PART ONE :The Woman Behind the Curtain

Part 1: The Beginning

I never planned to fall into temptation. But somehow, every night at exactly 9:00 PM, she invited me without saying a word.

She moved into flat 2B three months ago. A quiet woman in public, barely said more than a nod when we crossed paths. But at night? She transformed into something wild… untamed.

Her curtains were always wide open. Her lights warm and soft—almost like she wanted to be seen. And I saw her. Every damn evening, I saw everything.

It started with innocent glimpses: a shoulder slipping from her towel, the arch of her back as she bent to pick something from the floor. Then, it grew bolder.

She would strip completely—slowly, like she was performing for an audience she couldn’t see. But I was there. Always there. My room dark, my blinds cracked just enough. And every movement she made burned into my memory like sin etched in fire.

She didn’t rush. She’d unclip her bra, letting her breasts fall freely, cupping them in her hands and rubbing lotion like it was foreplay. Her nipples were always hard—dark, erect, teasing. Then she’d slide her panties down her thighs, exposing the thick, black curls between her legs… never shaved, always wild. Raw. Animalistic.

I watched her moisturize every inch of herself. Rubbing cream into her inner thighs. Her belly. Her ass cheeks, jiggling with each motion. She’d bend forward—her ass tilted up, legs spread just enough to reveal that juicy vee in full glory. She had no shame. Or maybe… she knew I was watching.

My cock would grow hard before she even got naked. I didn’t even have to touch myself some nights. Just watching her was enough to make me erupt. But I never stopped watching. I needed her. I needed that nightly dose of wicked pleasure.

But last night… everything changed.