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By:Lulu Pratt & Simone Sowood

I know I shouldn't watch, and I tell myself to get back to the game, because I shouldn't even be interested in seeing Harper get naked. But I am. I move a little closer to my window and watch her as she wriggles and squirms, pulling the fabric over her head, revealing her panties and bra. Goddamn. Harper is practically spilling out of her bra, and as she reaches around to her back, I'm already almost mentally begging to see what she looks like without it.

I get my answer in less than a minute. Harper unhooks her bra and slides the straps down her shoulders, and then tosses it aside. Her back is still to the window.

"God, take the panties off too. Take them off." I'm already starting to get hard, my cock coming to life in my pants. Somewhere along the way, Harper hasn't just become more mature, she's also got a terrific-looking ass and a killer rack to go with it. It's all on display for me right there, without her even knowing.

Of course, I know she's probably not going to take off the panties. She's probably going to put pajamas on over them, or something like that. I hold my breath anyway, watching her take her hair down, seeing it fall past her shoulders. My cock gets harder, and I can feel all the blood pooling in my hips while I wait to see if Harper's going to get naked.

She hooks her thumbs in the waistband of the tiny, lacy panties she's wearing and tugs them down over her hips. There's no part of her I can't see. She bends over, her back still to the window, not even aware of me sitting there watching her right across the yard. It's all I can do not to run downstairs, dash across the yard, and break into the Polsens' house to go up to her room and ask if she wants a little help.

The next moment, though, she's not at the window anymore and I groan. She's gone, and either she's getting in the shower, or putting more clothes on again. The magic spell, for the time being, is over. But I can't get the sight of her out of my head.

I try to turn my attention back onto the game, but the sight of Harper's hot, firm ass plays through my mind. I figure if I wait it out long enough, my erection will go away. But the longer I play the computer the more certain I am that I'm going to have to take care of myself.

I turn off the PlayStation after a while and start stripping off my clothes. My cock is straining at the front of my boxers, and I can feel it throbbing. The only thing I can think about is the sight of Harper naked, only yards away from me. Before I know it I'm imagining what it would have been like if I'd followed through with my instinct to run over there.

I picture her looking at me in shock and that smile I saw her give me a few times during the day. She's hesitant at first, but she moves closer to me, and I take my boxers off. I wrap my hand around my erect cock and stroke myself slowly, imagining it's Harper's hand instead of mine, that she's touching me. No, no, she'd be hesitant at first. I smirk to myself.

I imagine Harper sinking to her knees and looking up at me, nervous but eager, and wrapping her lips around me. Taking the head first and then slowly sucking more of me into her mouth. My hand starts moving faster on my cock, and I tighten my grip as I think about her mouth on me, her hand at the base of my erection. I imagine her finding her rhythm and taking me gradually deeper and deeper, until she can't anymore, and backing off a little bit.

My little fantasy deepens, and I look across the way, hoping to catch some sight of Harper, but she's not back in the window, at least not that I can see. I imagine pulling her onto her feet, letting my hands wander over her body, teasing her while she moans and squirms from how hot and ready she is for me.

I imagine laying her down on her own bed, pinning her there, claiming her tits with my mouth, one after the other, stroking her soft skin, feeling her respond to my touch and then her hot, wet pussy. My hand starts moving faster on my dick as I think about thrusting into her, taking her all at once and feeling her hot, wet center clamp down on me. I groan, closing my eyes tighter and picturing her, imagining the sensation of her tighten around my cock, her hips moving to take me deeper.

I try to hold myself back as I get more and more into the little fantasy of Harper, but I can't help feeling more and more turned on imagining having sex with her. She's so hot and seeing her naked made it impossible not to think of what it would be like with her. Before I know it, I am right on the edge.

I groan out as I come, shooting off onto my abs. It hits me hard, harder than the last time I came with a woman even. I keep shooting off, barely able to contain it, until I'm shaking a little bit from the force of it all. I lean back in my chair panting and gasping.

When I look over at Harper's window again, the lights are off. Whatever else she did after taking off her clothes, I certainly hadn't seen it, and there wouldn't be any more to see.



In spite of how tired I was when I finally got up to my room, I feel restless now lying in bed. I'd stripped off my clothes and thought about taking a shower, but settled instead for just cleaning the make-up off my face and brushing my teeth and hair.

My mind is spinning with everything that I have going on. I have the big project waiting for me back in the city. A major novel by a famous author, and I'm the one in charge of it. I'm the one whose name is going to appear as the editor. I'm the one who's going to get listed in the acknowledgements.

But that's not all that's on my mind as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. I can't stop thinking about Zane, and that fact, all on its own, is enough to drive me nuts. Of all the people in the whole world to catch the hots for, it has to be him? I think about the sight of him up on the ladder, tacking down the strings of lights for the party. I think about the lean muscle rippling under his skin, at his arms. The times his shirt rode up and I could see his abs.

I toss and turn in bed, not sure whether worrying about my first major book project or thinking about how hot Zane is is the worst thing. I turn over again and notice there's light coming from the house next door. I realize that I left my curtains open - I'd changed just like I normally do in my apartment, but there the blinds are never open.

I tell myself that there's no way that Zane saw me. He probably wasn't even in his room yet, probably still downstairs talking to his parents or something. But I'm still naked, and I don't want to risk being seen getting dressed in the morning, so because I'm not falling asleep anytime soon, I get up out of bed.   


Before I can close my curtains, though, I see him. Zane, I hope, can't see me, since I've turned the lights off in my room to try to get to sleep, but I can see him plain as day. He's naked, and for a moment all I do is stand there and stare, he's just as lean, just as muscular, as I had thought.

And then I notice what he's doing. His hand is wrapped around his thick, fully hard cock. His eyes are closed, and I watch, fascinated, as he strokes himself steadily, his thumb and forefinger really working the tip. Heat washes through me and I can't even remember the last time I wanted to be in the same room as someone else as much as I do right now.

Normally the idea of a guy jerking off doesn't really appeal to me. It seems so crass, so gross in some way, but watching Zane work himself with his hand, I can almost hear him moaning and it makes me instantly wet.

I feel more than a little guilty watching him, but at the same time a little voice in the back of my mind asks the question, is he getting himself off because that's a thing that guys do, or is it because he saw something? And if he saw me, is he getting himself off because he thought I was hot? As hot as I think he is right now?

Almost on their own, my hands start moving over my body. I imagine Zane's hands instead of mine, tweaking my nipples and rolling them slowly, sending little tingling jolts of pleasure right to my pussy. I feel the tightness deep down between my hips, feel my muscles flexing and my knees feel wobbly in a way they haven't in ages.

I pull a chair over to my window as quickly as I can and sit down, still watching Zane playing with himself in spite of how guilty I feel. "God, I'm sick," I mutter to myself, even as one of my hands slips between my legs to start sliding along my folds. What would it even be like to have sex with him? I'd heard the usual rumors from girls at school. But that had been years ago, and besides, I never trusted rumors.

I imagine a stupid fantasy, something out of a bad porn, of going up to Zane's room and asking him if he'd like a little help. Even as I shake my head at how corny the idea is, I'm pressing my fingers deeper, finding my clit by touch. Just the lightest brush of my fingertips against the little bead of nerves is enough to make me instantly hotter, instantly wetter, and I let the fantasy play out in my head without even questioning it.

Zane's shocked to see me there naked, but he gets over it pretty quickly. After all, what guy wouldn't? I imagine wrapping my fingers around his erection and starting slow, working up and down while I marvel at the girth of him, the length. I imagine Zane kissing me, dipping down to my breasts, claiming one and then the other with his lips and tongue even as he slips one hand between my legs to feel the warmth and wetness there.

I slide two fingers inside myself and press my lips together to smother the moan that rises in my throat. Zane's fingers would be thicker, longer, probing me harder, but it's good enough for now, especially with my thumb swirling around my pleasure center. Especially with the sight of Zane getting closer and closer to his own climax only feet away from me. I'm soaking wet, so slippery that suddenly it's easy to think of how Zane's cock would fit inside, no matter how tight I am.