Through The Lens

I lived at the top end of the village, my bedroom overlooking the main road and, of all things, a cemetery across the other side. Beyond that was the mountain that separated our valley from the next one across, so you'd think this was not exactly the ideal domain for somebody who held an unhealthy interest in space and astronomy while he was growing up. What we did have, though, was a loft conversion with two large windows - one on each side - that tilted open so you had a clear and unobstructed view of most of the night sky from inside the house. While most people had to put their stargazing telescopes outside in the garden, mine was up there in the loft warm and dry all year round.

It was a nice 'scope - 250x magnification. What that means is that something five hundred feet away would seem almost within touching reach of you as you gazed at it. I don't know how much it cost - £300, £400 maybe - as it was part of a long stream of space related Christmas presents that spanned several years from when I was 8 or 9 years old to the time that this tale relates to, when I was a nineteen year old getting ready to graduate from sixth form with my A levels and go to university. Water rockets, star charts, planetarium balls, computers and cameras had for years been my birthday and Christmas presents, and while the telescope was still a few years old, it was my most prized possession.

And not just because you could see details of the moon's rugged terrain with it, or make out the shape of the horsehead nebula in the constellation Sagittarius. Oh no. Since I had become sexually aware it had quite often been turned away from the night sky, and tilted much more earthward as a growing curiosity of not only what was above me, but also what was around me, began to plague my imagination. It had started with furtive spying on other kids playing on the mountainside, lighting fires with stolen matches, on older teens drinking and snogging and touching each other up supposedly out of sight of the village and their parents. Then once that had paled it had turned even more groundward in search of voyeuristic delights.

As I lived at the top end of the village the loft had a commanding view across the large, rectangular plot of allotments that lay behind our house. Around these allotments were other houses, all tightly packed terraced dwellings arranged around the perimeter of the allotments that took about ten minutes to walk around with my dog in the mornings. From the loft, with the telescope angled below the horizontal, I could see inside peoples gardens, kitchens, bathrooms and, obviously, bedrooms. The angles limited exactly what you could see, but with many houses I had what could be considered a fairly interesting view.

That's when I fell in lust with Rebecca.

Rebecca was like me. Imperfect. I was skinny, geeky by nature, more interested in technology and astronomy than playing football and rugby and would rather be out with a radio controlled car than a pushbike. Rebecca was a little overweight - though certainly nowhere near obese - and spent most of her spare time in her bedroom either playing The Sims on her computer or wiling away the nights on the internet. I knew this because I could see her through the telescope. I didn't have a full view of her bedroom, but I got enough of an angle on her room that I could see her desk and dressing table, and maybe a third of the bottom of her bed. It was a bit of a mess, with clothes scattered everywhere, books and papers and hair care containers all over the place, but that was no different to my own. Occasionally mine was tidied, usually shortly after my parents had gone ballistic on me, but more often than not it looked little better than Bex's. I didn't notice after a while, though, because all I was interested in was her. The lens no longer looked out into space, but deep into Bex's bedroom.

She was a little younger - not by much, though, and had long black hair, most often tied up in a pony tail, and pale milky skin because like me she would rather stay indoors than go out. I don't suppose she had many friends - I never saw anyone else in her room while I was spying on her - and her habit of locking herself up inside rather than going out probably contributed to not just her pale complection, but also the extra pounds that she carried. D on't get me wrong here, Rebecca was not a fat girl, but she did carry that extra baggage that comes with growing up and it hadn't burned off due to the lack of exercise that her internet regimen dictated. She had also been one of the b-grade pupils through her years in comprehensive school, and that's why I hadn't noticed her before - we shared no common classes. Pupils were segregated into achievers and under-achievers from the age of thirteen, but Rebecca had clearly worked hard to move out of the lower band and into the uppers, which I reckoned might also help to explain her lack of close friends. She had outgrown her old ones by leaving them behind in their second grade classes, and the ones in the upper band had their own cliques and she hadn't found a way to be included in those.

As is common with some overweight girls, her face was rounded and relatively plain. Soft. When you looked closer - as I did on the bus on the way in to school every day and during Maths which was the single cross-over lesson that we both endured together, you could see that beneath the puppy fat there was a very pretty face waiting to break out. Most don't notice these things normally, but when you begin to really focus on somebody the potential becomes so apparent that you wonder why the rest of the world doesn't see it. What attracted me to Rebecca, though, was not so much the awareness of how this girl could grow into a good looking woman, but that her secrets were every bit as dark as mine.

You see, the telescope showed me things about her that you would never normally imagine. It started when I was scanning the back bedrooms of the houses that overlooked the allotments, hoping to find a couple going at it like rabbits with the lights on and the curtains wide open - something that had happened just twice in about three years of below the horizon stargazing. Then one evening my lens settled on the glow of Becca's computer screen, and her profile highlighted in off-white light in the darkness as she MSN'd to complete strangers with her right hand while she felt her own boobs up with her left. My God that got me so hard it was painful, even though all I could see was a ghostly hand moving over her bra as the position of her desk and chair in relation to my view was at a bit of a difficult angle. I couldn't make out what she was typing, or who she was typing to, but I could see from the images that flashed up on her screen exactly what the subject matter was, and that made my stiff meat harder still.

Men were sending her grainy photographs of their cocks, and while they did that she was navigating through an array of folders and pulling up mobile phone pictures of her own hidden treasures. On one occasion I watched her spread her legs and put the mobile down there, before plugging the phone into her computer and uploading a beautiful picture of her fur lined pussy being invaded by a dainty finger, relaying20it then on to some unknown lucky bastard over the broadwave. She was very careful not to show her face on-line, but her tits and fanny were flaunted to all comers with wanton abandon. I longed for her MSN address as I watched her on those rare occasions when she was online and hadn't closed the blinds, my own hand working my hardness slowly as image after image of hard dicks and gaping pussies flashed up on her screen. Sometimes images of women with cocks in their mouths or men fucking away at their engorged, distended cunts made it up onto the monitor as anonymous wankers from all around the world traded dirty photographs with the object of my secret obsession, while I in turn wanked myself off into the microfibre cloths that I used to polish the lenses on my telescope.

All the while she sat there, leaning into the screen as she sent and received photographs, her hands working on her tits or moving purposefully between her thighs and out of sight to me. We wanked together, Becca and I, though she knew naught of me, remaining blissfully unaware of my hard, erect manhood being stroked in rigid salute of her as she laughed and sighed in a world of her own until my semen spurted into a cloth, often catching me by surprise as I watched her bare legs and feet propped up on the edge of her desk as she leaned back in her chair, the laptop showing a webcam of some stranger also wanking himself off as she chatted over MSN with him before the days of Skype made t yping old hat.

How I longed to hear her voice whispering those fuck-me lines, encouraging me to pump my cock harder, to spurt my semen over her full teenaged tits or her open slit, wet and slippery from having just been fingered by red painted nails. I lay awake at night long after she had switched off and gone to sleep herself, replaying the images in my mind, my eyes closed as her husky, lust laden voice urged me to finger her, to eat her out, to ram my hard cock inside her, to flood her womb with my seed or spill it down her gulping throat. I showered every single morning, desperately trying to think of an angle that could get me closer to her as I readied for school, paying more attention to my appearance than I had ever done in my life, depleting Lynx shower gel bottles at an alarming rate and going through a tube of toothpaste a week.

Then one day in Maths class when I was trying to conceal a raging hard-on beneath my desk, it suddenly came to me. This was the last lesson of the day, yet it was only lunch time. Normally I'd walk the four miles home instead of waiting for the bus, but most people that lived our way either spent the afternoon in the sixth form common room or in the library. So this time I stayed behind, leaving my bewildered friends to walk home without me, claiming that I was staying behind because I was having trouble with one of my subjects. I looked for Rebecca in the common roon, found it deserted, then after lunch break I wandered into the library.

She was there, and she gave me nothing more than a cursory glance as I entered the room. I left it five minutes, thumbing my way through the shelves of books, before finally plucking up the courage to sit opposite her at the table as she worked away at an assignment that she had been given while waiting for the bus to pick her up at the end of the day.

She looked up at me, her eyes reflecting annoyance and a little bewilderment that of all the seats and tables in the near deserted library I could have chosen to sit at I chose the one opposite her. " Hiya Rebecca. I'm sorry to be a bother, but did you get those equations in maths at all?"

"What d'you mean?"

"I just didn't understand how you get the answer from the question. I'm probably just being thick, but the workings out didn't seem to take me to the answer that everybody else was getting."

"Probably." she laughed. I was captivated already, I just hoped it didn't show too obviously. " It all seemed pretty easy to me."

"Could you show me?" I asked, and pulled out the work that I had done in the class and deliberately got wrong, having carefully made the same mistake on each of the sample equations that we had been given.

"Ah, I can see what you've done..." She said after she'd studied my work, then she proceeded to patiently explain to me exactly where I 'd screwed up.

"That's it?" I asked, still playing my role as class dunce.

"That's it. Easy!" She exclaimed.

"Well, thanks very much for walking me through that. I can't afford to screw up this close to the exams. Not with uni on the line."

And from there the conversation blossomed. I told her my hopes and ambitions, why maths and physics were so important to my future plans while I worked towards an astrophysics degree, and she shared her dreams of working in investments and banking, and I bought her a can of coke from the common room dispensing machine as we wasted the rest of the afternoon while waiting for the bus home. I helped with her assignment as best I could, which basically meant that I held her up for a couple of hours, then when the bus arrived I made a point of sitting beside her on the way home. As we disembarked at the end of the ten minute journey I gave her my thanks once again, then went to walk home. She turned away and headed to her half of the village without even a backward glance at me, so I did an about face called out to her.

"Becca, what are you doing tonight?"

"Why?" She asked suspiciously as I walked back up to her, setting my bag on the floor between us. " I've had a good time this afternoon, and I was wondering if you fancied, well, I don't know.... going out and doing something."

"Are you asking me out?" She blus hed as the bus pulled off noisily.

"Well, yeah. I guess I am. I know I'm not the greatest catch for a girl, and I won't be at all offended if you turned me down - I expect you've got much better things to do than waste your time on me." I said, and I said it honestly. I'd had dark dreams of blackmailing her with spreading her secret if she refused to go out with me, but those ideas were quickly squashed once I'd spent a little time with her. If it wasn't going to work, then I'd just keep on secretly using her as my masturbatory muse. I held my breath as I waited for her answer. She seemed to be weighing me up, unsure which way to lean, then after what felt like an eternity but were probably just a few seconds she asked; " What you got in mind?"

I didn't have anything in mind, actually. My mind was a total blank. " Pictures?" I blurted.

"What's on?"

"I haven't a clue." I admitted. And from there it began. That night we caught a movie, and I didn't even hold her hand as I walked her home from the bus stop. She leaned against the doorway of her house as I said goodnight, and I hesitantly leaned forward. Even in the dark I could see her go red, but her eyes fluttered closed and that was all the invitation that I needed. Our lips touched, and I briefly entertained the notion of sliding my tongue between her lips, but her mouth refused to part when I pressed harder so I consciously held ba ck until we broke apart.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled. " It just happened. I couldn't help myself."

"I'll see you tomorrow." She murmured, then she opened her door and disappeared inside. It slammed behind her. I ran home through the dark alley that bordered the allotments and the backs of the houses, not caring if I trod in dog shit as I bombed through the lane. I kicked off my shoes in the hallway and poked my head through the living room door, saying; " Hello, and goodnight." to my parents who were up watching something on TV, then I careered up the two flights of stairs to the loft, threw the window open, and trained my telescope on Becca's bedroom. All was darkness. Obviously she was still downstairs, so I waited impatiently. It took about ten minutes, but soon Rebecca's room was bathed in the yellow glow from the landing as she went in and then the room lit up as she turned on the light. I saw her walk past her desk, still wearing the jeans and black top that she had worn to the cinema with me and my cock jerked alive when she slowly lifted the black silk garment over her head, her back turned to me. I saw her back split horizontally by the white line of her bra strap, and then she turned out the lights. With no street lighting at the backs of the houses everything was pitch dark, and after ten minutes I realised that she had gone to sleep and wouldn't be turning on her PC for some anonymous roleplay. I didn't know whether to fee l disappointed or not. On the one hand I would have loved to see her feeling herself up after being so close to her all night, but on the other hand I was happy that the one kiss we had shared was enough to send her to sleep and possibly fuel her own fantasies. Perhaps she was even rubbing herself beneath the sheets in the darkness. I closed the window, crept down to my room, and dreamed of Rebecca.

I made myself deliberately late for the bus the next day, making sure that everybody else had got on while I ran to catch it, last aboard. I caught her eye as I showed my pass to the driver, and she looked away somewhat coyly as if embarassed about the previous night and my amateurish attempt at kissing her. She was sat next to the window and the seat beside her was taken by her bag. I stopped at my friends, and had never been so glad to see that they hadn't kept a seat for me, and we chatted for a minute as the bus pulled off. The driver shouted at me to sit, so I did, moving up the bus and away from my friends, after asking Rebecca if it would be ok to sit there. She slid her bag off the seat next to her and I sat down.

"About last night." I began.

"Nothing needs to be said." She interrupted me. " It was a nice night out. I had a good time."

"And the kiss?"

"I've had better." She admitted, grinning in a somewhat mischievous way.

"Is that a chal lenge?" I asked. " Cuz I hope it is."

Her fingers moved across, furtively touching mine as she glanced past me to make sure nobody was watching. I curled my fingers around hers and slid a little closer, our hands now hidden between our thighs. With my other hand I pulled a small scrap of paper out of my breast pocket and handed it to her. Home number, mobile number, email and AIM address, and also my newly created MSN messenger account. The day passed slower than any other day in the history of days had ever passed before.

After tea I went to the loft and switched on my laptop. There was no MSN invite waiting for me, so I quickly lined up the 'scope on Rebecca's room to confirm that she was not there and her computer was off. For the next hour I played some Quake, then when I logged off that and logged back on to MSN there was an invite waiting for me. I quickly confirmed it, sending a 'hi' as well, and took a furtive glance through the telescope, finding Rebecca sat at her desk, PC on, doing what I assumed to be homework. I watched her expertly ALT-TAB out of her MS Access screen and got a quick one word hello in reply.

"Whatcha doing tonight?" I asked.

"English. I suck at it big time." She shot back.

"I don't have any work to do, but I hear my kissing needs practice." I replied, closing the message with a wink emote.

This time there was a lengthy pause, before she lolled back. I noticed that her status was still 'offline', so obviously she didn't want her cyber-boyfriends interrupting her while she did her assignments, but had made herself available for me. This I took to be a very good sign, so I pushed my luck as far as I dared. " Is that all you're doing tonight?"

"Gotta get it finished. What you up to?"

"Waiting for it to get dark."

"Why? What happens when it gets dark?" My screen flashed up.

"The stars come out."

"Pardon?"

"I told you in the common room that I stargaze when I'm bored. Want to come across later and have a look?"

This time the answer took a long time coming. I watched intently through the telescope as I waited for the audio tone that told me I had an incoming message, watching Rebecca hesitate over the keyboard as she mulled over a response.

"Isn't it too cloudy?" She tried stalling.

"Weatherchannel says it'll be clear overhead by nine. You've got plenty of time to get bored of that assignment, then you can come over here and I'll show you my stuff."

"Stuff?"

"My telescope and some of the photos I've taken. It's not as boring as it sounds, honest!"

"Hmmm... let me be the judge of that." She lolled back. " I'll msn when I'm leaving. You can meet me halfway."

Yessss! I punched the air, and I watched her through her blinds for the rest of the evening, stroking myself through my jeans as she criss-crossed her room from wardrobe to dresser in nothing but a bra and white knickers as she tried on various garments until she was happy with the way she looked. Tonight it was black jeans and a red v-neck sweater. She spent a lot of time on her hair, wearing it down and tousled instead of tied back in her usual severe manner - the same as she did when she was pretend fucking over the internet - and she also took extra care over her make-up, but went relatively light on the lip gloss. She hadn't done any cybersex since I'd started hitting on her as far as I could tell, so I hoped she was getting extra horny as a result. If I went two nights without jacking off I'd be ready for anything, and I hoped that principle applied to girls as well as guys. I watched her as she typed an 'On My Way' into MSN and acknowledged it at my end before heading out into the street. I was outside her front porch before she'd even opened the door, then out she came.