“What are you doing?” I whisper to the window.
Her hands slide over her breasts and my cock hardens at the sight of her. When her head tilts back, I know she’s enjoying the feel of her own skin, and I wonder if she’s thinking of me. She glances out her window, looking right at my room. My light is off so I know she can’t see me, but she’s looking. Is she hoping I’m watching? Is she hoping to see me too? Well, I’m watching, sexy girl, so give me a show. She knows her curtains are open. She knows someone might see her. Luckily, Sam’s room is on the other side of the house. She must know that, right? Did she come into my room? I picture her in here, looking through my things, rubbing herself against something that she thinks I might smell. Grinding against my pillow.
Probably not, but the fantasy brings my body to life. I watch her touching, rubbing herself and I reach into my boxers, taking myself in my hand and start to rub. She turns her back to me. I can just see the swell of her hips but nothing below. From this angle it looks as though she’s not wearing panties. She reaches behind her back, unhooking her bra. It drops to the ground.
I’m fully erect, my cock so hard it aches. I jerk it harder, resting my other hand on the windowsill to hold myself up. She’s doing something with her hand in front of her. Has it slipped between her legs? I don’t know, but again, I tell myself that’s what she’s doing. Beating faster, I’m almost there, my breath rushing from my lungs, balls tightening. It’s coming, that pressure, the buildup before the explosion. Stroking, stroking, until finally release.
I lean against the edge of the window, trying to catch my breath. After cleaning up the mess, I watch her until she puts on her nightgown and the light goes off, then I flop back in bed and finally fall asleep.
Last night while I was in my room I felt as though I were being watched. I don’t know if it was Deacon, but I hope it was. I made sure to stand exactly where I knew he’d be able to see me. If I’d have known for sure, I would’ve shown him more skin. But on the off chance I was facing Sam’s room, I didn’t want to come off vulgar. The curtains were just open enough to where it might’ve looked like they came apart by mistake, and I didn’t make it entirely obvious I was touching myself. Just hinted at it.
The thought of being watched was so thrilling. I’ve never been that reckless before. It felt good.
Unable to sleep well since Deacon moved back in next door, I go downstairs, sit at the kitchen, swirling cream and sugar into my coffee. I can’t stop thinking about him and how close we came to kissing. What more could’ve happened between us had Sam not walked in? Much more, I’m sure. We might’ve even gone for the gold, having wild, passionate sex right there in Sam’s house. He would’ve lost his mind had that happened. I can’t help but laugh when picturing his red face, blood pressure boiling over as he walked in on us, the scent of our lovemaking filling the air.
I still can’t believe Deacon’s into me. All those years pining for him, picturing what it would be like to be with him, fantasizing about him falling in love with me. Then he moved away and I lost all hope. After he left I went on a few dates with boys my own age. I even liked one of them. His name was Trevor. He was tall with dirty blonde hair and light green eyes. He could’ve been Deacon at a younger age, they were so similar in looks. He liked me too and the relationship was going somewhere. He would climb the side of my house and sneak into my room nearly every night just to make out, never pushing me to go further than I wanted to. We talked about traveling to Europe after graduation, and he was exciting. Played lacrosse and rode dirt bikes. So different from me. I was a home body. I liked homework and reading and fantasizing about things most girls my age never really thought about, like having a family and settling down.
I thought maybe an adventure was what I needed. How would I really know what I wanted from my future unless I got out and experienced other things?
One night, at a party, Trevor and I almost went all the way. We were kissing, fondling each other. Our clothes were off. He lay on top of me, rubbing against me and it felt amazing. I was even excited to lose my virginity. At the time I thought that’s what made a girl a woman, and I really wanted to be a woman.
But just as we were about to take our relationship to the next step, I thought about Deacon. In my head it was Deacon’s hands all over me, his lips kissing me, his body against mine. I felt so guilty because not once did I ever think about Trevor during that time. It wasn’t fair to him, to be thinking about another man while we were about to have sex for the first time. I stopped him from going any further and ended up breaking up with him the next day. The entire reason our relationship even existed in the first place was because he looked like Deacon. It was wrong. The whole thing was just messed up. That was a year ago and I’ve been single ever since.