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The Virgo Constellation Shift: part 1
The Virgo Constellation: Part 1
Astronomy geek turns voyeur, and discovers a busty classmate’s
bedroom window.
By Millsy
for Literotica Listen to the ►
Podcast at Steamy
Stories.
I lived at the top end of the village,
my bedroom overlooking the main road and, of all things, a cemetery across the
other side. Beyond that was the mountain that separated our valley from the
next one across, so you'd think this was not exactly the ideal domain for
somebody who held an unhealthy interest in space and astronomy while he was growing
up. What we did have, though, was a loft conversion with two large windows -
one on each side - that tilted open so you had a clear and unobstructed view of
most of the night sky from inside the house. While most people had to put their
stargazing telescopes outside in the garden, mine was up there in the loft warm
and dry all year round.
It was a nice 'scope with a 250x
magnification. What that means is that something five hundred feet away would
seem almost within touching reach of you as you gazed at it. I don't know how
much it cost - 300, 400 maybe - as it was part of a long stream of space
related Christmas presents that spanned several years from when I was 8 or 9
years old to the time that this tale relates to, when I was a nineteen year old
getting ready to graduate from sixth form with my A levels and go to
university. Water rockets, star charts, planetarium balls, computers and
cameras had for years been my birthday and Christmas presents, and while the
telescope was still a few years old, it was my most prized possession.
And not just because you could see
details of the moon's rugged terrain with it, or make out the shape of the
horsehead nebula in the constellation Sagittarius. Oh no. Since I had become
sexually aware it had quite often been turned away from the night sky, and
tilted much more earthward as a growing curiosity of not only what was above
me, but also what was around me, began to plague my imagination. It had started
with furtive spying on other kids playing on the mountainside, lighting fires
with stolen matches, on older teens drinking and snogging and touching each
other up supposedly out of sight of the village and their parents. Then once
that had paled it had turned even more ground-ward in search of voyeuristic
delights.
As I lived at the top end of the village
the loft had a commanding view across the large, rectangular plot of allotments
that lay behind our house. Around these allotments were other houses, all
tightly packed terraced dwellings arranged around the perimeter of the
allotments that took about ten minutes to walk around with my dog in the
mornings. From the loft, with the telescope angled below the horizontal, I
could see inside peoples’ gardens, kitchens, bathrooms and, obviously,
bedrooms. The angles limited exactly what you could see, but with many houses I
had what could be considered a fairly interesting view.
That's when I fell in lust with Rebecca.
Rebecca was like me; imperfect. I was
skinny, geeky by nature, more interested in technology and astronomy than
playing football and rugby and would rather be out with a radio controlled car
than a pushbike. Rebecca was a little overweight - though certainly nowhere
near obese - and spent most of her spare time in her bedroom either playing The
Sims on her computer or wiling away the nights on the internet. I knew this
because I could see her through the telescope. I didn't have a full view of her
bedroom, but I got enough of an angle on her room that I could see her desk and
dressing table, and maybe a third of the bottom of her bed. It was a bit of a
mess, with clothes scattered everywhere, books and papers and hair care
containers all over the place, but that was no different to my own.
Occasionally mine was tidied, usually shortly after my parents had gone
ballistic on me, but more often than not it looked little better than Bex's. I
didn't notice after a while, though, because all I was interested in was her.
The lens no longer looked out into space, but deep into Bex's bedroom.
She was a little younger - not by much,
though, and had long black hair, most often tied up in a ponytail, and pale
milky skin because like me she would rather stay indoors than go out. I don't
suppose she had many friends - I never saw anyone else in her room while I was
spying on her - and her habit of locking herself up inside rather than going
out probably contributed to not just her pale complexion, but also the extra
pounds that she carried. Don’t get me wrong here, Rebecca was not a fat
girl, but she did carry that extra baggage that comes with growing up and it
hadn't burned off due to the lack of exercise that her internet regimen
dictated. She had also been one of the b-grade pupils through her years in
comprehensive school, and that's why I hadn't noticed her before - we shared no
common classes. Pupils were segregated into achievers and under-achievers from
the age of thirteen, but Rebecca had clearly worked hard to move out of the
lower band and into the uppers, which I reckoned might also help to explain her
lack of close friends. She had outgrown her old ones by leaving them behind in
their second grade classes, and the ones in the upper band had their own
cliques and she hadn't found a way to be included in those.
As is common with some overweight girls,
her face was rounded and relatively plain. Soft. When you looked closer - as I
did on the bus on the way in to school every day and during Math which was the
single cross-over lesson that we both endured together, you could see that
beneath the puppy fat there was a very pretty face waiting to break out. Most
don't notice these things normally, but when you begin to really focus on
somebody the potential becomes so apparent that you wonder why the rest of the
world doesn't see it. What attracted me to Rebecca, though, was not so much the
awareness of how this girl could grow into a good looking woman, but that her
secrets were every bit as dark as mine.
You see, the telescope showed me things
about her that you would never normally imagine. It started when I was scanning
the back bedrooms of the houses that overlooked the allotments, hoping to find
a couple going at it like rabbits with the lights on and the curtains wide open
- something that had happened just twice in about three years of below the
horizon stargazing. Then one evening my lens settled on the glow of Becca's
computer screen, and her profile highlighted in off-white light in the darkness
as she MSN'd to complete strangers with her right hand while she felt her own
boobs up with her left. My God that got me so hard it was painful, even though
all I could see was a ghostly hand moving over her bra as the position of her
desk and chair in relation to my view was at a bit of a difficult angle. I
couldn't make out what she was typing, or who she was typing to, but I could
see from the images that flashed up on her screen exactly what the subject
matter was, and that made my stiff meat harder still.
Men were sending her grainy photographs
of their cocks, and while they did that she was navigating through an array of
folders and pulling up mobile phone pictures of her own hidden treasures. On
one occasion I watched her spread her legs and put the mobile down there,
before plugging the phone into her computer and uploading a beautiful picture
of her fur lined pussy being invaded by a dainty finger, relaying it then on to
some unknown lucky bastard over the broadband. She was very careful not to show
her face on-line, but her tits and fanny were flaunted to all comers with
wanton abandon. I longed for her MSN address as I watched her on those rare
occasions when she was online and hadn't closed the blinds, my own hand working
my hardness slowly as image after image of hard dicks and gaping pussies
flashed up on her screen. Sometimes images of women with cocks in their mouths
or men fucking away at their engorged, distended cunts made it up onto the
monitor as anonymous wankers from all around the world traded dirty photographs
with the object of my secret obsession, while I in turn wanked myself off into
the microfiber cloths that I used to polish the lenses on my telescope.
All the while she sat there, leaning
into the screen as she sent and received photographs, her hands working on her
tits or moving purposefully between her thighs and out of sight to me. We wanked
together, Becca and I, though she knew naught of me, remaining blissfully
unaware of my hard, erect manhood being stroked in rigid salute of her as she
laughed and sighed in a world of her own until my semen spurted into a cloth,
often catching me by surprise as I watched her bare legs and feet propped up on
the edge of her desk as she leaned back in her chair, the laptop showing a
webcam of some stranger also wanking himself off as she chatted over MSN with
him before the days of Skype made typing old hat.
How I longed to hear her voice
whispering those fuck-me lines, encouraging me to pump my cock harder, to spurt
my semen over her full teenaged tits or her open slit, wet and slippery from
having just been fingered by red painted nails. I lay awake at night long after
she had switched off and gone to sleep herself, replaying the images in my
mind, my eyes closed as her husky, lust laden voice urged me to finger her, to
eat her out, to ram my hard cock inside her, to flood her womb with my seed or
spill it down her gulping throat. I showered every single morning, desperately
trying to think of an angle that could get me closer to her as I readied for
school, paying more attention to my appearance than I had ever done in my life,
depleting Lynx shower gel bottles at an alarming rate and going through a tube
of toothpaste a week.
Then one day in Math class when I was
trying to conceal a raging hard-on beneath my desk, it suddenly came to me.
This was the last lesson of the day, yet it was only lunch time. Normally I'd
walk the four miles home instead of waiting for the bus, but most people that
lived our way either spent the afternoon in the sixth form common room or in
the library. So this time I stayed behind, leaving my bewildered friends to
walk home without me, claiming that I was staying behind because I was having
trouble with one of my subjects. I looked for Rebecca in the common room, found
it deserted, then after lunch break I wandered into the library.
She was there, and she gave me nothing
more than a cursory glance as I entered the room. I left it five minutes,
thumbing my way through the shelves of books, before finally plucking up the
courage to sit opposite her at the table as she worked away at an assignment
that she had been given while waiting for the bus to pick her up at the end of
the day.
She looked up at me, her eyes reflecting
annoyance and a little bewilderment that of all the seats and tables in the
near deserted library I could have chosen to sit at I chose the one opposite
her. " Hiya Rebecca. I'm sorry to be a bother, but did you get those
equations in math at all?"
"What do you mean?"
"I just didn't understand how you
get the answer from the question. I'm probably just being thick, but the
workings out didn't seem to take me to the answer that everybody else was
getting."
"Probably,” she laughed. I
was captivated already, I just hoped it didn't show too obviously. "It all
seemed pretty easy to me."
"Could you show me,” I asked,
and pulled out the work that I had done in the class and deliberately got
wrong, having carefully made the same mistake on each of the sample equations
that we had been given.
"Ah, I can see what you've
done..,” She said after she'd studied my work, then she proceeded to
patiently explain to me exactly where I 'd screwed up.
"That's it,” I asked, still
playing my role as class dunce.
"That's it. Easy,” She
exclaimed.
"Well, thanks very much for walking
me through that. I can't afford to screw up this close to the exams. Not with
uni on the line."
And from there the conversation
blossomed. I told her my hopes and ambitions, why math and physics were so
important to my future plans while I worked towards an astrophysics degree, and
she shared her dreams of working in investments and banking, and I bought her a
can of coke from the common room dispensing machine as we wasted the rest of
the afternoon while waiting for the bus home. I helped with her assignment as
best I could, which basically meant that I held her up for a couple of hours,
then when the bus arrived I made a point of sitting beside her on the way home.
As we disembarked at the end of the ten minute journey, I gave her my thanks
once again, then went to walk home. She turned away and headed to her half of
the village without even a backward glance at me, so I did an about face called
out to her.
"Becca, what are you doing
tonight?"
"Why,” She asked suspiciously
as I walked back up to her, setting my bag on the floor between us. " I've
had a good time this afternoon, and I was wondering if you fancied, well, I
don't know.... going out and doing something."
"Are you asking me out,” She
blushed as the bus pulled off noisily.
"Well, yeah. I guess I am. I know
I'm not the greatest catch for a girl, and I won't be at all offended if you
turned me down - I expect you've got much better things to do than waste your
time on me,” I said, and I said it honestly. I'd had dark dreams of
blackmailing her with spreading her secret if she refused to go out with me,
but those ideas were quickly squashed once I'd spent a little time with her. If
it wasn't going to work, then I'd just keep on secretly using her as my
masturbatory muse. I held my breath as I waited for her answer. She seemed to
be weighing me up, unsure which way to lean, then after what felt like an
eternity but were probably just a few seconds she asked; " What you got in
mind?"
I didn't have anything in mind,
actually. My mind was a total blank. " Pictures,” I blurted.
"What's on?"
"I haven't a clue,” I
admitted. And from there it began. That night we caught a movie, and I didn't
even hold her hand as I walked her home from the bus stop. She leaned against
the doorway of her house as I said goodnight, and I hesitantly leaned forward.
Even in the dark I could see her go red, but her eyes fluttered closed and that
was all the invitation that I needed. Our lips touched, and I briefly
entertained the notion of sliding my tongue between her lips, but her mouth
refused to part when I pressed harder so I consciously held ba ck until we
broke apart.
"I'm sorry,” I mumbled.
" It just happened. I couldn't help myself."
"I'll see you tomorrow,” She
murmured, then she opened her door and disappeared inside. It slammed behind
her. I ran home through the dark alley that bordered the allotments and the
backs of the houses, not caring if I trod in dog shit as I bombed through the
lane. I kicked off my shoes in the hallway and poked my head through the living
room door, saying; " Hello, and goodnight,” to my parents who were
up watching something on TV, then I careered up the two flights of stairs to
the loft, threw the window open, and trained my telescope on Becca's bedroom.
All was darkness. Obviously she was still downstairs, so I waited impatiently.
It took about ten minutes, but soon Rebecca's room was bathed in the yellow
glow from the landing as she went in and then the room lit up as she turned on
the light. I saw her walk past her desk, still wearing the jeans and black top
that she had worn to the cinema with me and my cock jerked alive when she
slowly lifted the black silk garment over her head, her back turned to me. I
saw her back split horizontally by the white line of her bra strap, and then
she turned out the lights. With no street lighting at the backs of the houses
everything was pitch dark, and after ten minutes I realised that she had gone
to sleep and wouldn't be turning on her PC for some anonymous roleplay. I
didn't know whether to feel disappointed or not. On the one hand I would have
loved to see her feeling herself up after being so close to her all night, but
on the other hand I was happy that the one kiss we had shared was enough to
send her to sleep and possibly fuel her own fantasies. Perhaps she was even
rubbing herself beneath the sheets in the darkness. I closed the window, crept
down to my room, and dreamed of Rebecca.
I made myself deliberately late for the
bus the next day, making sure that everybody else had got on while I ran to
catch it, last aboard. I caught her eye as I showed my pass
View all episodes
By (various)The Virgo Constellation: Part 1
Astronomy geek turns voyeur, and discovers a busty classmate’s
bedroom window.
By Millsy
for Literotica Listen to the ►
Podcast at Steamy
Stories.
I lived at the top end of the village,
my bedroom overlooking the main road and, of all things, a cemetery across the
other side. Beyond that was the mountain that separated our valley from the
next one across, so you'd think this was not exactly the ideal domain for
somebody who held an unhealthy interest in space and astronomy while he was growing
up. What we did have, though, was a loft conversion with two large windows -
one on each side - that tilted open so you had a clear and unobstructed view of
most of the night sky from inside the house. While most people had to put their
stargazing telescopes outside in the garden, mine was up there in the loft warm
and dry all year round.
It was a nice 'scope with a 250x
magnification. What that means is that something five hundred feet away would
seem almost within touching reach of you as you gazed at it. I don't know how
much it cost - 300, 400 maybe - as it was part of a long stream of space
related Christmas presents that spanned several years from when I was 8 or 9
years old to the time that this tale relates to, when I was a nineteen year old
getting ready to graduate from sixth form with my A levels and go to
university. Water rockets, star charts, planetarium balls, computers and
cameras had for years been my birthday and Christmas presents, and while the
telescope was still a few years old, it was my most prized possession.
And not just because you could see
details of the moon's rugged terrain with it, or make out the shape of the
horsehead nebula in the constellation Sagittarius. Oh no. Since I had become
sexually aware it had quite often been turned away from the night sky, and
tilted much more earthward as a growing curiosity of not only what was above
me, but also what was around me, began to plague my imagination. It had started
with furtive spying on other kids playing on the mountainside, lighting fires
with stolen matches, on older teens drinking and snogging and touching each
other up supposedly out of sight of the village and their parents. Then once
that had paled it had turned even more ground-ward in search of voyeuristic
delights.
As I lived at the top end of the village
the loft had a commanding view across the large, rectangular plot of allotments
that lay behind our house. Around these allotments were other houses, all
tightly packed terraced dwellings arranged around the perimeter of the
allotments that took about ten minutes to walk around with my dog in the
mornings. From the loft, with the telescope angled below the horizontal, I
could see inside peoples’ gardens, kitchens, bathrooms and, obviously,
bedrooms. The angles limited exactly what you could see, but with many houses I
had what could be considered a fairly interesting view.
That's when I fell in lust with Rebecca.
Rebecca was like me; imperfect. I was
skinny, geeky by nature, more interested in technology and astronomy than
playing football and rugby and would rather be out with a radio controlled car
than a pushbike. Rebecca was a little overweight - though certainly nowhere
near obese - and spent most of her spare time in her bedroom either playing The
Sims on her computer or wiling away the nights on the internet. I knew this
because I could see her through the telescope. I didn't have a full view of her
bedroom, but I got enough of an angle on her room that I could see her desk and
dressing table, and maybe a third of the bottom of her bed. It was a bit of a
mess, with clothes scattered everywhere, books and papers and hair care
containers all over the place, but that was no different to my own.
Occasionally mine was tidied, usually shortly after my parents had gone
ballistic on me, but more often than not it looked little better than Bex's. I
didn't notice after a while, though, because all I was interested in was her.
The lens no longer looked out into space, but deep into Bex's bedroom.
She was a little younger - not by much,
though, and had long black hair, most often tied up in a ponytail, and pale
milky skin because like me she would rather stay indoors than go out. I don't
suppose she had many friends - I never saw anyone else in her room while I was
spying on her - and her habit of locking herself up inside rather than going
out probably contributed to not just her pale complexion, but also the extra
pounds that she carried. Don’t get me wrong here, Rebecca was not a fat
girl, but she did carry that extra baggage that comes with growing up and it
hadn't burned off due to the lack of exercise that her internet regimen
dictated. She had also been one of the b-grade pupils through her years in
comprehensive school, and that's why I hadn't noticed her before - we shared no
common classes. Pupils were segregated into achievers and under-achievers from
the age of thirteen, but Rebecca had clearly worked hard to move out of the
lower band and into the uppers, which I reckoned might also help to explain her
lack of close friends. She had outgrown her old ones by leaving them behind in
their second grade classes, and the ones in the upper band had their own
cliques and she hadn't found a way to be included in those.
As is common with some overweight girls,
her face was rounded and relatively plain. Soft. When you looked closer - as I
did on the bus on the way in to school every day and during Math which was the
single cross-over lesson that we both endured together, you could see that
beneath the puppy fat there was a very pretty face waiting to break out. Most
don't notice these things normally, but when you begin to really focus on
somebody the potential becomes so apparent that you wonder why the rest of the
world doesn't see it. What attracted me to Rebecca, though, was not so much the
awareness of how this girl could grow into a good looking woman, but that her
secrets were every bit as dark as mine.
You see, the telescope showed me things
about her that you would never normally imagine. It started when I was scanning
the back bedrooms of the houses that overlooked the allotments, hoping to find
a couple going at it like rabbits with the lights on and the curtains wide open
- something that had happened just twice in about three years of below the
horizon stargazing. Then one evening my lens settled on the glow of Becca's
computer screen, and her profile highlighted in off-white light in the darkness
as she MSN'd to complete strangers with her right hand while she felt her own
boobs up with her left. My God that got me so hard it was painful, even though
all I could see was a ghostly hand moving over her bra as the position of her
desk and chair in relation to my view was at a bit of a difficult angle. I
couldn't make out what she was typing, or who she was typing to, but I could
see from the images that flashed up on her screen exactly what the subject
matter was, and that made my stiff meat harder still.
Men were sending her grainy photographs
of their cocks, and while they did that she was navigating through an array of
folders and pulling up mobile phone pictures of her own hidden treasures. On
one occasion I watched her spread her legs and put the mobile down there,
before plugging the phone into her computer and uploading a beautiful picture
of her fur lined pussy being invaded by a dainty finger, relaying it then on to
some unknown lucky bastard over the broadband. She was very careful not to show
her face on-line, but her tits and fanny were flaunted to all comers with
wanton abandon. I longed for her MSN address as I watched her on those rare
occasions when she was online and hadn't closed the blinds, my own hand working
my hardness slowly as image after image of hard dicks and gaping pussies
flashed up on her screen. Sometimes images of women with cocks in their mouths
or men fucking away at their engorged, distended cunts made it up onto the
monitor as anonymous wankers from all around the world traded dirty photographs
with the object of my secret obsession, while I in turn wanked myself off into
the microfiber cloths that I used to polish the lenses on my telescope.
All the while she sat there, leaning
into the screen as she sent and received photographs, her hands working on her
tits or moving purposefully between her thighs and out of sight to me. We wanked
together, Becca and I, though she knew naught of me, remaining blissfully
unaware of my hard, erect manhood being stroked in rigid salute of her as she
laughed and sighed in a world of her own until my semen spurted into a cloth,
often catching me by surprise as I watched her bare legs and feet propped up on
the edge of her desk as she leaned back in her chair, the laptop showing a
webcam of some stranger also wanking himself off as she chatted over MSN with
him before the days of Skype made typing old hat.
How I longed to hear her voice
whispering those fuck-me lines, encouraging me to pump my cock harder, to spurt
my semen over her full teenaged tits or her open slit, wet and slippery from
having just been fingered by red painted nails. I lay awake at night long after
she had switched off and gone to sleep herself, replaying the images in my
mind, my eyes closed as her husky, lust laden voice urged me to finger her, to
eat her out, to ram my hard cock inside her, to flood her womb with my seed or
spill it down her gulping throat. I showered every single morning, desperately
trying to think of an angle that could get me closer to her as I readied for
school, paying more attention to my appearance than I had ever done in my life,
depleting Lynx shower gel bottles at an alarming rate and going through a tube
of toothpaste a week.
Then one day in Math class when I was
trying to conceal a raging hard-on beneath my desk, it suddenly came to me.
This was the last lesson of the day, yet it was only lunch time. Normally I'd
walk the four miles home instead of waiting for the bus, but most people that
lived our way either spent the afternoon in the sixth form common room or in
the library. So this time I stayed behind, leaving my bewildered friends to
walk home without me, claiming that I was staying behind because I was having
trouble with one of my subjects. I looked for Rebecca in the common room, found
it deserted, then after lunch break I wandered into the library.
She was there, and she gave me nothing
more than a cursory glance as I entered the room. I left it five minutes,
thumbing my way through the shelves of books, before finally plucking up the
courage to sit opposite her at the table as she worked away at an assignment
that she had been given while waiting for the bus to pick her up at the end of
the day.
She looked up at me, her eyes reflecting
annoyance and a little bewilderment that of all the seats and tables in the
near deserted library I could have chosen to sit at I chose the one opposite
her. " Hiya Rebecca. I'm sorry to be a bother, but did you get those
equations in math at all?"
"What do you mean?"
"I just didn't understand how you
get the answer from the question. I'm probably just being thick, but the
workings out didn't seem to take me to the answer that everybody else was
getting."
"Probably,” she laughed. I
was captivated already, I just hoped it didn't show too obviously. "It all
seemed pretty easy to me."
"Could you show me,” I asked,
and pulled out the work that I had done in the class and deliberately got
wrong, having carefully made the same mistake on each of the sample equations
that we had been given.
"Ah, I can see what you've
done..,” She said after she'd studied my work, then she proceeded to
patiently explain to me exactly where I 'd screwed up.
"That's it,” I asked, still
playing my role as class dunce.
"That's it. Easy,” She
exclaimed.
"Well, thanks very much for walking
me through that. I can't afford to screw up this close to the exams. Not with
uni on the line."
And from there the conversation
blossomed. I told her my hopes and ambitions, why math and physics were so
important to my future plans while I worked towards an astrophysics degree, and
she shared her dreams of working in investments and banking, and I bought her a
can of coke from the common room dispensing machine as we wasted the rest of
the afternoon while waiting for the bus home. I helped with her assignment as
best I could, which basically meant that I held her up for a couple of hours,
then when the bus arrived I made a point of sitting beside her on the way home.
As we disembarked at the end of the ten minute journey, I gave her my thanks
once again, then went to walk home. She turned away and headed to her half of
the village without even a backward glance at me, so I did an about face called
out to her.
"Becca, what are you doing
tonight?"
"Why,” She asked suspiciously
as I walked back up to her, setting my bag on the floor between us. " I've
had a good time this afternoon, and I was wondering if you fancied, well, I
don't know.... going out and doing something."
"Are you asking me out,” She
blushed as the bus pulled off noisily.
"Well, yeah. I guess I am. I know
I'm not the greatest catch for a girl, and I won't be at all offended if you
turned me down - I expect you've got much better things to do than waste your
time on me,” I said, and I said it honestly. I'd had dark dreams of
blackmailing her with spreading her secret if she refused to go out with me,
but those ideas were quickly squashed once I'd spent a little time with her. If
it wasn't going to work, then I'd just keep on secretly using her as my
masturbatory muse. I held my breath as I waited for her answer. She seemed to
be weighing me up, unsure which way to lean, then after what felt like an
eternity but were probably just a few seconds she asked; " What you got in
mind?"
I didn't have anything in mind,
actually. My mind was a total blank. " Pictures,” I blurted.
"What's on?"
"I haven't a clue,” I
admitted. And from there it began. That night we caught a movie, and I didn't
even hold her hand as I walked her home from the bus stop. She leaned against
the doorway of her house as I said goodnight, and I hesitantly leaned forward.
Even in the dark I could see her go red, but her eyes fluttered closed and that
was all the invitation that I needed. Our lips touched, and I briefly
entertained the notion of sliding my tongue between her lips, but her mouth
refused to part when I pressed harder so I consciously held ba ck until we
broke apart.
"I'm sorry,” I mumbled.
" It just happened. I couldn't help myself."
"I'll see you tomorrow,” She
murmured, then she opened her door and disappeared inside. It slammed behind
her. I ran home through the dark alley that bordered the allotments and the
backs of the houses, not caring if I trod in dog shit as I bombed through the
lane. I kicked off my shoes in the hallway and poked my head through the living
room door, saying; " Hello, and goodnight,” to my parents who were
up watching something on TV, then I careered up the two flights of stairs to
the loft, threw the window open, and trained my telescope on Becca's bedroom.
All was darkness. Obviously she was still downstairs, so I waited impatiently.
It took about ten minutes, but soon Rebecca's room was bathed in the yellow
glow from the landing as she went in and then the room lit up as she turned on
the light. I saw her walk past her desk, still wearing the jeans and black top
that she had worn to the cinema with me and my cock jerked alive when she
slowly lifted the black silk garment over her head, her back turned to me. I
saw her back split horizontally by the white line of her bra strap, and then
she turned out the lights. With no street lighting at the backs of the houses
everything was pitch dark, and after ten minutes I realised that she had gone
to sleep and wouldn't be turning on her PC for some anonymous roleplay. I
didn't know whether to feel disappointed or not. On the one hand I would have
loved to see her feeling herself up after being so close to her all night, but
on the other hand I was happy that the one kiss we had shared was enough to
send her to sleep and possibly fuel her own fantasies. Perhaps she was even
rubbing herself beneath the sheets in the darkness. I closed the window, crept
down to my room, and dreamed of Rebecca.
I made myself deliberately late for the
bus the next day, making sure that everybody else had got on while I ran to
catch it, last aboard. I caught her eye as I showed my pass