Footballer voyeur

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Pedro was staying with a girlfriend in her rented flat in Paris. He was passing through really, on his way to London for a charity football match in two day's time. He'd left his home in Milan, where he played for the city team, the day before and had arranged to take a couple of days out to rest up before the game in England. He'd not seen Anna for a year or so and they'd agreed that it was high time they caught up on news. They'd been teenage lovers once, many years ago back in Milan, and now they were able to enjoy the intimacy of friendship without the threat of sexual innuendo hanging over them. Staying at her place in Paris gave Pedro the chance to get away from the spotlight, the Paparazzi and the training schedules. It was only a charity match and he could just turn up and play so there was no need to spend several days in a hotel, pre-match training and psyching himself up. He was on holiday and that was that. But Anna had been called into work that evening leaving Pedro alone in the flat, kicking his heels and wondering what he should do. He didn't like sitting still, didn't enjoy time away from physical activity and he was becoming restless. He knew he should be relaxing, that's what holidays were about, but doing nothing didn't sit well with him. He'd wandered about the place, checking through the books on the shelves, all in French, thumbed through the DVDs, found nothing he wanted to watch, and had been searching around the cable channels trying to find something on TV to take his mind off his inactivity. His restlessness was not helped by the weather. It was July, the city was heating up in a heat-wave and the flat had no air conditioning. Dusk had settled in outside and, through the tall French windows he could see the orange glow of the city lighting the night sky beyond the block of flats opposite. There wasn't even a view to admire. Anna's flat was hemmed in by another block directly opposite and separated by a small courtyard.He wandered out onto the balcony and the closeness of the air struck him. He could smell the city fumes, warmed and intensified by the heat of the dying day. The sounds of car horns and police sirens echoed around the courtyard below and drifted past him into the ether. It was as dull out there as it was inside. Nothing to do but wait for Anna to come home so they could sit up late and chat again. He contemplated going out but couldn't be bothered to get dressed. He'd showered and put on a pair of light shorts with nothing underneath and had thrown on one of his playing tops. He stood on the balcony barefoot and leaned on the chest high railing, simply staring across at the windows opposite. Most of them were shuttered or curtained, only one light was on. About two floors below he could see a guy sitting at a computer. At least he could see the torso, the head was hidden from view by the top of the patio doors and the angle from which Pedro looked down. Just some nerd surfing his evening away. Dull. This wasn't doing him any good, he found himself getting wound up. He wanted to do something but nothing appealed. He padded back inside and wandered into Anna's room to stand in front of the full length mirror and talk to himself.