release had given him control. He lasted a long time. She came once more before he finally stiffened, gave a series of short gasps, and spent himself deep inside her with one last hard push, then settled back on his heels, dazed.

They lay together afterwards, kissing and holding each other while their breathing slowed, skin slick with sweat. Sameer sat up a little and looked down at her. “Lakshmi… was that all right? Really?”

She pulled him back down. “It was more than all right. You gave me something I had not felt in years.” He settled against her with a quiet, happy smile.

Later, as he prepared to leave, he asked, “Can I come again sometime?”

She smiled. “You can come as often as you want.”

He did not come every day, but they met three or four times a week after that. Every morning she still stood at the window for him, only now she looked straight across the lane while she did it. The second time he visited they explored each other with their mouths. She had always enjoyed that, but Ramesh had long since lost interest, so it had been years. Sameer’s slender length reached deep, and she liked the feel of him, the way his hands rested in her hair. The first time he put his mouth between her legs he was unsure, but she had not experienced it for more than thirty years and the sensation nearly undid her. He learned quickly. Soon he knew how to bring her close two or three times before finally letting her finish. His confidence as a lover grew steadily, and she found herself constantly ready for him. The slightest touch from him was enough to make her wet.

She did not know how they would continue once he left for university. Until then she intended to enjoy every private hour they could steal. The rest of the world could wait outside the closed curtains of the bedroom across the lane.