Combing my hair at these hours that are so inappropriate for you... choosing casual clothes... my cotton panties and a lycra t-shirt... White clothes that are better distinguished in the dark. My terrace in the attic of my building, further below the terrace of your apartment. You look at me from a floor apart, a few meters from our buildings... But I feel as if your breath brushed my neck, as if your hands hugged my body, your cock pressed against my sex.

I feel your eyes so burning that I can think about taking off my shirt to let myself be warmed by them. My boyfriend sleeps inside... my legs still have the semen that dripped from my pussy after cumming inside. I smell like sex, I stink like sex... I lean against the wall of my terrace, my tits above the ledge. I light a cigarette and take a deep drag. The light from the hallway illuminates my back and my golden hair, it draws shadows on my thighs shaped by the bicycle, which you have seen me take out through the doorway so many times when you stalk me. I look at you…

You look back at me... Your terrace has a glass fence, and I see the exact moment in which you put your hand to your crotch, over your underwear. How you mark your erection by holding your cock between your fingers. You squeeze your cock. You strangle your cock…