The house one street over was having dorms built on top and the workmen constructing the roof had a clear view through my bedroom window. I had been feeling a little frisky for the past few days so decided to have some fun, before leaving for college that morning I made sure the curtains were open and the window ajar so they could see me and I could hear them.
This was probably not the best idea as I spent the whole day distracted pondering what to do that afternoon… take a shower and wander around in a towel? Change clothes while they watched the mirror? How much I should show? All the time becoming more anxious and wondering if I would chicken out.
During my last lesson I decided on a little striptease as part of a simple game, throw the ball against the ceiling with one hand then catch it with the other. If I dropped the ball then an item of clothing would be removed. This worked on several levels since the brightly coloured ball would help to attract their attention and I could control how far I wanted to go.
As I headed home my heart was already pounding in my chest and when it came to walking up the stairs to my room the strength in my legs seemed to evaporate. Pushing through these barriers I entered the room but initially could not make myself go through with it, standing frozen by the door (thankfully obscured from the window). Trying to talk myself round I reached into the wardrobe and removed a jumper and a tracksuit top to put over my T-Shirt and jeans, since this would mean it took longer before it got to a point where it really mattered.
This done I walked into the bathroom and focused on the mirror until I had brought my breathing back under control, the anxiety almost agony, it took a few minutes to calm down enough to casually walk into my room, turn on a little music and lie on my bed facing the window. The way things were I knew they would be able to see me but I would only be able to see them by either sitting up or looking in my mirror.
So once the next track started I began throwing the ball in the air from one hand to the other always touching the ceiling, as a practiced juggler catching the ball was a very easy task even lying flat on the bed with all the power coming from the wrist. The hard part was making sure that when I ‘missed’ the ball it landed near my hand or on the bed where it could easily be reached, since if I sat up there would be no denying I had seen them.
It was almost at the end of the first track before I let the ball land next to my leg rather than in my hand, during this time the ball had done its job and occasionally some of the builders were looking over as they worked. I could feel the heat in my cheeks already but holding my breath slowly unzipped the jacket and slid it off my shoulders before dropping it onto the floor. It seemed an odd reaction since I was wearing far more than I usually would, but the anticipation made everything seem far more intense.
The next ball fell rather sooner and the jumper was next to go, a little awkwardly but pulling it over my head gave a chance to sit up slightly and view the silhouettes of the men on the roof it was clear that at least one of them had an inkling of what I was doing and had decided to take a cigarette break clearly facing away from the window but in a way that would allow him to gaze through occasionally.
The game continued and it took another two tracks before my trainers had been forcibly kicked off, thankfully I had not tied the laces too tightly or the game may have had to end there… if the DM’s had been worn that day there would have been no chance. It became more interesting at this point as any item of clothing removed now would reveal flesh and remove any doubts about my intent. The ball fell midway through the next track and for the first time it was not on purpose, the tension was making even this simple toss and catch game increasingly difficult.
Since I was wearing no jewellery my choices were my t-shirt, jeans or socks… so reaching down I undid my belt and struggled with the tight button using both hands, I heard one of the builders call out to his colleague to give him a hand with something. Watching in the mirror I saw the pantomime between them where he indicated what I was doing, they then picked up a joist and spent a long time manoeuvring it into place while looking.
Pulling my knees into my chest I slipped the jeans off and added them to the pile on the floor then keeping my knees bent and apart placed my feet back on the bed. At this point they had all but given up the pretence of working, as the next track started I took a deep breath then started passing the ball from hand to hand focusing on its movement and trying not to be distracted by the burning in my cheeks and the tingling everywhere else. As the track ended I held my breath for a moment and let the ball drop, the builders had not looked away from the window the whole time… without releasing I pulled the t-shirt over my head and threw it to the floor.
I lay there on the bed for a with the ball in my left hand and my right resting lightly on top of my pants, almost paralyzed with fear. It took a while but gradually my nerve returned and my heart-rate slowed so I started to pass the ball again from one hand to the other each catch preceded with a sharp intake of breath, after what seemed like hours (though no more than minutes)I finally missed a catch the ball landing on my stomach and rolling onto the bed as I breathed out.
Stretching out my legs I hooked the big toe of my right foot under the hem of the left sock and slowly slipped it off and dropped it over the end of the bed. Then with legs outstretched letting my thighs press tightly together began the game again. This time the ball lasted no more than three catches before it fell, closing my eyes I repeated the same manoeuvre to remove the other sock.
Again lying there unmoving as the sun kissed my skin I controlled my breath, glad of having worn dark underwear as my pants were quite damp by this point. Not sure how much further I could or would take it I picked up the ball again and began passing it from hand to hand, this time I fumbled the ball badly and it rolled off the bed and over to the other side of the room. This meant that I would have to get off the bed to continue the game but before that there was an item of clothing to be removed.
Arching my back slightly I reached behind and undid the clips on my bra, then closing my eyes again sat up letting the straps fall off my shoulders holding the cups in place with one hand. On opening my eyes I looked right at my audience and the fear took over, I believe the appropriate phrase would be something along the lines of a deer in the headlights. They were looking on mouths open as I just sat there stunned still holding my bra in place, and while I thought my cheeks were burning before they were now positively on fire and my body felt as though covered in static.
When I regained control I dove off the bed letting the bra fall as I dashed in front of the wardrobe and out of sight of the window. Standing almost naked with my back against the wardrobe I could hear the two men laughing, with the wardrobe the only thing keeping me upright I slid a hand down the front of my pants seeking some relief from the tension… it was only when the laughing stopped suddenly I realised they had moved a little down the roof and were watching me through the mirror I had used to observe them. I wanted to stop but the tension was so great and I needed release so badly I continued, reaching orgasm in seconds and collapsing to the floor physically and emotionally drained.
After taking a minute to recover I placed one arm over my breasts then sidled along the wall towards the curtains as though unaware the builders could still see me and slowly closed them. Once the curtains were closed I looked into the mirror, I was soaked from head to toe in sweat as though I had just ran a marathon. Slipping my pants off I stood there for a while letting the breeze from the window wash over my body cooling and calming me down.
Once I felt in control again I grabbed a towel from the wardrobe and walked out of my room still naked into the bathroom across the landing to shower, spending more time sat on the edge of the bath than in the shower itself. When I started I had no idea how far I would go and I certainly had not intended to masturbate in front of them, it would be a very long time before I would ever do something like that again.
The curtains remained closed until the builders were finished and I found myself leaving early for college and coming home late since I was too embarrassed to let them see me. I’m sure it took a week longer than necessary for them to complete the dorm as whenever I was at home and peeked out of the curtains at least one of the builders was always watching and waiting for a repeat performance.
When they finally left I now had a new audience who would be able to see me from the waist up should I walk near the windows, but that story is for another time.
Notes for Americans: In the UK a trainer is a sports shoe which you often call sneakers, DM’s are Doc Martens a very sturdy hardwearing practical boot that reaches about half way up your shins. Very popular with students and those who care enough about their feet not to wear anything as stupid as high heels.