Rear Window

byCharles Petersunn©

This story concerns primarily voyeurism and exhibitionism, the section in which it was placed. However, there is also a quality of first time. It was based in part on personal experience, as well as fantasy. Both characters in this story, Leon and Patricia, are at least eighteen years old. I hope you enjoy their story!

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Leon B. Jeffries planned to someday be a professional photographer.

Ever since he was a little boy he enjoyed taking photographs, and by the time he was sixteen he had even won a couple of awards, as well as having a few pictures published. They weren't published in any professional magazine or journal, just the local newspaper, the Bayview Star. But, still, his parents were very proud of him.

For his eighteenth birthday they awarded him an EOS 7D SLR digital camera, with an array of extra lenses. He had special lenses with which to obtain close-ups of flowers and insects, and telephoto lenses to capture from great distances the images of rare birds and wary beasts. The EOS 7D included an 18.0 megapixel APS-C size CMOS sensor and dual DIGIC 4 image processors. It could capture images up to ISO 12800 and speeds up to 8 fps.

Leon was ecstatic. He immediately left the house with his prize to scour the neighborhood for exotic bugs, flowers, and birds, his favorite subjects. He really enjoyed nature pictures. Of course, there really wasn't that much to shoot within the immediate confines of his parents' home within the Bayview suburb. But, that did not by any means dampen Leon's enthusiasm.

The camera was still in his hand as he prepared for bed. He couldn't put it down. He kept looking around his room for something else to capture, to commit to permanent imagery for all time to come.

But, naturally, there was even less within his room than within his neighborhood. Close-ups of his underwear or a half-drunk glass of cola were unlikely to win him any awards.

Then he saw it, against his window, a very large, lime-green Luna moth. She had landed right on the pane, gripping the smooth slick glass, its stunning, colorful wings softly slowly waving in the dark light of the night.

Leon carefully aimed his lens at the stunning insect, getting close-ups of its eyespots, its feathery antenna, and its long twisting tail. Its full 5-inch wingspan, silhouetted against the blackness of the evening sky, was really quite striking.

But, almost as quickly as it had arrived, it flew away, leaving only the shadowy darkness behind.

Leon though quickly uploaded the images into his computer to study more closely what he had captured.

He was pleased, albeit not impressed. The window pane was a bit dirty and smeared. Plus, the background was not as dark as he would have liked. There was in fact a distant blurry bright image just to the left of the moth.

He played with the picture for quite a while, isolating the bright spot on the screen, blowing it up, and then using various filters and processors to further distill, clarify, and sharpen the focus.

After considerable time and effort, along with an equally impressive degree of skill, Leon was eventually pleased with the outcome. The image was of the bedroom window across the backyards of both his parents' and his neighbors' homes. Within the window could be seen the silhouette of the head and shoulders of a girl, apparently peering out into the night sky. Leon felt she complemented the moth rather nicely, although he really couldn't explain why.

He looked out his window. The moth was, of course, still gone, and so was the light across the two backyards.

The next night he found himself sitting by the window, waiting, purportedly for the moth to return.

The moth though never arrived, not surprisingly. But, Leon did eventually see the light go on in the bedroom. His heart lit up as well and he reached for his camera.

He aimed his telephoto lens across the space of the two backyards, into the light of the bedroom window.

He couldn't see much of the room. He could though clearly see a chair. It was apparently just a couple of feet from the window. It sat before a dresser that was to his right. In the background was the bedroom door, which was closed.

It really wasn't that interesting, but somehow it captivated his attention.

He shifted the camera to the left. There was a second window, but its curtains were closed.

He went back to the open window and studied the chair for a while, but there was really nothing to see. It was just a standard wooden straight back chair. He watched for some time, but nothing was happening. Still, he did have to smile. He was actually peeking into someone's window. There was something quite exciting, even a little pleasing, about that. He snapped a picture, albeit wondering what the heck he would actually do with it.

He scanned with his camera in other directions, looking for additional windows in other houses. Perhaps he might come upon a crime in process! Now, that would be quite the picture. Clearly he would win a reward for that. But, he was largely met with just darkness, trees, and street lights.

He lowered the camera. He looked around. His room didn't really offer much of a vantage point into his neighbors' homes, as the perspective left and right was blocked by trees. His only option was really the Hemmings' home, directly behind his parents' house.

From his vantage point he could see into their kitchen and dining rooms, on the first floor, and what appeared to be a bedroom and bathroom on the second floor. He assumed the window on the far right of the house was a bathroom because it was just a single window with blinds rather than curtains. Of course, a bedroom could have blinds as well. He didn't really know.

His eyes though were quickly drawn back to the window with the opened curtains. The girl had returned.

Leon immediately recognized her. Of course, it was Patricia! Patricia Hemming. He hadn't thought about her in years.

They had been good friends when they were little, very little. That was really so many, many years ago. He could barely remember. He did recall hunting for caterpillars and butterflies with her. He had enjoyed that.

So, this was apparently Patricia's bedroom? Actually, he just realized, he should have known that. At one time he had known that. He had played in that very room when they were kids. He smiled at the memory, as weak as it was. They had played these silly little board games, like Chutes and Ladders, Battleship, and the Game of Life. She always giggled when one of them got married and had children. He laughed when they got to turn the offspring in for cash towards the end of the game. He recalled as well playing dress-up. He hadn't enjoyed that game so much.

He couldn't recall exactly when they were no longer friends. They just sort of stopped playing with each other. It might have had something to do with her dolls. He never could get into that. It could have also been her dress-up parties. That was even worse than the dolls. In any case, they just drifted apart. It was perhaps only natural for such a thing to happen for a boy and a girl growing up.

Leon could see that Patricia had indeed grown up, and out. Of course, that should be no surprise. She was eighteen now, like himself. He focused the lens. She was apparently getting ready for bed. She was in her pajamas, orange ones, all covered with colorful butterflies. He smiled, and clicked the shutter.

He felt a little guilty about that. He was kind of invading her privacy. Of course, it wasn't like she was naked or anything. She was just sitting there, in front of her vanity mirror, brushing her hair. She had short wavy red hair. He wondered why girls brushed their hair so much, and he certainly didn't understand why she was doing it before bed. It wasn't like she was going to see anyone before she went to bed. Plus, her hair would just get messed up in bed. Girls can be such a mystery.

Now she was putting some sort of lotion or cream on her face. He felt even more guilty about watching her do that. She clearly wouldn't like him noticing her putting on facial lotion. It looked kind of personal. He didn't take a picture of that.

He wondered if she would mind him seeing her in her pajamas. He had seen a lot more of her when they were little kids, trying on the outfits from her parents' closet. But, of course, it was much different then, and much different now.

His eyes went to the curve of her breasts. She did look rather nice in that pajama top. He zoomed in even closer, so that just her breasts were within the frame. He liked how the butterflies' wings curved around her curves. His penis swelled and he clicked the shutter. It wasn't the most erotic picture he would have within his collection. He had quite a few that he had downloaded from the internet. But this one was certainly among the most nostalgic and sentimental: Patricia was now all grown up.

Patricia got up from the seat and moved out of sight of the window.

Leon waited for her to return. He waited for quite some time. But it never happened, and then the light in her room went out.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Leon got up early the next day, real early. He did so ostensibly to get some pictures of the sunrise, and early morning insects. Early morning light is less harsh than midday, and insects can look particularly exotic when sprinkled with morning dew. Plus, some insects won't (or can't) fly away until the dew evaporates, so they make for more patient models.

But, as he got dressed Leon did find himself repeatedly checking through his window across the backyards. He checked so often that he wondered if this was in fact the real reason he got up so early. Well, if it had been then he was sorely disappointed, as there was nothing to see. Not surprisingly, perhaps, Patricia was not an early riser. He waited for quite some time. The sun though did eventually rise and once it did it wasn't that easy to see into her room.

However, that night he was ready, or at least he was in his room well in advance of any possible show, if he could, or should, really call it that. He was in fact getting a bit excited about it, not that he expected anything really interesting to happen. It was just an innocent sort of game, a new game with Patricia.

He passed the time as he waited for her light to come on by working on his computer image collection: cutting, cropping, erasing, transporting, coloring, edging, and so forth. It was amazing how much one could improve a picture via the digital software that was now available. In fact, he became so engrossed with one of his early morning dragonfly pictures that the time had escaped him, and he suddenly realized that Patricia's light had been turned on, for how long he did not know.

He grabbed his camera and zeroed in on her window.

But, there was nothing there, other than her chair, the vanity dresser, and the door.

It was rather disappointing after all that time waiting, after all the excited anticipation. Of course, he shouldn't really have expected anything to happen. What would really happen in a girl's bedroom window?

Still, he continued to wait patiently, his charged expectation not diminished by the actual dullness of the scene. He was reminded of the time he waited and waited for a monarch to land on his mother's butterfly bush. The level of anticipation was much higher now, but at least then he was occasionally rewarded by the arrival of an interesting insect. Absolutely nothing was happening here.

Time continued to pass and he eventually wondered if he had ever been more bored. He was essentially waiting for time to pass, staring at nothing, hearing nothing, doing nothing. He must have wasted an entire hour of his life. Of course, an hour is not that much time relative to a lifetime. He had at least learned that this had not been a good idea. He checked his watch. It had been only twenty minutes.

'Whoa!'

There she was, or at least momentarily. It had been only a brief moment, but it was quite the moment. Leon's only regret was that he had not taken a picture, which was rather surprising for him, as he was typically quite skilled at getting the fleeting shot. His photographic reflexes were pretty sharp. But, this time the image had been so shocking, so mesmerizing that he had actually failed to click the shutter.

Leon's heart had suddenly raced with Patricia's appearance. She had walked by in her underwear, just long enough to pick up something from her dresser and then return to wherever she had been before. She had been so fucking sexy! She had been wearing a light orange cotton brassiere and bikini panty set, embroidered with darker orange flowers and paisley swirls.

Leon had never imagined Patricia ever wearing anything like that. Well, of course, he had never imagined it when he knew her as a little kid. But, even today, he had not been anticipating that. Well, maybe he had been hoping for something along those lines, in the back of his mind, outside of his consciousness, perhaps feeling too guilty and shameful if he consciously acknowledged what he had been waiting for. And, when it finally arrived he was just so surprised and stunned. He had almost fallen out of his chair trying to get the camera focused. He missed the shot.

'Please, please, please,' he kept saying to her, or at least to himself. 'Please come back.' His dick swelled with suspense.

And, this time he didn't have to wait long. She soon returned. He quickly took a series of full frontal pictures as she turned to get into her chair, which was actually unfortunate in one respect because as she took her seat at the mirror her panties were no longer in view. However, the view that remained was still awfully nice. Plus, he could review the pictures of her standing by her chair when the show was over.

There was something terribly appealing about seeing a girl in her brassiere, particularly when she is innocent to the observation. It was just so naughty, so mischievous, so licentious. He was feeling terribly guilty, yet also so fucking horny and excited. Her boobs looked so full and round, and so flirtatiously decorated with the orange flowery undergarment. He just couldn't get over how well Patricia had grown into the cups of her brassiere. He wondered what other brassieres she might own.

His dick swelled to full erection within his slacks. He considered taking his cock out to jerk off to the sight, but he could not bring himself to do such a thing. It would clearly be so wrong, if not downright perverse. Plus, he was unlikely to be able to keep the camera still and focused if he was jerking off with his right hand, or even with his left. The next time he would set up the tripod.

'Oh my!'

Patricia was reaching back to unclasp her brassiere. Leon's cock got rock fucking hard within his pants. Yes, perhaps he should look away, but what self-respecting young man would do so at a moment like this? And, besides, what Patricia didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He would never embarrass her by revealing the fact, or showing her the pictures. He most definitely wouldn't post them on one of those "ex-girlfriend" web sites. He vowed at this moment, swearing with all his heart, that he would respect her privacy, as the straps of her brassiere began to slip from those pale delicate feminine shoulders.

The anticipation was severe. His heart pounded, his breathing rushed, his eyes focused as tightly as they could.

Once the straps were off both shoulders Patricia withdrew the cups from her breasts.

They came into the light of the room, the sight of Patricia's young yet truly womanly breasts. Leon's cock wanted a hand on it so fucking bad.

Patricia did not have tremendously large boobs, and he could primarily see just one, and that one from the side, but it was nevertheless a sight to behold. Her breast was so round, so full, so firm, so perky. It stood out from her chest like a proud snow peak, capped by a pointy little tower sitting within the middle of a small pool of round red flesh. This was Leon's first real live boob, and for a moment he even forgot to take a picture, but he quickly made up for that, snapping a series.

Patricia appeared to be massaging her breast. Leon couldn't tell precisely what she was doing but he suspected she was rubbing out the soreness of her straps, or something. It was so adorable how her boob was so soft, pliant, springy, and bouncy. He was very jealous of her hand, albeit very, very pleased, and grateful, to at least be a witness to the handiwork. He would have to do something for her, something to show his gratitude. Perhaps a present from an anonymous admirer?

She momentarily stopped the massage to reach for something on her dresser, the breast giving a wiggle as she did so, like a little excited puppy wondering what she was getting. She retrieved some sort of ointment from a jar. She began to apply the lotion to her breasts, rubbing it in all around, her boobs bouncing, jiggling and squishing, and they becoming all silky smooth and shiny. She appeared to pay particular attention to her nipples. She even squeezed and pinched them, getting the one within Leon's sight so very stiff and pointy, reminding him of what on his own body was also very stiff and pointy.

Patricia leaned her head back a bit, her eyes half closing, taking deep breaths, her boobs rising and falling with each breath, as she continued to massage the lotion into her soft, bubbly boobs.

Leon continued to take his pictures. This was now a very personal and private scene, but could she really expect him to look away? Would any other boy look away?

She did though eventually stop, returning the lid to the jar, her breasts heaving with apparent excitement. She got up, a bit unsteady, bracing herself with her hands on the back of the chair, looking a little confused, a little agitated.

'Take off your panties,' Leon said to himself, 'Please, pull them down.' Maybe girls put lotion down there as well? That would be extremely cool to see.

She reached for her panties as she stood by the chair, but then stopped. She looked in the mirror, at her reflection. She bit her lower lip and then turned way, retreating out of sight of the open window.

Leon was sorely disappointed but he was at least treated to the sight of Patricia's little perky round bottom so sweetly wrapped within the orange flowered cotton as it scampered away, out of sight. He got some nice pictures of that. Soon thereafter the light within the room switched off, the show apparently over.

Nary a subsequent evening went by that Leon was not perched on the edge of his chair, an eye glued to his telephoto lens, the camera now mounted on a tripod.

The show did not vary tremendously each night, but Leon was never bored or disappointed, at least when she appeared in the window, in her undies.

He looked forward each evening to discover what undies Patricia had been wearing that day. She most definitely appeared to have quite a collection. There were pink thongs, red satin bikini panties, violet lace bikini, pastel lace bikini, lime green bikini, pastel boy shorts, black thongs, and a variety of traditional white cotton, but even these were invariably adorned with various bows, lace trim, or gaily colored with stripes, polka dots, or paisley swirls. Some of them were sprinkled with equally colorful little animals, tasty deserts, flowers, or, much to Leon's delight, butterflies. She had lots of panties with butterflies. He wondered if their childhood mutual interest had contributed to that particular selection.

No matter what undies she wore though she wore them well. There really should be an underwear only day. If girls are wearing such pretty things beneath their clothes why do they want to hide them? Well, the answer to that was clear. He wasn't being really serious, but it would just be so cool. His friends told him that there was a bar at the University of Iowa that had a female undies night. Any girl arriving only in her underwear would get in free. He would have to assume that they got free drinks too. He would drive all the way to Iowa City to experience such an event if not for the fact that he was below the drinking age. Of course, that would also include most of the undergraduates at the college. He wondered how many of the patrons were undergraduates. It might be worth the trip just to hang around outside.

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