Voyeur Extraordinaire (5 page)

With as much grace as possible, my head held high, I walked toward the garbage can and disposed of the little poop bag. Then I walked toward my scooter, swaying my hips slightly like I'd seen some of my co-workers do. I turned my head to see how he'd liked my little show, only to be disappointed. My shoulders slumped. He was already gone. Apparently, I was invisible to him. He hadn't even noticed me. Only an old man with a poodle stared at me with parted lips. Not the kind of attention I was looking for. I got enough of that at work.

I stared down at Bruno who was watching me like I'd grown a second head.
Great.
Even my dog thought I was crazy. And maybe I was. I really needed to stop acting like an idiot.

My bad day turned even worse that night. For the first time since I'd moved into my new apartment, Adrian's bedroom was dark and the curtains were drawn. I sank down on my bed and sulked. Life really was a bitch.

The next two days it was the same. Adrian's window remained dark, no sign of him, and it was starting to worry me. Because I couldn't imagine spending the rest of my nights without Adrian. I'd gotten used to watching him bang girls and my dreams consisted of nothing but him. And me. Naked. On his bed.

I shouldn't be obsessing over someone I didn't even know. It was wrong. Very wrong and unhealthy but I couldn't stop.

Maybe I should try to get laid by the next man who crossed my path. But I didn't want to get laid by a random stranger. I wanted to get laid by Adrian. A small voice deep inside wondered if that was really what I wanted, but I ignored it. I groaned in frustration and buried my face in my pillow. Night three without Adrian. It was going to be a long, sleepless, nerve-wrecking night.

N
ight four, and Adrian's window was dark. It was frustrating. What if something had happened to him? What if he'd moved away? What if he'd become a monk?

I let out a sad sigh and was about to close the curtains when Adrian's bedroom lit up. My heartbeat tripled and I almost dropped the binoculars in excitement. There he was, clad in a nice dark suit. A gorgeous brunette in a tight pencil skirt and a white blouse was loosening his tie. He was smirking at her, running his right hand through her long hair while his left hand squeezed her ass.

Bruno let out an excited yelp and I grinned at him. “He's back!” I whispered in a breathless voice.

They were kissing, Adrian's hand tangled in the woman's hair. I sank down on the windowsill in a comfortable position as I watched them dropping one piece of clothing after the other. It was sad how happy I was about his return. I didn't even know him and yet he'd become a part of my life.

Adrian was pulling down his pants, revealing his hard-on, when I heard a creak. My head shot around and I almost got a heart attack when I saw Amy standing in the door frame, smiling sheepishly. “Your door was open so I thought I should check on you. I thought something might have happened to you. I was worried.”

I must have been so lost in my thoughts that I'd forgotten to close the door to my apartment when I'd come home from work. I felt myself blush and lowered the binoculars, trying to hide them from Amy's view but she had already seen them. Her face lit up with excitement and she rushed over to me, startling me. Why was she even still awake?

She snatched the binoculars from my fingers and peered through them. I lowered my head, feeling absolutely mortified. Could it get worse? Amy caught me watching my neighbor having sex. Now she probably thought I was a pervert and she'd never talk to me again.

I jumped slightly when I heard her excited screech. She bounced up and down, and let out a delighted giggle when she found what she was looking for. Adrian's bedroom window, I assumed.

“I can't believe it!” she exclaimed with more giggles. “Adrian naked, having sex with a brunette!”

I bit my lip, utterly surprised by her reaction and not sure what to say. She didn't seem mad at me or disgusted by what I did. Amy was a strange woman.

“How long have you been doing that?” she asked curiously, not taking her eyes from Adrian's window.

“
Ummm....for a while,” I admitted in embarrassment. I could feel the heat in my cheeks increasing. I was only glad that Amy hadn’t caught me with my hand shoved into my panty. I didn’t think I would have gotten over that kind of mortification.

She shook her head, grinning, and lowered the binoculars to look at me. “Damn it. My window doesn't face this way.”

I frowned. “You've got Jared.”

She let out a bell-like laugh. “I know and I'm not interested in Adrian. He's too much of a heart breaker anyway, but it would be fun to watch him. Maybe I'd learn something. Or maybe Jared and I could watch him together. It would be like live-porn.” She giggled again and brought the binoculars back to her eyes, peering through them.

I exchanged a look with Bruno and shook my head in disbelief. My life was getting stranger every day.

I
took another sip from my coffee as I watched Amy. She was drinking her own cup of coffee and was completely immersed in a foodie magazine. Her Matcha tea phase seemed to have passed, or maybe she had returned to coffee for my sake. Of course it wasn’t just any coffee. It was organic and fairtrade. Sometimes I felt bad for buying the regular stuff, but I didn’t have enough money to afford a good conscience. Amy turned a page, taking another sip of her coffee.

It was often like this. We had breakfast together in comfortable silence and it didn't feel awkward at all. Amy and I just seemed perfect for each other. If she were a man and if
there Jared weren’t in the picture, we could be the dream couple.

While the silence usually didn’t bother me, I was trying to build up the courage to ask Amy a question that had been bothering me for days. Now that she knew about my voyeuristic tendencies, I didn’t even have to make up a silly reason for why I was interested in the topic. I just wasn't sure how to broach the subject.

Every girl that I'd seen in Adrian's bedroom had been shaved completely. There hadn’t been a single hair. And I was starting to wonder if this was normal, if all girls that had sex on a regular basis were shaved. My hair style down below was rather natural and I began to worry that this wasn't what men preferred. It couldn't really be a coincidence that every girl that Adrian had banged so far had been bare, could it?

So either he asked every woman he met if she was shaved – which I doubted very much. Most women didn’t take it kindly if a guy asked them about their private parts – which I knew from personal experience. Some men at work lost every sense of propriety after their third beer. It was one of the most awkward topics
.

But if Adrian didn't ask them, this could only mean that the majority of women were shaved, and that would mean that my haircut wasn't normal.

I was starting to have a headache from the topic. I'd never thought that I would have to worry about a haircut for the “Netherlands”. What a mess. Maybe I should give up on guys and dating and sex for good, and look into becoming a nun.

“So Amy,” I began, twisting the cup in my hands. “What do you think about shaving...
”

Amy lifted her gaze from the magazine and frowned at me in confusion.

“Umm...I mean...down there, you know,” I murmured, nodding toward my lap and feeling my face heat in embarrassment.

Amy shook her head with a smile. “Waxing is the magic word. Not shaving. That’s so yesterday’s news. I mean with all the hard stubbles peeking out after a day.”

I blinked. “Waxing?”

“Yes, I know a good waxing studio. I'm going there quite often to get a waxing. They are amazing. A huge percentage of their clients are men, gay men, and if that isn’t a sign, then I don’t know what is. Or course, there are straight men getting a waxing too, swimmers and runners who think smooth legs and arms make them faster, and…” I could tell that she wouldn’t stop talking any time soon. Whenever a topic was important to her, she could go on about it for hours. I just hadn’t known that something like
waxing
was on that list. Veganism, fairtrade, interior design and yoga, those I could understand, but waxing?

I coughed. “So you're waxed. Completely?” I tried not to let a picture of Amy’s vagina pop up in my head and almost broke into a sweat from the effort.

She laughed again and looked at me like I was the cutest little thing she’d ever seen. I had to admit that it made me feel really dumb. “Yes. Jared loves it. Have you never done it?”

I bit my lip nervously. “No. There was never the need for me to...since I never really had a long-term relationship…”

“Nothing is better than waxing. No hair is a must, really. And you don’t have to be in a relationship to take care of yourself. I think we women should do more things for ourselves,” she said with a grin. When I thought of things I could do for myself, ripping my hair out, root and all, somehow didn’t cross my mind. I’d always filed that under torture and not so much wellness.

“At first I always got the Brazilian Landing strip, but then I decided to get the Brazilian Hollywood Cut, and Jared positively adores it. Nothing is more perturbing than having hair in your mouth all the time.”

I stared at her with wide eyes, not having the slightest clue what she'd just talked about. “Brazilian what?” I was either the dumbest person on the planet, or Amy was simply weird. So far I’d associated Brazil with carnival, the Copacabana and the Amazon.

She giggled, definitely amused by my cluelessness. “I guess we need to deal with the basics first.” She sat up straighter and folded her hands. “Landing strip means that a thin strip of pubic hair remains. Hollywood Cut means that every single hair gets removed. There's also the option of having a Brazilian Triangle, but I've never had it.”

My face felt like it was burning up but I couldn't take my eyes from Amy. She didn't seem embarrassed at all by the topic. She talked about it as though it was the most normal thing in the world, but maybe it was, and I was just a freak.

“So men like it?”

Amy nodded her head vehemently. “Most men don't like their women all bushy.” She paused, scrutinizing me. “I've got an idea. It's Saturday and we both don't have anything better to do. So why don't we go to my favorite waxing studio and get a waxing. I'm due anyway.”

I swallowed, a bit nervous but also very excited. “Sure, why not.”

I yelped in surprise when Amy grabbed my thigh and pushed my trouser leg up. She took a look at my calf and ran a hand over it. I blushed furiously, knowing that I hadn't gotten around to shaving for a few days. Could my mortification get any worse?

Amy tilted her head in contemplation. “I’m not sure if your hair is long enough. We’ll have to ask if we can have your legs waxed as well.”

I nodded numbly, gulping down the rest of my coffee.

Amy jumped up from her chair, startling Bruno who'd been sleeping on his back, snoring loudly. He rolled onto his stomach and watched us. I stood and patted his head in apology.

“Come on, Nora. Let's go. The sooner we get rid of your body hair, the better,” Amy shouted loud enough for probably the entire neighborhood to hear.

My face was as red as a tomato as I followed Amy out of my apartment and down the stairs toward her Mini Cooper.

Amy was a fast driver, even worse than most Cab drivers, and a few times I actually feared for my life but luckily we arrived safely at our destination. The waxing studio Amy led me into was held in white and light green tones and there were bright orange sofas and armchairs everywhere. The woman behind the counter recognized Amy immediately and greeted us very friendly, which probably should have set me at ease. She was even taller than me and had a waist to kill for. Her blond hair was pulled back in a tidy ponytail. Despite her smile, I was a bit intimidated. This place looked expensive, and even Amy’s words couldn’t get me excited about spending a little fortune on someone torturing me.

“So what can I do for you and your friend?” the woman asked.

Amy smiled. “Armpits, Legs, Brazilian Hollywood Cut,” the words shot out of her mouth without hesitation and I didn't dare to object, though I wondered if the Hollywood Cut was the right thing for me. Maybe I should start small, with a Triangle or something like that. Then an image of Adrian with his women shot through my head and I decided that I could do it. I’d survived two years in Jack’s bar. How bad could this really be?

A woman who looked to be in her late twenties with curly, brown hair introduced herself as Marie, my
Depiladora.
Apparently, that was the correct term for someone who removed people's hair. There was so much I needed to learn. The word sounded glamorous. Maybe I should consider changing jobs. But the thought of ripping someone’s hair from their lady parts somehow sounded even worse than serving beer to drunk assholes. Oh well…

Amy waved me
good bye as she was led into a room, and I followed Marie into another small room where I had to undress and lie down on a orange lounger. Marie smiled at me while she put something that looked like honey on my calf. It was warm and felt quite nice.

“This will hurt a little,” my
Depiladora
warned me.