From my neighbor's balcony, I watched as a burly guy, probably in his early thirties, jogged on his treadmill. His wife had run off with some rich old man six months ago. Since then, he seemed to hold a grudge against every woman he met. His eyes were always narrowed, his jaw clenched, as if he wanted to devour us whole. Every attractive woman in our apartment complex was scared of him. But not me. I’m a freshman dance student, fresh out of high school. I’m light on my feet, flexible, and naturally graceful. And I’ve been a head-turner my whole life. From elementary school to middle school, I was always the most popular girl, the "it" girl. Now in college, I’m seen as this unattainable goddess. But what no one knows is that my "unattainable" image is just a facade. Outside of school, privately, I have a side that no one could ever guess. My neighbor, Dave, stands over six feet tall, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, with a healthy, tanned complexion. Every morning, he’s out on his balcony, working out on his treadmill. He only ever wears a pair of short athletic shorts. And almost every morning, I’m out on my balcony too, ostensibly practicing my dance moves. But really, it’s just an excuse to showcase my eighteen-year-old freshman self – my youth, my sensuality, my supple grace – for him. I wonder if he knew my parents had gone away on vacation, leaving me home alone. Because today, he was up much earlier than usual. The first thing he did, as always, was hit the treadmill on his balcony. Maybe it was because he didn’t see me right away, but he started making intentional noises, even faking a few coughs. Clearly, he was trying to get my attention, to let me know he was exercising and that I should join him on the balcony for my "practice." I chuckled to myself, finding it amusing. Then, I flipped out of bed, eager to head out to the balcony. With my parents away, I felt even bolder. I chose something particularly daring and form-fitting. My tall, slender figure was accentuated, curves in all the right places. My long neck, my delicate arms, and a pair of legs as smooth as ivory were all on full display. Once on the balcony, I played coy. Even though I was doing this all for him, I deliberately turned my back. Yet, from the corner of my eye, I snuck glances at him. I was both surprised and thrilled to see that today, he too had become unexpectedly bolder. He wasn’t wearing his usual shorts. He was wearing nothing but a pair of extremely tight, elastic boxer briefs! 2 A thrill shot through me. Continuing my routine, I kept an eye on him from the corner of my vision, while subtly twisting my nimble, graceful body. With my back still to him, I performed a pole dance routine that was even more sensual and provocative than usual. My peripheral vision caught his eyes, wide and fixed on my swaying back, especially my full, curving hips. He stared with a ferocity that seemed to want to devour me whole, more intensely than ever before. He was already so tall, powerfully built, with a healthy, dark tan. Now, with that wild glint in his eyes, I couldn't help but think of the overwhelmingly potent figures I'd seen in adult movies. I felt like I’d struck gold. I also recalled a rumor I'd once heard: his wife had left him for that rich old man because she couldn’t stand his endless, nightly torment. I truly couldn't understand why she would feel that was torment. Wasn't that what every woman secretly craved? If only I were his woman, how wonderful that would be! As this thought raced through my mind, I pictured myself forcefully pinned beneath him, a thrilling, heart-pounding image. I couldn't help but launch into another pole dance. My movements were even more fluid, more alluring. His eyes widened further, that predatory glint, the desire to consume me, burning even hotter. Yet, I felt it wasn't enough. As long as he could still control himself, I wouldn't be satisfied. I needed to completely ignite the fire in his heart and body. I wanted him to burn with me, intensely and without restraint, until he couldn't hold back anymore. By now, after two pole dance routines, I was slightly breathless, my body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. I seized the opportunity to make an even bolder move. It was the first time I had ever done something so daring in front of him on the balcony. Right there, under his ravenous gaze that promised to devour me, I began to change my clothes. Of course, because it was the first time, I still didn't dare turn fully towards him. I kept my back to him, only letting him see my fair, supple skin. Though I hadn’t actually been with a man yet, my extensive experience with adult films had taught me more about men than most women my age. I knew that to truly entice a man, you couldn't reveal everything at once. Nor could you let him have everything immediately. The more he only saw my alluring back, the more he would long to see my front. And the more I deliberately withheld it, the more he would crave, fantasize, and lose control, finally doing the wild thing I’d been longing for. I deliberately unfastened my top's back clasp slowly, piece by piece, then slowly slipped off my shirt. Next, I bent over, slowly peeling off my ultra-short skirt... 3 Instead of quickly putting on the clean clothes I’d prepared, I picked up my towel and slowly, deliberately, began to wipe the beads of sweat from my body. From front to back… then from top to bottom… Throughout this entire process, I remained with my back to him. The whole thing lasted at least ten minutes before I had slowly and completely wiped myself dry. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his gaze behind me. It wasn't just burning with a devouring intensity greater than ever before; it was truly ablaze with fire. I knew I had completely ignited the flame in his body and heart. But at that moment, I allowed myself a knowing smile. Then, I quickly dressed. After that, with a graceful turn, I left the balcony, entered the living room, and vanished from his sight, leaving him with nothing. My goal was to light that raging fire within him, but not be responsible for putting it out. I wanted him to suffer even more, to be tortured by desire. Then, at just the right moment, I would give him an opening. Only then, after being suppressed for so long, would he explode with uncontrolled urgency, like a rampaging beast. And only then could I truly become the leading lady of my own adult movie, experiencing the primal impact I craved. For the rest of the day, I secretly watched his movements. He spent the entire day restless and agitated, constantly pacing to his balcony and peering towards ours. From his craving eyes, I knew how desperately he wished I would appear on the balcony again. But I simply hid in my apartment, secretly amused. The more he acted this way, the more I wanted to tease him, leaving him wanting, but unsatisfied. As dusk approached, he took a phone call on his balcony. It sounded like a few buddies were inviting him out for dinner and drinks. Unable to decline their insistent invitations, he agreed. After hanging up, he didn't leave immediately. Instead, he stared at our balcony a few more times, lingering with an air of strong reluctance and regret, before finally turning and going back into his room. A little while later, I heard him leave his apartment, his footsteps heading towards the elevator, then descending. He and his friends had a long dinner. By the time I heard him return, several hours had passed. I was watching an adult movie, waiting for him. As I listened to him open and close his apartment door, I glanced at my phone. It was nearly midnight. The first thing he did upon returning was rush out onto his balcony and peer towards ours again. In the dim night light, I saw the fierce flame burning even brighter in his eyes. A gust of night wind carried the strong scent of alcohol. Clearly, he'd had quite a bit to drink tonight. A secret delight fluttered in my heart. He was already tall, powerful, built like a primal force. Now, having drunk so much, wouldn’t he be even more uncontrollable, more overwhelmingly potent? But he didn't see me. I was hiding in the shadows. He had no idea of my secret glee. He stayed on the balcony, looking around for a while, and when he didn't see me, he turned away, disappointed and deflated, and went back into his room. I waited a little longer, estimating the time was right. Then, I grabbed my pink bath towel, dressed in something even sexier than what I’d worn during the day, and left my apartment. I walked to his door and rang his doorbell. The doorbell chimed for a while before I heard his heavy footsteps. When he reached the door, he only glanced through the peephole, and the next second, he urgently flung the door open. Just like that morning on the treadmill, he was completely bare-chested, wearing nothing but those extremely tight, elastic boxer briefs. His eyes held surprise, inquiry, and a burning, consuming fire. “You, do you need something?” His throat bobbed, his voice trembling. “Were you about to sleep? Did I disturb you?” I gave him a alluring smile. “No, no disturbance. It’s still early for sleep, I have trouble sleeping and usually stay up late on my phone. I was just about to take a shower, that’s why I’m dressed like this.” “Oh, good. I was also about to shower, but my water heater suddenly stopped working. I was wondering if I could borrow your bathroom? Would you mind?” “Mind? Of course not! Please, come in!” I smiled even more seductively, swaying my hips with a sensual, graceful movement, and stepped inside… 4 I deliberately brushed past him. His tall, powerfully built frame, over six feet, was like a tower. I'm only five feet five, so you can imagine how small I felt next to him, how stiflingly immense his presence was. But I liked that oppressive feeling. Even more, I loved the strong scent of alcohol and the palpable wave of male hormones radiating from him. As I brushed past, I intentionally pressed my soft, yielding body against his large, animalistic physique. In that instant, I felt the searing heat of his tanned skin. I was certain he felt the smooth, delicate texture of my skin, like snow. I distinctly felt his powerful body tremble uncontrollably. My own heart abruptly began to pound faster. But it was only a few fleeting seconds before I was past him, heading towards the bathroom. He stood there stunned for several seconds before snapping back to reality. Then, with a resounding thud, he quickly and securely closed the living room door, locking it. From the corner of my eye, I saw him staring at my graceful, sensual form as I headed towards the bathroom. His gaze was even more intensely predatory than in the daytime, promising to devour me. A hint of triumph and cunning, like a predator eyeing its prey, flickered in his burning eyes. But I wasn't scared in the slightest. Instead, I gave a knowing smile with my back to him. The true hunters often appear as prey. Soon, we’d see who was truly whose prey! His apartment layout was identical to mine. But his decor was different. Especially his bathroom door – it was made of frosted glass, allowing vague shadows to be seen through it. This suited my plans perfectly. I entered the bathroom, closed the door, but not only did I not lock it, I deliberately left a tiny crack open. It was a clear invitation, implying he could push the door open and enter whenever he was bold enough. Next, I slowly undressed, admiring my perfect figure in the mirror for a while. Only then did I turn on the shower and step under the curtain of water. As I washed, I deliberately hummed a suggestive, teasing tune. Since I entered the bathroom, I hadn’t heard him move. I was sure he was standing not far from the bathroom door, looking in my direction. I was also certain that my entire showering process, and the faint, tall, shapely shadow of my perfect figure, were all being watched by him, his eyes wide, his desire to consume me even more intense. Too bad he hadn't turned on the lights. The outer room was only lit by the dim light filtering in from outside the window. The bathroom light, however, was much brighter. This allowed him to stand in the relative darkness outside, brazenly peeking at my shadow projected onto the bathroom door, while I, from inside, couldn't see him at all. But not seeing him didn't matter. I could imagine. I couldn't help but picture his naked body, save for those shorts, out there becoming even more monstrous, more primal than any beast. I smugly anticipated that if things continued this way, it wouldn’t be long before the fire inside him would rage even hotter, and he would lose all control, pushing open the bathroom door and rushing in… 5 I’d seen countless adult films. Many of them featured scenes in bathrooms. I’d always longed for a bathroom encounter. We could shower together. I could scrub his entire body, and he could scrub mine. And of course, when the internal fire burned beyond control, we could burn together like kindling, consumed by the flames. However, to my surprise, after almost half an hour, what I had confidently expected still hadn’t happened. Not only did he not push open the bathroom door and rush in, he didn't even say a single provocative word to me from outside. It was as if he wasn't even in the room outside, as if he had left like a perfect gentleman. But I clearly hadn't heard him leave. Puzzled, I turned off the shower and listened intently. I heard heavy, ragged breathing coming from the room outside. So, he hadn't left after all. He must have been breathing heavily because my shadow on the bathroom door was teasing him. It seemed that despite his tall, powerful build, like a beast, he only had the desire of a beast, but none of its courage. He only dared to hide in the dark outside, peeking at my shadow on the bathroom door and fantasizing, but lacked the courage to rush in. How disappointing! After his wife ran off, he’d apparently become so hostile towards women that every woman in the complex was terrified of him. Especially me – he’d always eyed me as if he wanted to devour me whole. But when I actually gave him the chance, he didn't even have the guts to burst into the bathroom! It seemed my teasing wasn't enough. He'd even had so much to drink tonight. If I couldn't provoke him into rushing into the bathroom even when he was drunk, I was truly a failure! But I wasn’t disheartened. In fact, I firmly believed that if I kept trying, tonight, I, the true hunter appearing as prey, would definitely turn him into my real prey. So, I didn't rush to open the door and leave. Instead, I wiped the misty mirror, then admired my perfect, ivory-skinned body, still glistening with water droplets, in the reflection. And I did this while leaning over the sink, admiring myself in the mirror. I was sure the shadow of me on the bathroom door would show my waist perfectly arched, my full hips perfectly tilted high. I hummed a song, not the teasing tune from before, but a luridly suggestive song that had been popular on social media recently, one that described body parts in a lewd and provocative way. I simply refused to believe that in this moment, in this setting, he could resist the temptation of such a song sung by a fresh, tender eighteen-year-old college girl. 6 Yet, I still didn’t get him to rush into the bathroom. I only heard his ragged breathing outside growing faster and heavier. I suspected he was uncontrollably doing what I’d seen many times in adult movies, focused on my shadow on the bathroom door. It seemed I had overestimated him after all. He might be tall and powerfully built, with the physique of those primal figures from adult movies, but he lacked their animalistic ferocity and daring! He only dared to satisfy himself by staring at my shadow on the bathroom door, not by actually rushing into the bathroom to do the crime I'd secretly craved. It was clear I needed to resort to more extreme measures. So, I stopped admiring myself in the mirror and stopped humming the suggestive song. I didn't even bother drying my hair or body. Still soaking wet, I wrapped myself in my towel and pushed open the bathroom door, stepping out. His increasingly rapid and heavy breathing suddenly ceased. So, he really was doing that to my shadow on the bathroom door. He must have been startled by my sudden appearance and quickly stopped, right? I couldn’t help but smile, amused and alluring, as I looked his way. In the dim light, I saw him, indeed, lying on the sofa, unmoving. His large hands were placed in a very particular position, quite suggestive, sparking all sorts of impure thoughts. I was even more certain now that my earlier suspicions were correct. He had indeed been doing what I'd guessed, fixated on my shadow on the bathroom door. And he had indeed been startled by my sudden emergence, freezing in place. His face was somewhat flushed. Was it from guilt, from shame and embarrassment? I never would have thought that a man who instilled fear in all the women in the complex, a man who constantly watched me with murderous intent, wanting to devour me whole, could ever feel guilty, or blush from shame and embarrassment. But his flush lasted only a few seconds. His eyes, wide and fixed on me, once again blazed with that familiar devouring intensity he usually held when he watched me. His throat still bobbed. I heard a loud gulp as he swallowed. In that moment, he was a starved wolf, and I, a lamb waiting to be slaughtered. Compared to his over six-foot, powerfully built frame, I, a five-foot-five freshman girl, was so delicate. I was only wrapped in a towel, which was so short it barely covered anything. And the parts that were exposed, glistening in the dim light, seemed even more luminous, like pure snow. Especially the shimmering water droplets rolling down my neck, tracing paths along the expanse of my pale chest, slipping into the valley between my breasts, and disappearing beneath the towel. In this moment, this scene, how could he, a man radiating strong alcohol and primal hormonal scents, like a beast of pure masculine power, possibly resist? How could he not look at me with even more ravenous eyes, salivating and gulping? "Thank you, I'm done. You can go wash up now. Goodnight..." I said, choosing this very moment to play my game of enticing yet retreating. With that, I turned and headed towards the living room door. But after only a few steps, I deliberately "slipped," tumbling to the floor. My towel instantly slid off my naked body. I lay on the floor, head and waist buried low, but my full hips were perfectly angled towards him on the sofa, arched high.
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