She's shocked and surprised

For a heartbeat, the world froze. Her eyes, wide and shocked, locked onto mine through the glass. I saw the dawning realization, the invasion of her privacy hitting her like a physical blow. My hand froze on my cock, my entire body paralyzed by a wave of pure, undiluted panic. I was busted. Completely and utterly busted. My stomach dropped, and I braced for the scream, for the curtains to be yanked shut, for her husband to come storming out of his house and beat me to a pulp on my own lawn.

But the scream never came.

The shock in Chloe's expression melted away, replaced by a deep, burning blush that crept down her neck and across her chest. She looked down, as if only just realizing she was standing there, completely naked. Her arms, flinching, moved to cover herself, one across her breasts, the other darting down to hide the triangle of blonde hair between her legs. It was an instinctive, modest gesture, and for a second, I thought it was over. I was just the creep next door.

But then something shifted. Something I couldn't read. Her hands didn't clamp shut in a shield of anger. Instead, they seemed to... rest there. Her eyes lifted from the floor and found mine again. The embarrassment was still there, but it was mingled with something else. A curiosity. A flicker of what looked like... power. She saw me, naked and hard in my bathroom, and she knew. She knew exactly what I was doing and why.

My own embarrassment was a roaring in my ears, my face hot enough to fry an egg. I should have jumped back. I should have covered myself, turned away, fallen to my knees and begged for forgiveness. But I couldn't move. I was mesmerized by the transformation happening across that small stretch of grass.

Her hands began to move again, slowly, almost experimentally. The one arm across her chest lowered just a fraction, revealing the soft swell of her breast. The other hand, which had been hiding her most intimate place, drifted down her thigh. She was no longer just covering herself; she was posing. She was testing.

She was giving me one last, long look.

Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes, God, her eyes held a complex mixture of shyness and a wicked, teasing light. It was a challenge. It was an invitation. It was everything I had fantasized about and a thousand times more.

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement that made my heart hammer against my ribs, she turned and walked out of my line of sight. She didn't slam the window shut. She didn't pull the curtains closed in a fit of rage. She simply... left.

I stood there, frozen, my cock still hard in my hand, my mind a complete blank. The sound of my own breathing was loud in the small bathroom. Shock gave way to a dizzying relief, which was immediately swallowed by a new, more intense wave of arousal. She hadn't been disgusted. She hadn't been angry. She had been... intrigued. A slow grin spread across my face as I finally backed away from the window, my earlier mortification replaced by a thrilling, terrifying certainty. Moving to this neighborhood was going to be more interesting than I ever could have imagined.