Lustful eyes peered through the partially closed mini blinds and watched Amy Middleton as she closed the bathroom door and went over to the bathtub to turn on the water. She was fully clothed, wearing a black skirt cut just above the knees, a black cardigan sweater and a white blouse buttoned all the way to the top. She bent down, rested a knee on the edge of the tub, and held her fingers under the running water. She turned the hot water knob a little further to the right until she was satisfied with the temperature, then stood up and began removing her sweater.
He observed Amy as she haphazardly flung the sweater onto the floor then turned and faced the mirror above the sink. As she watched herself in the mirror, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, seemingly distracted by the image of her face. His heart raced madly as she fumbled with a couple of buttons half way down before she finally unfastened the last one. She brought her hands up near her neck and laggardly removed the blouse, allowing it to rest on her shoulders for just a moment before finally taking it all the way off and flinging it into the corner along with her sweater. He could feel his pulse surge as he stared at her breasts, concealed for the moment by a flimsy sheer white bra. It was the kind with the little meshed holes strategically placed in just the right spots that left little to the imagination.
Amy continued staring at her reflection in the mirror and brought her small, delicate fingers to the front of the bra and unfastened it, exposing her milky white breasts. Her nipples were rosy-red and erect, the curves of her breasts round and firm. She brought each arm through the straps of the bra and pitched it into the growing pile of clothes in the corner.
His unblinking eyes stared intently as Amy slipped out of the skirt-the movement surprisingly swift and graceful. His gaze was locked onto her smooth, slender legs as she tossed the skirt onto the floor and pulled down her cottony white, nearly see-through panties.
The window began steaming up and the Observer silently cursed under his breath. Amy was still fairly visible as she leaned a little closer to the mirror for a better look at herself. He could hear his own breathing now-short, uneven gasps, as he stared at Amy’s luscious body from head to toe. What he wouldn’t give, he thought, to jump on top of her right this moment!
He felt the lump in his pants throb relentlessly as he strained his eyes to see through the droplets forming on the windowpane. Steam was everywhere now, a thick blanket of fog keeping him from eying his prey. He nearly screamed out loud in his frustration and for a brief moment felt the nearly uncontrollable urge to crash through the bathroom window and finish off what she had already started.
His foot suddenly slipped off the shrub he was standing on, causing the elastic-like branches to spring noisily against the side of the house. Instinctively, he glanced first through the window at Amy, who apparently hadn’t heard anything over the running water, then looked around the backyard. To his horror, he saw Amy’s mother peering out through the kitchen window. He stood there frozen in his awkward position for several moments, confident that she probably couldn’t see him even if she tried-the yard was pitch dark and he was only partially in her field of vision.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he saw Amy’s mother back away from the window. His eyes returned to the bathroom. All he could see now was the obscured form of Amy Middleton through a shroud of steam as she stepped into the tub, closed the shower curtain and disappeared completely from his sight.