Rear Window

He then realized that his expectations, his fantasies, were really getting out of hand. All he had done was take some pictures of her. It wasn't like they were dating. He went downstairs to get a cola, and then returned to his room. He worked on some of the bug pictures he had taken the other day, getting his mind off Patricia.

Maybe he should even stop looking through her window. He was getting kind of obsessed over her, to the point of even following her around. Yeah, the more he thought about it, the weirder it sounded. He only glanced occasionally at her window as he worked on his pictures.

But, when her light came on he immediately turned his head.

Patricia strolled into the room, wearing the sweater and skirt she had been wearing earlier. Leon's cock instinctively swelled. So much for his resolve to stop peeping. It's just so hard to take a position contrary to one's erection.

He quickly picked up the camera, mounted it on the tripod, checked the focus, and then snapped a few pictures. He unzipped his slacks and pulled out his stiffening cock. He vowed though not to get obsessed with her. He was just going to enjoy watching her in the outfit she had worn today. It would, of course, be useful to get any pictures of her taking it off, to go along with the pictures he took earlier, and then that would be it, at least for a while.

Patricia did not go deep into her room. She stopped right beside her dresser chair, facing the window, and his. She began to undo the buttons of her sweater, just as she had done leaning against the tree.

It was a tremendous stroke of luck. She couldn't be in a better location for Leon. His eyes fixed on her sweater, as were hers. Each of them watching each button become undone, one at a time, bit by bit, the shutter of his camera clicking away.

When all of them were undone she hesitated, looking down at the unclasped buttons, the sweater now partially open, a little rose bow on the front strap of her brassiere peeking out from within her sweater, but little more than that. Still, it would seem the rest would soon follow. Leon took a deep breath of anticipation.

Patricia's breasts swelled with her own deep breath and then she opened up her sweater, bringing into view both of the lacy violet round cups.

Leon squeezed the camera shutter, while his other hand squeezed his cock.

He had not noticed before the faint rose embroidery traversing the violet lace. It was really quite subtle, yet so alluring, wrapping around the tender, bewitching curves of her captivatingly round, proud breasts.

Leon worked his fist up and down his cock. Patricia reached down further, to her left, to unclasp her skirt, and then slowly pulled down its zipper, bending forward a bit as she did, opening up a soft, white, enticing deep cleavage.

She let go of her skirt, letting it fall softly to her feet, out of sight below the window's ledge.

She stood back up straight, now wearing only her matching brassiere and panties. Leon's camera, and eye, went to the rose embroidery curving along the rise of the little feminine mound. There wouldn't be much beneath those panties but to Leon it would be quite a lot. If only she would, at least once, remove her panties. He promised to avoid her window for a full week if she would let him see it just once. That's all he wanted, that's all he was asking for.

Patricia looked a bit uncomfortable, just standing there, for no apparent reason. She looked to her left, to study her reflection within the mirror. She smiled. She could see how pretty, and sexy, she was, how beguiling, how tempting.

Keeping her eyes fixed on her reflection, she reached behind her back to unclasp her brassiere.

She slowly slipped her arms from one strap, holding the cup against her breast, and then repeated the action with the other shoulder strap.

Leon stroked himself harder. Wouldn't it be so nice to cum right now, just as she was about to reveal her breasts. But, wouldn't it be even better to cum just at the moment they were revealed. Or, perhaps better still, when her panties were pulled down. It was always so difficult to know precisely when it was the best time to cum, particularly when one didn't know when or how the story would end. Surely tonight though she would finally complete the show, as she was watching it herself within her mirror.

Patricia let her brassiere fall from her breasts, both boobs coming into view.

Leon groaned with such yearning, such lust. They were so full, so luscious, so mesmerizing.

Patricia gave them a wiggle.

Leon groaned again, feeling himself getting so fucking close. Could he really wait for the panties to be pulled down? Heck, why wait. They weren't coming down, at least not for him. They hadn't come down before. Why would they now? If he didn't cum now she would likely soon be completely out of sight, climaxing then would be so anticlimactic.

Patricia turned her face to look straight ahead, out the window, seemingly right at Leon.

A look of shock suddenly swept over her face. She turned away, and scampered off. Leon froze in mid-stroke.

What the fuck just happened? Did she in fact see him?

Shit! He suddenly realized how stupid he had been. How so fucking stupid! He immediately leapt away from the window, dashed across the room, his cock bobbing mightily, and turned out his ceiling light.

Could anybody be more dense? Of course she could just as easily see him as he saw her! Well, not as easily, as she did not have the benefit of the telephoto lens. But, still, she would see a face in the window, just as he had first seen hers, and would now realize that it must be him, peering through his ever-present camera, mounted for his comfort and ease, on a tripod. That's not a particularly ambiguous picture.

He peered through the darkness at her window, now without the advantage of his camera, trying to get a sense of how much she could have seen. Her chair now looked so terribly small. He couldn't make out much of any details. But, he did recognize it as a chair.

Yes, she could probably see him and, worst of all, discern the presence of the camera.

His eyes went suddenly down to the windows on the first floor. If her parents had looked up from the dining room or the kitchen they could have easily seen him as well, at least when he was right up against the window, which he was apt to do when he was really getting into watching Patricia.

His heart seemed to stop. He felt suddenly flushed and sick, as he pondered that possibility. But, clearly they hadn't ever seen him, for if they had, surely his parents would have received an immediate phone call. Perhaps the police would have showed up at his door. And certainly their daughter would have been told to shut her curtains. No, her parents had not yet seen him. He was very, very fortunate in that regard.

But, Patricia most definitely must have seen him. She had been looking directly at him! She in fact looked shocked to have seen him. Didn't she? He wished he had gotten a picture. He couldn't really trust his memory of her expression.

What should he do now? He checked for an email.

There was one, from Patricia.

He stared it, afraid of opening it, afraid what it might say. His life could now change forever precisely at this moment. Her parents hadn't seen him, but they might now soon find out, as Patricia tells them, and then goodness knows what they might do. He again felt a wave of panic.

He clicked the message. It read: "I hope you liked the show. You are a very naughty boy!"

Whoa! She liked it?! She liked that he was watching her get undressed?! Was that really true?! He smiled with a huge sense of relief, and delight.

Actually, he could read those two sentences with entirely the opposite meaning. The first sentence could simply be sarcastic. The second sentence was, at face value, an angry scolding. Consistent with this interpretation was that there was no accompanying smiley face, no cue that she was joking or teasing. It can be so hard to infer the affect within an email. The additional symbols were really very important. Plus, he noted, she never thanked him for the pictures he sent earlier.

Maybe he should respond by email, and ask for clarification. But, if she was really angry that might just inflame her more. If she was angry it might be best to let her cool off. But, better to be wrong by apologizing unnecessarily than to simply ignore her anger. He probably should send her an email.

He looked out his window. Her window was now dark as well. Even if he sent an email tonight she wouldn't see it until sometime tomorrow. He might as well wait. That would at least give him more time to think about precisely what to say.

He did not sleep well that night, not well at all.

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

He felt better though the next morning. It was clear that even if Patricia was mad she had not told her parents, for if she had then they would have spoken to his parents and his parents would have spoken to him. So, even if she was mad he was clearly being given the opportunity to talk to her about it. Perhaps she would forgive him.

He decided to apologize face-to-face. That would be more sincere, more adult, more forthright than an email. Plus, he wouldn't have to belabor the wording of every sentence, with her likely still misunderstanding what he was precisely trying to convey, and then wait hours for her to respond.

He spent the afternoon in his backyard, taking pictures. He could have gone to her house, but he kind of wanted to avoid her parents, just in case. He hoped she would come out once she saw him.

It was quite a while, but she did eventually come out into the backyard.

Leon looked at her nervously, studying her face to see if he could read her feelings, her thoughts.

She smiled.

Leon smiled back. He was so, so relieved.

He dashed over to a bush, behind which he had stowed some flowers he had bought for her. He had kept them hidden as he didn't want his parents to notice them, and ask questions.

"Here," he said, "I got these for you," handing them to her over the fence.

"Flowers?! Really?! Leon, that's so sweet." She stepped up to the fence to take them.

They were not particularly expensive flowers. They were just carnations. But, it was the thought that counts, wasn't it? And, apparently Patricia was indeed appreciative.

As she received them she gushed, "Leon, they're so pretty. Oh, I do love carnations."

There was a moment of awkward silence. What could Leon say? He didn't know.

Patricia said, "You know, Leon, you should really close your curtains."

Leon blushed, and looked down as he shuffled a foot. He was trying to figure out how best to articulate his apology.

Patrician continued, "Goodness, the things a boy will do in his room when he thinks nobody is looking. My gracious, a good girl shouldn't be exposed to such things!"

"What?!" What was she talking about? What had she seen? Well, actually, he was in the middle of jerking off when she looked at him. She couldn't really have seen anything though because his lower body was beneath the windowsill, but maybe she knew what he was doing, by the movement of his hand. This is rather embarrassing, to say the least.

"Now, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. It's very sweet of you to buy me flowers, but that doesn't mean I can just forget what I saw."

Leon was afraid to ask, but he had to. "What did you...see?"

"I never saw that much, besides you taking pictures of me, and doing something else..."

Leon's face reddened. He was so embarrassed.

"And," she added, "just how much you liked looking at things on your computer. You spend lots of time staring at that screen, Leon. It was kind of boring for me but when you would stand up it was often a rather climactic moment."

Oh crap. Patricia had seen much more than he had even been thinking. She had seen him, watched him, looking at porn on his monitor, and had then even seen him stand up when he came. He didn't always stand up, but sometimes he did. He liked to shoot his load onto paper towels and sometimes even onto the screen, right onto an image that had been particularly erotic. Yes, it was pretty obscene. But, what happens in the privacy of one's bedroom is one's own business. Unless, of course, one leaves the curtains open.

Leon could feel his heart sinking into his stomach. His legs felt weak and unsteady. His head dizzy. His face flushed with shame. "For how long have you been able to, um...see things."

"Oh, I don't know, I guess at least a few months."

She had been watching him longer than he had been watching her. "Oh," was all he could muster.

"Goodness, Leon, I mean, doesn't it get all over the keyboard?"

The color in Leon's face deepened. "Patricia, really, I'm really, really sorry." He felt like crawling into a deep hole to hide.

Patricia didn't say anything for a while, smiling as she watched his discomfort. She eventually replied, "Oh, Leon, don't say that. I thought it was cute, and funny."

Leon rolled his eyes. That was much better than disgust and abhorrence, but it didn't really make him feel much better. Cute was okay, but funny was not.

"And, well..." She lowered her voice and looked around, as if there might be someone listening in. "...Kind of exciting too."

"Oh?" Now, that was a little better.

"But, I figured I should tell you because, well, you know, my parents might have seen you at some point as well."

Now, that would be embarrassing. Goodness, imagine having neighbors complain to your parents that you are jerking off in front of an open window. "Yeah, well, uh, thanks." He felt like such a fucking pervert. He did wonder though why she had looked so shocked last night. Either he misunderstood her expression or she was playing with him.

"I was wondering, Leon," she quietly asked, her hands clasped behind her bottom, her body swaying left and right, as if to gently wave her breasts at him. "...if you'd take some more pictures of me."

"What, yeah! Sure!" Once again he realized he responded with more enthusiasm than he really should express. "Do you want to come over here? We can take some pictures by the milkweed. It's blooming real good right now, and there's some monarchs on it."

Patricia became a bit soft and reserved. "Well, actually, I was kind of thinking that maybe, um, you might want to take some pictures, of me...in my bedroom?"

Leon's cock twitched within his boxers. He was wearing boxers and slacks, as he clearly had no reason to expect Patricia would be at all flirtatious, if that's what she was doing. He cursed himself for not being more cautious. "Well, um, yeah, sure." He was uncertain though about one key point. "Like, um, from my bedroom?" That would make good sense. He imagined jerking off while she willingly posed for him, perhaps even opening up her blouse? His dick swelled. He wondered if he could jerk off without her becoming aware of it.

"No, silly butt," she replied. "You've already done that, and more than just a few times I might add."

"Oh, yeah," he softly acknowledged.

"My parents aren't home right now. We can go up to my bedroom."

Oh fuck. There was no way he was going to control his cock. "Okay," he agreed, his voice still timid. He told himself that it would all be very innocent as he opened the gate to enter her yard and follow her indoors. If he thought otherwise, if he thought about what this really might be about, the evidence of his excitement would just be so apparent. She probably just wanted to try on different outfits, like she used to do as a kid. But, of course, now she would have him look away when she changed.

Leon's eyes were fixed on Patricia's taut swaying bottom so tightly encased in her jeans. How does a girl get pants on that are that tight?

Yes, it really couldn't be anything more than just wanting to try on different outfits. His imagination had been getting the best of him. But, why mention that her parents aren't home? That was probably because her parents wouldn't let her have a guy in her room. But, geez, if that is true, what do they do when her parents come back?

"What do we do if your parents come home?"

Patricia looked back over her shoulder as she was about to open the back door. "Leon, is it important for you to not have my parents be home?"

Leon stopped in his tracks. "What? No! No, um, well, you had just mentioned they wouldn't be home. I was just wondering when they might be getting back."

She didn't respond. She led him into the house. She immediately went to get a vase in which to put the carnations.

As soon as Leon entered he recalled the times he played in this house with Patricia, when they were little. He wondered what kind of play they were going to engage in today. He waited in the dining room for her to return, recalling how they once played tea party in this room.

Patricia came back with the carnations in a vase filled with water.

As she headed for her bedroom, she looked over her shoulder at Leon following dutifully behind. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, no, I'm fine." His mouth was pretty dry, but he didn't want any delays. He was anxious to get started, although he was keeping his eyes off Patricia's bottom, trying to get his cock to go back down. In his mind he was going through the various components of a camera, but when they got to the stairs his concentration at distraction failed.

Patricia walked a couple of steps in front of him, which put his face right at the level of that round, perky butt, which shifted and swayed as it made its way up the stairs. No boy could be expected to ignore that, and his mind naturally returned to the fact that he was headed to her bedroom, to take some pictures, of her.

Patricia looked back down at him as she reached the top of the stairs, "Isn't this going to be fun?"

Leon nodded. He sure hoped so.

As he followed her into her bedroom he shut the door behind him.

"No, no," Patricia corrected him. "Leave the door open, so we can hear if my parents come home."

That wasn't terribly reassuring, but Leon did open the door as Patricia put the vase on a side table next to her bed, where she could see them tonight as she went to sleep.

Leon wondered if he should again ask what they were supposed to do if her parents came home, but he doubted that he would get a straight answer. He was plenty dense when it came to girls, but he was beginning to realize that the game they would play in her room had actually started from the moment she said hello in the backyard, or perhaps even when she had looked shocked to see him watching her through the window.

Leon looked around. He only vaguely remembered the bedroom from the last time he was in it, which was many, many years ago. He did, of course, immediately recognize the dresser and chair that stood right in front of the window. He looked through it to his own window across the two back yards. It felt kind of odd for a moment, as if he was having an out-of-body experience, seeing himself from a distance. He turned to his right to see that he had been correct. Her bed was right in front of the other window. If she had ever just opened those curtains he would have been able to see her lying on her bed, doing perhaps quite interesting things beyond just reading a book.

But, there were clearly more interesting things now to see, as Patricia was wasting no time in removing her blouse.

She had her back to him but what she was doing was very, very clear. Well, apparently his hope, which at the time had felt more like a fantasy, had been right on target. He swallowed what little saliva he could muster.

She had said that she had been watching him for months, much longer than he had been watching her, which meant that most to all of the times she had undressed in front of her window she likely knew he was watching her. His dick swelled with excitement.