Peeping the neighbour milf

It felt so… naughty. Does this make me a pervert? Does it mean I’m depraved? The muscles of my belly were tense and I barely breathed.

My family moved into a new house, about six months ago. After I had settled into my new room, I had discovered that from my window I can see straight into the bedroom of the neighboring house. The sole occupant of the residence was a man, about thirty, thirty five or so. And, well, he’s my subject of perversion.

I diligently observed the brightly lit square from between my thick curtains. I noticed the light come on from across the gap between our houses about ten minutes ago. I had scrambled to my bedroom door, turned the lock and checked it several times to ease the anxiety burning my throat. Peering through the miniscule opening in the curtains, I finally saw him.

His tan bronzed skin was covered in sheen, his red t-shirt darkened at the collar. He must have been working out. I fisted the drapes in excitement – that meant he would be taking a shower soon. I watched as he ran a hand through his damp, dark, hair and stretched his arms for a moment before disappearing from my view. His figure reappeared shortly in the backdrop of light, walking back and forth a few times, while, I can only assume, gathering his showering necessities.
I watched as he reached for the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up, followed by his undershirt, to reveal his firm abdomen. When his hand moved to the waist of his sweatpants, I did the same, tugging my panties down my thighs and cupping my warm mound.
His boxers came off, and, as always, I stared. I was somewhat disappointed to see that his cock was limp, but maybe later I would get to see it harden in his hand, bathed in the dim light of the T.V as he watched one of his favorite porn videos. I massaged my pussy a little.
A towel was thrown over his muscled shoulder and fresh clothes were laid on the bed. He walked through the bathroom door and out of my sight.

I collapsed onto the floor beneath the window, my hands thrown over my face.

His name is Damien.

And I… I’m only nineteen. He’s thirty- something! I can’t believe how weird this is. I remember when my family first moved in and my mom invited him to have dinner with us. I hadn’t heard much about him, only that he was ‘a pleasant man, works in an office a few blocks from the bank,’ according to my father. Of course, I didn’t bother to style my hair or wear a nice outfit. I regret it now.

He probably thinks I’m just a quiet, shy, plain girl. I’ve been seeing him a lot more since summer break started. My mother volunteered me a few times to help him around the house, since he lives all alone. I always try to look pretty, but not excessively so. I don’t think he really notices, though.

A faint sound alerted me to Damien’s return. I reassumed my position at the window and gripped each side of the curtain to part it inconspicuously and look through. My window was open, and so was his, so there was no glass to obstruct my clear view. He seemed to have dried off in the bathroom and was now getting dressed. I sighed contently and reached down to stroke gently at my swollen clitoris. I pulled up my camisole and rubbed my perky dark nipples against the velvety drapes. Soft moans escaped my throat and I almost hoped Damien would hear me. The thought both thrilled and terrified me.

Damien stood shirtless at his collection of DVDs, most likely selecting a porn film to watch. I flicked my fingers quickly across my clit and moaned a little louder. I wanted him! Damien turned away from his DVDs and walked toward the window, affording me a closer view of the dark covering of hair on his broad chest. He stopped, his entire body going still, and then took another step closer to look out of his window. I tightened my hold on the curtain, my heart speeding up from my coming orgasm and from how close he was.

“Samantha?”

I gasped and desperately attempted to tug the curtain closed, only to pull too hard and have it dislodge completely from the window frame.

Damien looked right at me, my shirt pulled up over my breasts and my panties tangled around my feet along with the fallen drapery. He looked shocked… and probably furious that I had been spying on him… God!

I fell to the floor and tried to hide, too scared to apologize or explain. I stayed curled up on the floor for several long minutes, trying to calm my heart rate and cool my cheeks.
When I finally worked up the courage to take a peek, I saw that Damien was gone and the lights were turned off. Sudden fear gripped my throat when I realized he could be coming over right now to tell my parents… to tell them that their only daughter had been watching him for who knows how long. The thought had me jumping up and tugging on clothes. I ran to the staircase and peeped over the railing. My mother was in the dining room, setting four places for dinner. She noticed me at the top of the stairs and called to me.

“Samantha, go get dressed. Damien is coming for dinner in a little while.” Panic fluttered in my belly and I ran down, almost tripping and falling in my clumsy haste.

“Um, you know what, Mom, I feel a little sick. I don’t think I want eat anything tonight.”My mother turned around and placed a hand on her hip.

“You don’t look sick,” she pressed a hand to my forehead. “And you don’t have to eat too much, but it would be rude to not show up. Damien’s been very nice to us, helping us out with yard work and such. Show a little respect, Samantha.” She turned back around to continue fixing up, signaling the end of the conversation.

I made my way back up to my room, dread settling heavily over me. He wouldn’t mention it at dinner, not while we were all eating – would he?

Back in my room, I sat for a moment on my bed, staring anxiously at the fallen curtains. I suppose I may as well make an effort to look somewhat pretty. I pulled on a simple white dress falling a bit above my knees. It looked charming against my pale skin, sweet and clean… as opposed to how perverse I felt on the inside. I brushed out my dark honey shaded hair and turned around in the mirror, trying to dissipate my nervousness.

A knock at the door caught my attention and I considered giving my mother one last argument to not come down. I gripped the knob, parted my lips, and opened the door.

Damien was smiling down at me, his hand resting on the door frame. I felt warm all of a sudden.

“Hey, your mother said it’s time to come down.” he said, his tone casual, as if the last half hour had not occurred. Hopefully he didn’t notice the still tangled drapery. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I nodded mutely, desperately avoiding his brown eyes. He turned to walk down the stairs and I closed my eyes, thankful that he hadn’t mentioned my… misbehavior. I took small steps behind him, observing his dark blue jeans and black button up. He was so handsome.

~O~

I fidgeted at the table, having no desire to consume any food. Damien sat next to me, like he always does during his visits, across from my parents. So far there was no mention of my peeping and it was almost time for dessert, so there was a chance I could get away without Damien saying anything. I focused on that one hope and snuck glances at him from the corner of my eye.

My mother rose from the table and began collecting our dishes before heading to the kitchen to retrieve our desserts. My father followed to assist her, leaving me alone with Damien. An awful tightness formed in my chest.

I sat rigidly, my hands folded in my lap. Damien was silent for a moment before placing his large hand on my thigh and squeezing lightly.

“How long have you been watching me?” His voice was soft and husky; his thumb stroked the skin above my knee.

I swallowed hard, struck silent by his gentle touching. I flicked my eyes up at him cautiously and saw his lips pulled into a small grin. He rubbed circles on my skin beneath the hem of my dress.

“Since… since we moved here.” My tongue was heavy and I felt stupid and childish. His hand moved up and down my inner thigh. I gripped the edges of my seat desperately.

“Hmm… well, aren’t you a mischievous girl? I never expected this from you, Samantha. Always so sweet, so quiet.” He chuckled lightly and leaned toward me. I felt faint at his close proximity.

“You have no idea how hard my cock was after I saw you standing there, half naked. You have such a cute little pussy, Samantha.” My entire body was hot; his musky cologne, his hand on my skin, oh God…

Damien’s hand suddenly pulled away from my thigh and I looked up to see my mother and father walk in, each of them carrying two plates of cheesecake. A slice was set before me with a fork by my mother. I felt nervous and jumpy. Hoping to escape as quickly as possible, I set to work on my cake, trying my damn best not think of Damien next to me. He looked so calm, betraying nothing of our previous conversation.

About halfway through dessert, I felt Damien’s hand on my thigh again. I lowered my eyes and saw his fingers trailing up my skin towards my panties. My back stiffened and I forced myself to breath slowly and inconspicuously. As I raised a forkful of cheesecake to my lips, his fingers began massaging my pussy through the fabric. I reached down to push his hand away, but he gave a rough pinch to the flesh of my inner thigh. I winced slightly, continuing to eat. Damien knew what he was doing – He would tell my secret if I tried to stop him.

My panties were pulled aside and his thumb brushed against my swollen clit. I glanced up at my parents, engaging in conversation with Damien, Damien replying so innocently. I wriggled in my seat a bit, silently begging him to stop. Instead, his fingers began sliding into me. A gasp rose in my throat and I struggled to suppress it. I could feel it, Damien’s fingers slipping in and out, pushing deeply inside me. Blood rushed to my face.

“Samantha, are you alright? You look a little flushed.” My mother was completely unaware of my current molestation – at the hands of a man both she and my father trusted. I felt so dirty.

“Yes, I just feel kind of warm. Don’t worry, I’m not sick.” I managed to keep my voice even.

Damien pressed on my clit, rubbing hard at the hot flesh. I wanted to moan – he was torturing me purposefully. My pussy muscles tightened, and I knew I was going to cum. The constant stroking on my stiff clit continued, wet and slippery, and I pushed lightly against him. My breath caught, my thighs spread wide, and my pussy contracted against Damien’s hand, my muscles squeezing hard as warm cum trickled onto his fingers. I looked down and saw his slick tan digits sliding in and out of my pink hole. The musky spice of his cologne was a drug. He removed his fingers from my panties and softly petted my still quivering little cunt. A quiet sigh escaped my lips; I was grateful now that the torment was over.

“Laura, did you make this cake yourself? It’s absolutely delicious.” Damien’s voice caught my attention and I looked up just in time to see him indulgently sucking on his fingers. The same fingers that had been abusing me beneath the table this entire time.

My face burned.

“Samantha? Goodness, you’re so red!” A cool hand pressed against my hot cheek, but I only saw Damien smirking at me, laughing with his brown eyes.

~O~

I never realized just how cruel Damien could be. He touched me, right in front of my parents! I’m mortified. No one else has ever done that to me – of course, I’ve masturbated before. But this…

At least he isn’t mad at me. He probably isn’t planning on telling my parents because then I can just tell them what he did during dinner. Or would they even believe me? It’s been almost a week since that particular night. I suppose Damien is quite done with me.

I sat at the couch in the living room when my parents came in, dressed up. My mother was in the process of putting on her earrings.

‘Alright, we’re leaving now, Samantha. Do you have the money for food?’ I nodded, not paying much attention.

‘Damien wants you to go over around six to help him with something, okay? I told him you would.’ I started at this new information. I don’t remember hearing about this. Before I could question them further, my mother and father were already out of the door.

Nervousness twisted my insides. It was almost six now, I can’t go over there! Alongside my anxiety, however, grew a sense of excitement. What would he do? What did he want? A new found curiosity overtook my fear. I wanted him to touch me again.

~O~

I stood at Damien’s door working up the courage to press the doorbell. After my parents left I ran up to my room and slipped off my panties. I put on a pretty yellow sundress. Not an incredibly short dress, but… I wanted to make it easier for Damien, if he was intent on…Well… What could he possibly have waiting for me once the door had opened? I just wanted him to see me as the lovely young woman I was. I raised a finger and pushed the tiny button, wanting the anxiety to end.

Damien took a while to appear, and when he did, he didn’t seem as smug as I had expected. He smiled his usual friendly smile and stood back, gesturing me in with a flourish. I liked coming to Damien’s house. It was creatively decorated, but at the same time displayed a messiness that made it comfortable. I expected Damien to at least make a comment on the night of the dinner, but instead he walked past me into the first room, calling for me to follow him.

‘I’m getting rid of some old crap so I can set up a TV and game room. Go through these boxes and see if you want anything, then start putting everything else in those garbage bags. I’ll be back in a little while.’ He nodded to a stack of brown boxes. I noticed with slight annoyance that he didn’t say ‘please’.

I was a bit fazed by the simplicity of the task. I had gotten worked up over nothing. Damien brushed past me and out of the room, leaving me disappointed.

I set to work looking through the boxes of, like Damien said, crap. Most of it was not worth a second glance – old book ends, little figurines, marbles, a couple of puzzles. A Rubik’s cube. I kept that, along with some books. I wasn’t sure how to feel when I reached the final box – relieved, because I could get this over with, or discouraged because I had barely spoken to Damien.

I sifted through more broken watches and a couple of billiards balls until I came across an oblong black box. My interest was piqued; it looked to be a jewelry box. Otherwise the box clearly housed delicate or expensive contents. I pulled off the slim lid and peeked, my eyes captivated by a shiny texture. My heart fluttered.

A silver vibrator. It looked just like the ones I had seen on sex toy websites and in internet porn. It was long, slim, and smooth. I fidgeted with it for a moment, searching for a way to turn it on. I twisted the bottom and it began buzzing in my hand, scaring me a little. I twisted the bottom again and stared at the doorway, listening for any signs of Damien’s return. How long did he say he would be? I contemplated the sleek, beautiful instrument, wondering whether or not I should take it. Damien did, after all, say I could take whatever I wanted. Would he notice? It’s not like he’d go through his trash to see what I took.

I switched the vibrator on again, pleasantly surprised at how quiet it was. I definitely needed one of these, and being the coward I was, didn’t even consider buying my own. I ran it over my hands and couldn’t help but smile at the sensation. I glanced at the door again before rising to tiptoe over and peek out, looking down both ways. I sank to the floor and gripped my treasure in my fingers. Slowly, I directed it beneath the hem of my dress and towards my clitoris, a place I could find easily without looking. All the while I kept my eyes on the door and my ears were ready to detect Damien’s return.

The feeling on my clit was so intense, so much faster and stronger the flicking of my fingers that I was used to. I pressed it hard, increasing the burning tickle, and I felt a jolt low in my belly every few seconds. I didn’t want to cum yet; I knew it would better the longer I waited. Removing the smooth metal rod from my swollen clit, I pushed it between my lips and wiggled it around my wet entrance. I slid it about halfway into myself, enjoying the buzzing inside my pussy.

I heard footsteps. I shoved the vibrator all the way up my pussy, a little painfully, and clamped my legs together. I saw Damien’s shadow on the wall before he appeared at the doorway. I turned myself away, pretending to scan a box of junk.

‘Hey, Samantha. Done?’ I looked over, as if I hadn’t known he was coming. I nodded and smiled.

‘You actually like that kind of stuff?’ My chest tightened, following his gaze to a stack of books by me. ‘Those mystery books aren’t that great. Don’t even know why I bought them. Did you find anything else you liked?’ I shook my head, hoping he wouldn’t notice my current verbal impairment. Thank God the vibrator was so quiet. It was completely silent when it was so deep inside me.

‘Mind helping me clean the living room?’ He smiled and reached a hand towards me. I grabbed it and he yanked me up, hard. Damien put a hand on my arm to steady me, and I was suddenly very aware that the vibrator was slowly sliding out of my pussy. I hadn’t worn any panties. If that vibrator slipped out… Damien and I would both know it.

He walked ahead of me and I took the opportunity to push it further back in, squeezing tightly with my muscles to keep it in place. I walked with tiny steps but caught up to Damien in the living room. He grabbed a broom and began sweeping up tiny shards of glass.

‘One of my dumb friends got drunk last night and knocked over a bunch of my stuff. Be careful, there’s glass everywhere.’ I stood behind the couch, where I could hold the vibrator in without him seeing. ‘Where did your parents buy those champagne glasses, the ones they used on New Year’s?’ Unfortunately, that was not not a yes or no question that I could nod to. I parted my lips, closed them, wet them with my tongue. Damien must have noticed my expression of distress because he gave me an odd look.

‘I – I don’t know…’ My voice wavered, sounding small and choked. I felt a blush coming on.

Damien leaned his broom against the wall, finished sweeping, and slowly made his way over to me. My hands clenched at my sides, and I stood staring back at his scrunched eyebrows.

‘You okay?’ He studied me much too carefully for my comfort. I nodded, but I felt the hard metal stroking against my lips, slipping out. My pussy muscles ached from squeezing the vibrator so hard. I needed to get away, desperately; I was wet and I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I felt Damien’s hand on my chin. He asked me if I needed to sit down. My thighs were tightly pressed together, holding the rod in, but it wasn’t going to hold for long. I needed to cum so bad. Damien was tilting my face up; He looked worried. I jerked my face from his hand and stepped back without thinking. The second I parted my legs, the slippery vibrator slid out of my pussy and clattered to the floor, leaving me without an orgasm.

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