I dream that the couple in the apartment opposite mine put on shows for me during lockdown. I can see them through the windows, lit brightly at night with the blinds open. The first night they make out so intensely and powerfully I can almost feel their mouths on my own skin, as I watch them from the chilly sanctuary of my balcony.
Though the lights are out and my own windows are dark, they can see me sitting across the street, watching and enjoying and wishing I could join them.
The next night, I turn my lights on. And seeing me sitting there watching them, they put on more of a show – he strips her slowly at the window, and they each lock eyes with me.
He licks her nipples and I touch my own, show them that I know what they are doing. When he touches her all over, I mirror their touches – hands squeezing breasts and thighs and bum, fingers dipping rapidly into wetness, using it to slick my own clit as he’s doing to her.
It goes on like this for many nights:
Performing for me, encouraging me, reminding me that beyond my four walls there are hot bodies entwined in lust.
Sometimes he presses her up against the balcony, bent at the hips, and he enters her slowly – so slowly that I find myself catching my breath and holding it until they increase the speed. I feel my own cunt twitch and ache with longing. Longing to be her, and to feel her. To sandwich myself between them and feel their warm limbs embracing me, squeezing me tight.
I can feel my skin tingle for that touch. But something about the way they are together – the way they perform for me – fulfils that yearning for now.
I fantasise about the postcards they will send me – dropped through the letterbox each morning, telling me in detail about the show they’ll perform tonight. Instructing me to appear on the balcony at 9:30pm precisely, wrapped in nothing but a blanket, ready to watch how they will fuck for me. At me.
I dream of this couple warming my nights with their passion. And as I touch myself on the dark balcony, wrapped in blankets from the cold, I long for the day when lockdown is over, and I get to feel his and her lips on my breasts, my stomach, my own skin. Touching and licking and caressing and consummating the lockdown lust that we’ve nurtured for so long.