tagExhibitionist & VoyeurThe New Neighbor

The New Neighbor

byBobbieKayeCutie©

This story is the sequel to my recently submitted poem, "Backyard Thrill." The poem retells the true story of the night I got up the nerve to go naked in my backyard, at two in the morning. That really did happen, but this story is about what might have happened if I'd been watched that night by a neighbor.

This is a collaboration, and is told from the perspective of Flubber, as he observes his neighbor venturing boldly into her backyard, eventually with nary a stitch on.


The New Neighbor
By Bobbie Kaye (Cutie) & Flubber


A quick glance at my alarm clock told me it was nearly two a.m., and I let out a small groan. Although I was completely exhausted, I couldn't seem to find a way to drift off to sleep. You'd think after making trip after trip after trip up the stairs with everything I owned, that I would have passed out long ago.

But now that I was lying atop my bed, still without any sheets on it, and I was wide awake, cognizant of every little sound outside my bedroom window. With the lights off in my room, the streetlamps cast an eerie glow through the curtains, which thankfully had been left by the last tenants, as mine were still buried in one of the many boxes I had yet to unpack. Normally that minor amount of light wouldn't bother me, but tonight, combined with being in a strange, new place, it seemed like a hundred spotlights were shining down upon me.

I had just moved into my new place that very afternoon. On my own, I had carried all my belongings up to my new second story apartment. It was backbreaking work. I hadn't thought much about it when I packed up everything for my move, but now I regretted trying to stuff everything into as few boxes as possible, especially when it came to all my books, dishes, and clothes.

Luckily, my bed frame could be taken in sections, and I only had to struggle with the mattress and box spring. The difficult part was the dresser and my desk. My arms ached from the tugging and pulling as I valiantly hauled them up the narrow stairs. More than once I cursed at not doing what I'd done with my living room furniture, leaving the old behind in favor of purchasing a new set when I arrived here, and being able to have it delivered by men much more suited to the task than I.

Other than my new landlord, who had hastily handed me the keys and taken off, I had scarcely seen a single person all day. I'd hoped that some kind soul, seeing me moving into my new place, would approach and welcome me to the neighborhood, and then follow up with a genuine offer of assistance with my belongings. But it wasn't to be.

I hadn't heard a peep from outside in a while. Earlier I'd heard a few cars pass by, along with a few other clatters and clamors I struggled to identify. But now it was silent, which oddly enough kept me from finally dozing off as my mind strained to pick up even the faintest sounds from the surrounding neighborhood.

I wondered about my neighbors. The landlord assured me it was a quiet area, but who knew if that were truly the case? He might have told me anything in order to get me to take the place. With my luck, the downstairs tenant was both an aspiring trombonist and tap dancer, and despite practicing at all hours of the day and night, wouldn't be even remotely proficient at either.

And then there was the house next door, which I'd noticed when first arrived. I hadn't seen anyone home at the time, but for all I knew it was filled with half a dozen screaming kids, or the type of people that will use any excuse possible to throw loud, drunken parties. Some of my fears had abated though, as my bedroom window had a view of the back yard, and I could discern no toys strewn about, nor any scattering of beer cans or other remnants from any wild parties.

A bang suddenly registered in my mind. In reality it wasn't that loud, but in the otherwise dead silence of the night, with the fact I'd been concentrating on hearing even the tiniest sound, it probably seemed more pronounced than it really was.

I gathered it was most likely the sound of a door closing. Was it a neighbor just getting home from a late evening out? Or maybe someone that worked an early shift just leaving for work? After all, don't those people that make the donuts have to go in at about this time? Then again, it could be someone letting their dog out to do its business. That was just what I needed, some mutt next door barking continuously at any little thing.

Since I had nothing better to do, I climbed out of bed and went to the window to investigate the sound, figuring that maybe once my curiosity was satisfied, I might finally be able to fall asleep.

There was a small gap in the curtains which I doubted would be noticeable by anyone from the outside. I almost pushed the curtains aside to afford myself a better view, but luckily I thought better of it at the last moment, since I was completely naked.

I had stripped off my clothes before climbing in bed. It felt weird lying atop my mattress without any sheets on the bed, but I hadn't wanted to spend the night in the sweaty clothes I'd worn all day while lugging all my stuff inside, as it would not only make me feel icky and uncomfortable, but would probably keep me up, too. So much for that!

I leaned forward and peered through the slightly parted curtains, scanning for the origin of the noise I'd heard moments before. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the glow of the streetlamps, but when they did, my focus was immediately drawn to the source of the sound.

On the back deck of the house next to me was a woman. She was a real cutie, maybe five foot three and slender, with long auburn hair. Her pale skin gave off a glow as ambient light from the streetlamps penetrated the yard, and even though it was the middle of the night, I was able to see her features fairly well.

I don't know why, but it didn't register in my mind that it was odd for her to be outside at this hour. At first I thought she was wearing a bikini, and I considered the notion that maybe there was a hot tub that I'd missed earlier when I surveyed the neighboring yard, and she was just stepping out for a late-night dip.

It was then that two things dawned upon me. One, it was a little chilly to be taking a dip at this hour, and two, that wasn't a bikini she was wearing. The outfit was white, and far too lacey to be swimwear; she was standing there in her underwear!

I was stunned that anyone would step outside their home in such a state, even if it was at a time of night that under most circumstances she would never be caught. I figured maybe she'd left something on the deck, possibly her glasses or the phone, and had decided to slip quickly outside and retrieve them, knowing there was virtually no chance of being seen at this hour.

However, I knew my assumption was wrong. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to get back inside. I watched her closely as she unhitched a little gate and stepped off the porch and into the grass. She paused for a second, as if to savor the sensation of the grass against her bare feet.

She began to move slowly about her yard. She glanced toward my window a few times, and at first I was afraid she'd seen me. For some reason I felt ashamed and embarrassed to be spying on her, even though it was she who had decided to parade around her backyard in nothing but her dainties.

I didn't budge from my position, and she seemed satisfied she was not being observed. She wandered over to another gate, this leading to a driveway on the opposite side of the yard from the boundary that our two places shared. She scanned the area and must have felt assured that there were no witnesses on that side, either, as she calmly turned and walked across the yard toward a tree near the back of her yard.

I watched as she plucked a piece of fruit; it could have been a lemon, though it was hard to tell from my viewpoint. She seemed to take a long pause to inhale its scent. Her eyes were now closed, and the look on her face was one of peace and contentment.

I watched her standing there for what seemed an eternity, but was in reality only moments. Suddenly her eyes opened flew open, as if coming to a realization of where she was, and how she was dressed. I would swear to this day that, even at that distance, I could see her face turn red with a deep sense of embarrassment at her predicament. My eyes glued to the scene, I followed her lithe form intently as she dashed across the yard and back up the steps to her deck.

I thought I'd possibly been witness to someone who'd been sleepwalking. It would explain her being in her bedroom attire, as well as her wandering around her backyard so nonchalantly; that something had pulled her out of her trance when she sniffed the fruit, bringing her back into the waking world, one where she found herself standing in her backyard, dressed in her lacey lingerie, and on view to anyone who might be watching. It would give her good reason suddenly to be embarrassed, and to run for the safety of her home.

Unexpectedly, however, once back on her deck, she did not rush inside to the safe confines of her home, but instead stood there as if listening to the night. There was not a sound present, except for the beating of my heart, which for some reason had grown louder and more rapid since my gaze had first fallen upon her. I watched as she brought her hands up, which I thought were going to pull open the door, allowing her to disappear. My all too brief opportunity would be over.

Instead, she did something that I will never forget. Her hands unhooked her bra, allowing it to fall unhindered to the deck! I could see her standing there with her chest on display. I had seen woman of all shapes and sizes, but seeing her there, her small breasts with nipples so taut and pink against her creamy white skin, was the most stimulating thing I had ever witnessed.

I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. Was I dreaming? I thought I was awake, but had I actually fallen asleep, and was I having some sort of wet dream? It had been years since I'd been with a woman, and more than two weeks since I'd touched myself in that manner due to all the preparation for my move. I couldn't remember going that long without doing so, at least not since college when sharing a dorm room made it difficult at best to find any private time. That had to be it. I was horny, and this was all just my imagination.

But my imagination had never conjured up a woman like her before, and it certainly felt like I was standing there at the window, my member rapidly swelling at the sight before me. Without any conscious effort, my right hand had found its perch and slowly began sliding up and down the hardening flesh.

I was so engrossed in my own thoughts that I almost missed the fact that my mystery woman had started moving again. She stepped through her gate and back down to the grass. Her hands were at her side, although she acted as though she wanted nothing more than to bring them up to cover her delectable little breasts. As she walked, she glanced both in the direction of the other driveway as well as toward my window. I froze in mid-stroke, hoping she did not discern my movements, giving her reason abruptly to end her nighttime adventure.

She either didn't notice, or didn't care. She wandered back to her deck, this time seeming much less hesitant. Her nipples were standing out proudly from her small, pert breasts, and she seemed to have a look about her that was a mixture not only of nervousness and excitement, but also arousal.

I couldn't blame her. I was aroused too. I was fully erect, all six inches. Hell, I'd swear at that moment I was at my biggest ever, possibly adding another half inch, and thicker around, too. My right arm was moving rapidly now, despite being exhausted from its earlier physical workout during the move. My left was against the window frame, trying to steady myself. My strokes were getting faster and the pre-cum was flowing freely. My hand was alternating between a series of short, quick strokes, and then a few long, slow ones, stopping only for the occasional fondling of my balls as I could feel the churning of juices inside, waiting to be freed.

If I thought my voyeuristic opportunity had reached its peak, I was quite mistaken. As I continued to watch her, a look of resolve came across her face, as though she'd made a decision about something. Before I knew it, she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her panties and they quickly joined her bra on the deck!

I was so stunned that I stopped stroking. It was a good thing, because even without any physical stimulation, it took all my willpower not to cum from the mere visual stimuli I was laying witness to.

I could now see the whole package, and a fine package it was. She was slender, with a tiny bust and smooth, youthful skin. I watched as she went back down the steps and into the center of her yard. I hadn't noticed until then, there having been far too many other areas to attract my gaze, but she was carrying an iPod. I watched as she operated the unit, obviously searching for a particular song.

She began dancing right there in her backyard, completely naked! Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be totally lost in the music. It was so erotic, so sensual, and the effect on her was highly evident. As she moved and swayed, my hand continued its assault upon my flesh. I could feel the beginnings of what I knew was going to be a powerful orgasm. I kept drawing it closer then backing off, building my arousal without quite getting there. I knew this would only add to the intensity once I finally burst.

The woman stopped dancing, possibly when the song ended, and her eyes opened again. There was a look of fright as she came to the realization that she was naked in her backyard. She made an immediate dash for her house, leaving little doubt that she intended to find her way inside this time. She never even stopped to retrieve her undergarments as she flew across the deck and into her home. She was in a hurry, as though she were desperate for something, and I felt it wasn't just to get out of the view of any prying eyes. I knew she needed what I needed, and needed it now!

My last glimpse of her was of her bare bottom passing through the doorway, and then the door shutting behind it. I imagined where she was going, and what she was so eager to do. My hand was a blur now. I needed to cum; I had to cum!

I arched forward as I continued my strokes, preparing to ejaculate. The very tip of my penis slipped between the gap in the curtains, and came in contact with the cool glass of the window, leaving a trail of pre cum as it slid along. The sensation was so unexpected and overwhelming it triggered my release. Weeks of pent up frustration left my body in multiple streams of thick, ropy strands. All I could do was stand there with my eyes closed, envisioning her dancing there in her backyard.

After several seconds (that felt like hours), I staggered back and fell onto the bed, exhausted beyond belief. The physical strains of the move, combined with what I had just done, were more than my body could take. I felt more tired and ready for sleep than I had ever felt in my life. I could only smile as I thought to myself that I had finally found a way to get to sleep, and drifted off into a deep slumber. The last thing that entered my mind was the impression that somewhere I could hear a woman whimpering.

***


I awoke the next morning, greeted by the sun filtering through the gap in the curtains. It was bright, and I had to squint until my eyes adjusted to the intense light. I looked toward the alarm clock and saw that it was well past noon. I never slept this late! Then it all started coming back to me. The gap in the curtains, the woman at first in her bra and panties, and then nude, watching her dancing in the night as naked as the day she was born.

I knew it had to have been a dream. I hoped not, but I knew nothing like that happens in real life, only in fantasies. I got up and jumped into the shower, avoiding looking out the window. I wanted my illusion to last for at least a little while longer. I knew when those curtains parted, I'd see in that yard some little old lady tending to her flowers, or some three hundred pound man camped out in a lawn chair, rapidly working his way through a twelve-pack of beer.

After puttering around, I could put it off no longer. I had to prove to myself that it had all been a dream. I made my way over to the window and took a deep breath, parting the curtains. And there was all the evidence I needed before me; the splatter after splatter of dried semen on the window. Then I glanced down at my mystery woman's yard, and saw the discarded bra and panties lying on her deck, exactly where she'd left them the night before. It was at that moment I told myself, "Fantasies can come true."

The end

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