I’m a healthy guy. I eat a lot of fruit and exercise every morning in my room, ranging from push-ups to sit-downs and sideways-walking. I like to think that it helps me keep a decent figure, which then gives me a healthy confidence boost whenever I walk down the street and notice that none of the girls look at me. They don’t see me as a wuss, or a geek, or a useless mess – they don’t see me at all. This is what drives my extensive fitness levels, and is why I can now pick up two bags of shopping at the same time without sustaining a crippling lower-back injury.
Every morning, as soon as I get up, the routine kicks in and I have pancakes, cereal, toast, washed down with some apple juice. After waiting twenty minutes for this to digest (which I usually spend surfing internet chat-rooms for eligible ladies) I drop to the floor and pound out ten push-ups in a row, building up a tremendous sweat in the process. I typically get up and wash my face, brush my teeth after this, and have a lie down to recover my breath. Because I don’t like to get my clothes sweaty, whenever I go through my gruelling programme I am dressed only in my boxers, which range from tight and white to black and… tight. A few days ago I was halfway through my workout when I saw something flash in the window of the house opposite. A person.
In order to verify what I thought I saw, which could obviously just have been a hallucination caused by my heavy stress levels from a heavy energy drain, I waited until night-time. I happen to have a large mannequin in my wardrobe, bought in case I ever needed a decoy for some reason. Getting it out and attaching the wig that I got to go with it, I bend it into a doggy position on my floor and crawled out of the window slowly. It’s worth noting that I live at the back of the house. From my room the window looks out over the roof of an extension which builds out of our ground floor, and towards the house opposite us. So with the curtains open and decoy set out, I walked across the roof under the cloak of darkness and camped out there for a while. Luckily I’d brought a small-scale picnic to enjoy while I waited.
After three hours I was finally rewarded by the sight of someone walking into the kitchen, a girl, who I’d seen before. She washed some plates and then glanced out the window, towards where my mannequin was performing a semi-aborted push-up, thus confirming my view that she had been checking me out before. As I looked at her chest and legs, I realised that she was perfect, and felt fascinated by the need this hot girl had to stare at me in a disturbing manner. In the days afterwards I spent hours on end dressing up and stripping in front of the window, doing stretches, and trying to impress the girl further. She hasn’t been seen again, sadly, but this is probably just a ploy to get me off-guard so she can start watching me without me knowing about it again.
She’s a canny broad, this one.