She walked into the room with a sensual grace, her curved hips swaying. All feminine. Wasn’t in a rush. Her tits sat high on her chest, their fullness complementary to her hips. 

Her hands freed her hair from its ponytail. She shook it out, continuing to mess with the long locks when he strode into the room. 

He quickly reached her, took hold of her arm, and leaned in. She jerked her head to the side. He tried again. This time, he held her chin, and his lips touched hers. They looked awkward for a minute, like two statues with noses bumped and lips stuck together. She backed away. He said something, then her head fell back, and her gorgeous body shook with laughter. He laughed, too, and she stepped back into him, tilting her head for a kiss. Then they kissed like they both wanted it this time. Hands roamed, bodies fit when mashed together. 

He pulled back first and turned her to face the window. He took each of her hands and slapped them against the sheer curtains covering the glass. She moved her hands, and her tits shook as she laughed again. He shook his head and moved them back. She was playful. Maybe she liked making him work for it.

He circled an arm around her waist. His other hand was out of sight. Her body shifted. He was inside, and soon fucking her hard enough to make her scrunch the curtain fabric into balls. His hand moved up to clutch her throat. She didn’t move it. 

Just their silhouettes moved behind the sheers. Naked outlines grinding. Rutting. Any identifying details were hidden from the world outside. Anyone out late would see they were fucking. They’d keep walking. I didn’t.

But I didn’t stay long that first time. Then I got curious. It’s normal to be curious. The next night and every night after, I stayed until their naked bodies pulled apart.

You know, there are always grey areas in life. Watching felt like one of them, even though they knew people could see. I teetered between feeling guilty and entitled. Entitled was easier to swallow.

Their names were easy enough to get. Just opened the mailbox. Stella and Chuck. Funny how some people’s names seem so randomly given, and others, well, just fit. 

For me, Stella’s a star’s name. The name I’d whisper in the dark. Moan when I cum. Stella. 

Then, there’s Chuck. “Fuck you, Chuck,” so easily slides off my tongue, out my mouth, with spit landing on his cheek. Or how about “ground Chuck?” I shouldn’t have said that. 

The next night, he pushed on her shoulders until she dropped to her knees. I saw his cock for the first time. Not bad. Mine was bigger. 

He fed her. It didn’t take long before his hands gripped both sides of her head. She pushed back on his stomach, breaking free before he came. So he sprayed her tits. 

Oh, Stella. It should be me you’re sucking. 

You’d become addicted at the first drop on your tongue. I’d fill your mouth with my girth. You’d have trouble breathing with my cock down your throat, but you know I’d make sure you lived through it. You’d beg to swallow my cum. Know that I’d never waste a drop anywhere but inside of you. Down your throat. In your pussy. Or ass. Would I hear your playful laugh when I suggested that last one? But then you’d let me fuck your ass, wouldn’t you?  

They moved away from the window, and I released my cock, sucking in air between my teeth until the urge to cum passed. I was saving every drop for her. My Stella. She’d like that. She’d like lots of things I’d do.

I began lingering at night. I wanted to know more. What color was her hair? Hard to tell with silhouettes. So, I waited until one night she left their apartment. She was a brunette. She felt safe walking to a late-night coffee shop, never once looking behind her. People missed things around them when they felt safe.

I was right in guessing she was young. Not too young, though. I knew better. 

She was in good shape. Toned calves. And yeah, her ass was a pleasure to follow. Plump enough to make a man want to slide his belt off and see how it moved when struck. 

My voice inside was becoming less grey. Now it said, She’s not afraid, so I must not be doing anything wrong. 

So, I continued to watch. Hate came easily toward Chuck. Big dumb ape. She handled the mail. Brought them coffee. He didn’t deserve her sweet laughter. Ignored her delicious tits. Only interested in her pussy. Just fucked her. 

The next night, she stared straight out the window in my direction while he fucked her, not once looking over her shoulder at him. She must have known I was watching and liked it.

I see you, baby. 

She wanted my cock instead of his. I’d have her facing me. Always. Let her watch me suck her nipples. I’d maybe bury my face between her tits and shake my head, making noise. I bet she’d laugh. Then beg me to fuck her. I’d raise her leg and wrap it around my waist with us turned sideways so anyone watching would see how hard I fucked her. See the way she watched my face change when I came.

Anyone watching would see how much she adored me. And be jealous. She’d never want to face the window with me out of the picture behind her. 

And just like that, there was no more grey, just black and white. I was sure she wanted me to want her. Needed me. Why else would she face me out the window all those nights? I was right to watch. 

It wasn’t long after, and Chuck was out of my way. I knew before Stella. When she discovered his body, she needed a shoulder to cry on. Lucky for her, I was nearby. 

First conversation, and I said something funny, clever even. She cried harder. Too soon for her to laugh, idiot. 

And so, I became the endless box of tissues for her tears. Patiently took her on walks in the park when I hated parks in the daylight. I remained that sympathetic ear while she mourned Chuck. 

I’d bring her coffee. She’d talk about Chuck. 

I even pretended to like her cat. It always hissed at me. She’d said that wasn’t like him. Maybe he was ill. I joked about putting it out of its misery. Then, she cried about how much that fucking cat must miss Chuck. Her nose ran when she cried. Disgusting. 

It became exhausting—her whining. She should have been over him by now. 

Fuck Chuck! 

I had earned her laughter and more, but didn’t get it. 

There was no more grey, but a funny thing about living in the black and white, you can flip sides awful quick. 

I came to realize that Stella—my star—looked better from afar. 

All that time I put into her, and she’d have to go.