THE FIRST PHONE CALL:

It started, remarkably enough, for Ruth Wilson with a phone call. It was still a bit early. She didn't have a shift -- Ruth was a nurse at the local medical center -- until that afternoon, beginning at 3 PM. She had gotten coffee and was sipping a cup of it, after her shower. She felt in a 'lounging' kind of mood today, and wasn't in a hurry particularly. At present she was dressed only in a pair of pink panties -- waist high, no fancy pants for Ruth, at least not for a long time -- and a matching lacy bra. She sipped her coffee, thinking about her day, when the phone rang.

"I'm watching you!" came a man's voice over the phone.

"What?" Ruth, said, almost explosively.

"I said, 'I'm watching you'," the voice said again.

"Who is this?" she demanded to know.

"Actually, I'm a neighbor," he said, "And I only began my call that way to get your attention."

(Ruth Wilson, still pretty at 51 years, was not a person to back off, when confronted by issues. That was one of the reasons why she was such a good nurse. She was equal to about any situation that came along. She was a widow, and was slowly working on getting over her Ray's death, some 11 months previously, when she'd nursed him through cancer.

She'd taken time, over the ensuing months to try to keep in shape and not let her life's tragedy tempt her into slovenliness or any kind of overindulgence that might be harmful. Though firmly in what might be considered or called 'middle age', Ruth was still a willowy kind of gal. She was tall, at 5'10", and kept her 125 lbs under control, at times with great effort. She did work out, and her form, 36d breasts, and a heart shaped butt, that was always her Ray's pride and joy, was still pleasing.)

But just then she was both challenged and kind of outraged.

"A neighbor making this kind of phone call?" she said, "I'm not sure why you aren't humiliated to admit this. How long have you been watching me?"

"Well," the voice said, "Only a day or two but I really thought that I should make a call and warn you that leaving your shades open was kind of providing 'showtime' for the neighbor kids."

"You must be kidding about this! Who is this?" she demanded.

"Kidding," he said, "No, I don't think so."

"Prove it!" she said.

"Okay," he said with a twinkle in his voice. "Right now you're wearing panties and a bra only. Color is pink."

"Easy enough guesses," she said, "How do I know that you mean it."

"Bra is lacy and not plain!" he said.

"Still not really convinced," she murmured.

Just then, she ran her finger through her short, dark brown hair.

"You just ran your fingers through your hair," he said next, "It's short and dark brown."

"Ohhhhh!" she said. "Are you using binoculars? Are you a peeking freak?" Her voice was challenging.

"No, not really a freak," he said. "I just happened to notice, when out in my garden; the angle into your bedroom from over here makes it easy to see right into your room, when the sun is out. And of course, in the evening, when you have the light on, it's ShowTime!"

"Stop your giggling and laughing!" she said, just barely suppressing a giggle herself.

(She didn't know why she wasn't totally outraged by this but she wasn't.)

"You're giggling there yourself," he said.

"Am not!" she said, in a petulant voice.

"Even your voice tells me that you got caught giggling," he said.

"Pervert!" she said.

"Maybe!" was his reply, "But I wanted you to know that at times, the local young kids, a few of the neighborhood boys, two I know of and one I suspect, are watching you also. They have a kind of binocular club, I hear."

(Between their houses, in that neighborhood, was a kind of overgrown, wild area of tress, and various shrubs.)

"Oh dear!" she said now, "Believing what he was saying."

"Thank you for mentioning that," she said.

"My pleasure," was his response.

"But if I take your information seriously," she went on, "I'll ruin all your fun!"

"Yes, I know, drat!" he said, and laughed.

She actually laughed too.

"You're fun to play with!" he said.

"Is that why you called?" she asked, "To play with me?"

"Well, no," he said, "It was mainly to be neighborly and let you know about the binocular club that meets locally."

"When?" she asked, "Do you know?"

"Well," he explained, "Mainly in the early evening, I guess when you've come back from work on a certain shift."

"Yes," she said, "I know which shift. I'll have to watch."

"Yes, you will!" he said.

"Who is this?" she demanded to know then.

"It's John Tennison," he said, "I live across from you."

"And you watch me!" she said, "And apparently the neighborhood."

"Now, don't be accusing me of things, when I'm being nice here!" he said.

"Nice?" she snorted, "Do you recall how you began this conversation?"

He laughed, "Yes," he said, "I wanted to be sure that I got you attention right away."

"Yes, you did that," she said, "And I almost hung up right away."

"I was depending on your curiosity," he said.

"So, you do watch things pretty much around here?" she asked.

"Well," he explained, "I am a writer and I write in my study, which is in the back of my house. It has a wall of glass looking out onto the wooded area, where, by the way, the binocular club meets, when the chance is there, and I can see the whole panorama of the neighborhood."

"Including me in my panties and bra!" she said.

"Well, that's the nice part of it lately, and you see, I am ruining for myself, as a friendly gesture," he said.

"Yes," she said, barely suppressing a laugh, "A friendly gesture."

"And I use the binoculars for watching birds," he said, "I am a bird enthusiast. You can see the feeders that I have and the amount of time I spend feeding."

"Yes, I'm sure that's what the binoculars are for!" she said, laughing then.

"Well, until now!" he said.

"Are you looking at me now?" she asked.

"Yes, you're waving your fingers at me!" he said.

She hooted.

"I'm putting the phone on speaker so that I can put some clothes on," she said then.

"Show's over for today?" he asked pleasantly.

"You are a handful, John Tennison!" she said.

"Why, thank you," he said, "And you are, forgive me for saying this if it is still too close to your husband's death, but you are beautiful!"

"Now I'm blushing!" she said.

"I know!" he said.

"Stop that!" she said into the phone and put a robe on.

"Drat!" was his next response.

"Serves you right!" she said, "You could have just kept quiet and enjoyed the fruits of your ill-gotten little scheme!"

"Yes," he said, "But then the binocular club would have still been functioning, and I don't want that for you. And I wouldn't have had the chance to tell you that I think you're beautiful!"

"Thank you," she said, and then, in a soft voice, "Especially, thank you for what you said."

"I don't want to be inappropriate here," he said.

She hooted again. "But isn't that the very basis for this phone call in the first place?"

He ended up laughing with her at that point.

"What do you write?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I write romance novels under the name Brenda Freefall," he said.

"Oh, I've seen those! Though I don't read that kind of literature," she said.

"Well, thank you at least for calling it literature!" he said with a laugh. "And that reminds me, my schedule calls for me to put in a couple of hours now to write."

"Well, thank you, I think," she said, "For the phone call."

"You're welcome!" he said.

Then she moved to the French doors that led from her bedroom to the balcony. She waved at him, and saw him wave back.

She'd gotten over the initial shock of what he'd said, when he first called and surprised herself with the feeling of having enjoyed their conversation. She also knew how much he had enjoyed shocking her with the call. She sensed that, and a thought ran across her mind.

"You wouldn't, Ruth Wilson!" she said.

"I would," she answered herself, and with him still watching, just having waved at her, she took off her robe, threw it over her shoulder and, in her panties and bra, walked out of the room.

"Take that!" she said.

Then the phone rang.

"I knew it!" she said to herself.

"Thank you!" he said into the phone, "Beautiful, like I said!" Then he simply hung up.

"Okay, coffee, and thinking time, Ruth," she said.

WORKING IT THROUGH:

That afternoon, after getting everything under control on the nursing floor where she worked, Ruth sat down, in the nurses lounge area, with her pal Judy Woods. She and Judy were 'besties'. They gone to school together since the early grade school grade and had done their nurses training together. In fact, Judy had been Ruth's main support during those terrible times, especially nights, after Ray had finally succumbed to the cancer. That was never far from Ruth's mind and was an integral part of their relationship.

"Wait 'til I tell you what happened today!" Ruth said.

"Oh, something exciting?" Judy asked. "You need something exciting in your life, Ruth!"

"Exciting, I guess!" Ruth said.

She went on then to explain the phone call, how it had started, the message about the local 'binocular club' and the way the rest of the conversation had gone.

"Wow!" Judy said, "Spectacular! And good information to have."

Judy got a pixyish look on her face and, before she could go on, Ruth put her hand up and said: "Judy Woods, don't you dare!"

They were both giggling then.

Judy did go on: "You should maybe make an appointment with him to show your stuff late at night, when the kids would be in or at home."

They were both giggling then, and Ruth did admit to Judy then that she had taken her robe off, after they'd hung up the phones.

Judy shrieked with laughter! "Ruth, you slut!"

(It was a constant and usual charge that they'd made about each other through the years. It left them giggling together.)

"Seemed appropriate at the time!" Ruth said.

"I guess!" was Judy's answer. "Got him going too I bet!"

"This old cow?" Ruth said.

"Bullshit!" Judy said in a soft voice, "Ruth Wilson you still have the bones!"

They giggled again.

"Okay but who was it?" Judy asked.

"My neighbor, John Tennison," she said.

"Hey, I know him," Judy said, "He goes to the same church that Walt and I attend; he's really good looking. Isn't he some kind of writer?"

"So he says," Ruth said. "Romance novels."

"Really?" Judy said, "I read those all the time."

"Do you know of a Brenda Freefall?" Ruth asked.

"He's Brenda Freefall?" Judy fairly thundered.

"She, he's so popular; good, sexy stuff! The kind that you can get your teeth in! Wow! Brenda Freefall! Who would have thought?"

Then Judy changed the subject: "But what are you going to do?"

"Going to do?" Ruth asked. "Don't know."

"But it was a kind of a challenge; you need to do something! Don't you think?" Judy continued. "Let's conspire just a bit. What do you know about him?"

"Almost nothing, except what he said to me on the phone," Ruth replied.

"Find out something!" Judy said, and they agreed on that strategy.

THE PLAN:

It took about a week but, in the end, Ruth did find out something that a plan could be based on. She noticed, clandestinely, that John did have a workout room. It was in the lower part of his house, beneath his 'study/writing room'.

She talked to Judy about it and they put the plan into action. They were all giggles at the prospect of it.

It was an evening and Ruth had come home, showered, and had her dinner, when she went to the curtained windows of her bedroom. She opened them just a bit and saw that the lights were on in his workout room. She took the binoculars, that she and Judy had shopped for, and used them, for the first time. She could see him as plain as day. He wore a tee shirt and a pair of workout shorts.

She grabbed the phone and called him.

"Hello," he said, with her watching him through the binoculars.

"I'm watching you!" she said but couldn't keep from giggling.

"You terrible woman!" he said.

Then he looked up and saw her standing at the door, just inside her French doors. As he watched, she held up her binoculars and waved at him. He waved back.

"Turnabout and fair play!" she said.

"Yes, but I'm dressed!" he said back.

"Not entirely!" she said. "You look good in your workouts."

"Thank you!" he said, "Welcome to the neighborhood peeking corps!"

She giggled then.

"By the way," he told her then. "I sent an anonymous note to the parents of the club members. I think the club has been done in!"

"Good," she said, "Maybe I can start leaving my drapes open again."

"Yes, for bigger and better fans!" he said to her.

"Is that what you are?" she asked. "A bigger and better fan?"

"Yep!" he said. "Got it in one!"

"Okay," she said, "I'm putting the binoculars down for now and am going to watch some TV. Nice looking at you!"

"Brazen!" he said.

"Yep!" she said, Mimicking his voice tone. "Got it in one!"

A VISIT:

She hung up then and did settle down to some TV watching. She had a movie that she wanted to watch. In the midst of the movie, the doorbell rang.

She went to answer it and was surprised to see John Tennison standing there. He smiled at her, through the window by her door, where she was looking out and held up a bottle of wine that he was carrying and two glasses. She smiled, then laughed and shook her head 'yes', as she opened the door.

"Meeting of the peekers' society?" she asked, as he come in.

"Yep!" he said.

"John!" she said pleasantly, extending a hand to shake his, but thinking better of it then, simply pulled him into a hug.

"Took the opportunity to bring a little wine, if you don't mind," he said.

"Lovely, come in," she said. "It is nice to finally meet you, John." She giggled then and said: "I mean after seeing each other from a far."

"Yes," he said, "We did that."

"But you weren't wearing racy clothes during the viewing," she said.

"You noticed!" he said.

She led him into the house to the family room, where they settled down. She got the opener for the bottle of wine and brought it to him. He opened the wine and poured wine for each of them.

"I need to say, right at the beginning," he said. "I was a friend of Ray's; we knew each other from some committees and all. If it is indiscreet for me to be here; if not enough time has passed for you, please say so, and I will simply leave. Please be honest."

She discovered that she was pleased with what he'd said. "Thank you for that," she responded. "I loved my Ray with a wideness and depth that still is part of my mind. I don't think that he'd want me in black clothes and widow's weeds forever. Your question is pleasing and I thank you again for it, but I need to me be now, me again. Ray will always be there with me and for me. That won't change."

"It shouldn't!" he said, and handed her a handkerchief for her tears.

"Oh," he said, "I didn't come here to make you cry!"

"It's better now," she said, "I spent months and months doing almost nothing else. You'd think that I, more than others, since I'm a nurse, would have been ready, when I saw that lovely man wasting away before my eyes! But I wasn't, really wasn't ready for the finality of it, and his going from me, just going from me."

She hesitated and said: "I'm sorry, I'm not going to turn this into a weeping session! Especially, since I'm finally face to face with the neighborhood peeker himself."

She braved a smile, when she came to the end of that sentence. She wiped her eyes then and he held her hand for just a moment. She appreciated that and nodded to him to show it.

"Well," he said, lifting his wine glass, "Here's to Ray!"

"Yes," she answered, clinking her glass against his, "Here's to Ray, my love."

"Thank you for coming over and bringing the wine," she said next.

"Felt I at least owed you that," he answered, "After the way that I began that first phone call.

She giggled then. "Yep! I remember that alright. Bet you do too!"

"You kidding," he said with a twinkle in his eye. He hesitated then but she said:

"Okay, say it or you'll destroy yourself."

He laughed: "Especially with the way you were dressed!"

She hooted.

"Binoculars were new and I had great luck at almost the very first chance I had to use them," he said, grinning.

"Good for you!" she said, "Hope you enjoyed it!"

"I was fairly overwhelmed!" he said. "I simply have to repeat what I said then: you are beautiful! Sorry, if I'm making you nervous with that kind of talk."

"No, I'm basking in it!" she said, grinning.

"A handful!" he said, shaking his head and taking a sip of wine.

"The way I'm known at the hospital!" she said, raising her glass to him. "But tell me, Brenda, about your books? Romances? Bodice Rippers? Sexy? Dirty?"

"Hmm," he said, "I see you read and recognize a broad range of literature yourself."

"Yes," she said, "We nurses try to be in touch with life, all of its sides."

"Brilliant!" he said.

"By the way, speaking of nurses; it might be a treat for me to spy on you some time getting out of your nurses uniform."

She laughed: "But you just made a gesture that would insure that such shows stop happening in the future. Remember?"

"Oh, drat! That's right!" he said, "How clumsy of me!"

"Rather!" she said. "But come, Brenda, you're avoiding the question about your books."

"Well," he began, "They've become, I'm happy to say, fabulously popular. It's really, in a way, like formula writing. I have various kinds of elements and from those elements I craft a story, making sure that the romance is prominent and that the sex is realistic. It's what my readers like."

"Well, I normally read British novels and mysteries," she said.

"We'll have to try to convert you," he went on, "I can make sure that you get some copies of what I write, so that you can see for yourself."

"I might like that," she said, taking a sip of wine.

She gave him a serious look and said: "Doesn't it strike you that our ages make any kind of relationship kind of silly?"

"Relationship," he said, fencing with her, "Is that what we're after here?"

"Well, I don't know," she said.

"It's what I have had in mind!" he said softly.

"Then the ages?" she asked. "I am too old to be made a fool of, and am not in the mood to become someone's dirty joke."

The look on his face immediately made her back-pedal.

"I'm sorry that I said that," she said, "It was uncalled for; it's just that the age thing does make me nervous, and I find myself enjoying our getting together all too much today."

He spoke to her seriously then: "I guess that I should, after all, apologize for how I came in contact with you. It was almost a desperation thing. I've seen you now and then and have had a desire to get to know you. I mean, I never would have, while Ray was alive but now ... it's different."

She nodded, not wanting to interrupt him.

"I am not myopic at all, Ruth, I know what our ages are. I'm a ripe 37 and I know you're older but I don't see that as an issue that matters. There is no sense involved here at all of making you one of my 'conquests', a dirty joke or certainly a fool. None at all," he said.

"I had to ask that," she said, "Had to mention it."

"I know," he said, "I would have in your position."

He said then, brightly: "Now, if you give me your e-mail address, I can send you dirty pictures now and then!"

She put her hand over her mouth and laughed. They did exchange their addresses then.

"So, what, if anything, is next?" she asked, after the e-mail address exchange.

"I guess we take time to think and plan," he said.

"Yes, think and plan! And thank you for the wine," she concluded.

"Do I get a kiss?" he asked.

"No, you don't!" she said.

"Drat!" he said.

"You've already said that several times," she said, smiling.

"Show' my desperation," he said.

At the door, she asked: "But what if your plan had backfired?"

"Truth?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she responded.

"I would have sold the house and moved!" he said, being absolutely serious.

She put a hand over her mouth to contain her surprise. She knew he was telling the truth. Then she grabbed him by the shoulders, before he left and said: "No kiss but you do get a hug!"

"Good for me! Progress!" he said.

"Good for both of us!" were her words, as she held on to him.

(His sense of her, the physicalness of her was confirmed by the hug. She felt marvelous, a combination of softness and delightful firmness. He had to move away before his telltale growing erection caused a problem.)

Just as he was going down the steps with his glasses, she said: "I felt that!"

He turned and blushed, turned a bright red.

"Oh, I'm so far out of my league here!" he said.

"Keep on pitching, soldier! Good night, Brenda!" she said to his retreating back. He waved at her and was gone.

NEXT PHASE:

Judy was intent to hear how their plan had worked out. She and Ruth took time, during a break time at the hospital to review it. They were in the midst of giggles right away.

"Sounds like you really made progress!" Judy said.

"Hope I'm not making a fool of myself!" Ruth said.

"Hey," Judy answered, "If you get a lovely affair with a younger man, what's the harm in that?"

"Hmmm, maybe!" Ruth said, "I'll have to think about it."

"Do you take him at his word?" Judy asked.

"You know, I do," Ruth said, "I think that I can trust what he said."

"Good," Judy said enthusiastically, "Then let's plan something; a next step, a next phase."

They made new plans and ended up giggling about what they had in mind next for Brenda Freefall.

The next phase of the plan was put into motion that following Friday night. She sent him an e-mail message:

'Earth to Brenda Freefall!"

She waited for a few moments and received an answer:

"Brenda Freefall here and all ears!"

"That sounds painful!" was her next message.

"Well, then I'm listening, Ms Smartbutt!"

"So nice spoken!" she sent.

"Yes?" he said next.

"The curtains are about to open on the unveiling of a nurse! Don't miss the show, Brenda!"

"You're shitting me!" he sent back.

"Try me! Going to the theater now!" she sent and signed off.

John raced upstairs and grabbed his binoculars. The phone range.

"Are you attending, Brenda?" she asked softly.

"I'm as hard as a maple tree!" he said.

"Oops! No playing until the show starts or your out of the theater!" she said.

"La Belle Dame Sans Merci!" he groaned.

"Oui!" she said. "Now watch!"

"All eyes!" he said.

"I doubt that!" she responded, before hanging up the phone, "I felt that thing stirring during the hug!"

"Thought I was being covert!" he said.

"Not hardly!" she replied, "Hanging up now; ShowTime!"

He watched intently, standing back in the recesses of his darkened room, and then the curtains on the large French doors of her bedroom did indeed open. She walked back into the room but from the incoming light, could be seen in the back of the room from where he was standing. The vantage point was such that, due to the makeup of the neighborhood, it was only from his house that she could be seen.

His phone rang.

"Attending?" she asked him.

"Definitely!" he said.

"Hard?" she asked.

"Astoundingly!" he said.

"Stay on the phone and talk to me now and then!" she said.

"Why are we doing this, this way?" he asked then.

"I rather thought that it was your form of foreplay!" she said.

"Yes, yes, it was I that started this!" he said, "But I didn't realize that I'd be challenged and out of my league so quickly."

She laughed and said: "Not dealing with amateurs here, are we?"

"No, not at all!" he said.

"Watching now?" she asked. "I'm putting the phone down and putting it on speaker. Don't you play with yourself until I'm done here; it's quid pro quo, and I get to watch that."

"But no kiss?" he said incredulously.

"Everything good comes to he who waits!" she said then, but he saw that as she said it, she was unzipping the smock of her nurse's uniform.

"Oh, damn," he groaned, "There you go!"

"Watching the old woman?" she asked with a giggle.

"Watching the goddess!" he said, "And I mean every word!"

"Right answer, Brenda!" she said, opening the smock now.

He stared at her through the binoculars that he was using. She waved at him and gave him a happy kind of smile and now she was showing her stomach, and lacy bra.

"Little test here, love, to see if you can really get a bead on me; what is the color of my bra?" she asked.

"It's ... it's a light, almost baby blue," he said.

"Right as rain!" she said. "You get to advance to the next stage."

Then she took the smock off and folded it onto the bed. Turning to him then, and opening her arms wide, she went on: "Do you want to stare at my breasts and bra first a bit? Take in the woman in her underwear?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "That ... would be nice. Damn, you've got me stuttering."

"Remember, honey," she said, "That I didn't start this!"

"Nor did I think that anything this exciting would occur!" he said.

"Tell me, tell me now, why is it exciting?" she asked. "Is it because you're living out every man's fantasy to watch a woman undress? Answer that and we go to the next stage, lover."

"Is that what I am?" he asked, his breathing obviously getting difficult.

"It's what you're going to be, I'll tell you that!" she said, "Kisses and all to come! The question?"

"You've got me so rattled," he said.

"Good, Brenda, I intend to keep you that way. You've got the tigress by the tail! Now watch!" Then she removed her bra and set it aside, shaking her shoulders for him to set her breasts in motion a bit.

"Oohh!" he moaned, and only got back to a conversation with great difficulty.

"But the question," he went on, "It's exciting because it's you! Plain and simple, not because it's the event, a chance to clandestinely watch a gorgeous woman undress in her own home, suspecting privacy and having none!"

"Oh, right answer," she said, "You watch now."

"Eyes straining!" he said.

"Goodie!" she quipped and sat to take off the trainers that she wore at work. Then she stood and hooked her thumbs inside the stretch waistband of her white uniform pants.

"Ohhhh!" he groaned.

"Love your conversation, Brenda!" she said.

"Love it when you call me that!" he said. "Makes this whole thing so personal!"

"Goodie!" she said again, and then: "Pants down now! How many times have you wanted to tell a woman to take her pants down?"

"Yes, yes!" he said, "That's it, that's it right now: Take your pants down! Brenda is asking you to please take your pants down! Do I need to order you to do it? Make it a demand?"

"You're doing fine, Brenda;" she said. "What do I get, if I do it?" she asked.

"Everything that I have!" he said. "Please!"

"Of course, love; here they go!" she said next and proceeded to push her uniform pants down. She did it slowly, as he stared and made groaning sounds. She inched the white, uniform pants down, showing first the matching panties, light blue with little clouds of lace at the leg bands.

"Beautiful!" he groaned.

"Wait 'til you see them in person!" she said, inching them further down, now showing her panties all the way to the middle of her stomach.

"Yes, in person," he said softly.

"How you bearing up, Brenda?" she asked.

"Up, hard, throbbing!" he answered.

"Hmmm, this plan is successful right now," she said, as her uniform pants slipped just past the bottom of her panties.

"Can you see the hair, Brenda?" she asked softly, "Pressing against the blue nylon fabric? Can you?"

"Yes, yes," he said. "Glad you're not shaved!"

"Why? Tell me and we make more progress!" she demanded.

"Yes, tell you!" he moaned. "Don't know why lovely women insist on looking like little, pre-pubescent girls! Not looking for that at all!"

"What are you looking for?" she asked, intently.

"You! Lovely you! You stripping! You putting on this show! You, just you!" he said.

"Love your turn of phrase!" she responded, "And now I'll do what you pleaded for, taking my pants down!" As she said this, she pushed the uniform pants down and stepped out of them. Now she was reduced to white thigh highs and her blue panties.