Adam was lying on his bed. His eyes were closed, the house was quiet, and he was locked deeply onto his usual fantasy subject ... Cynthia Morales.
Every encounter with Cynthia over the years had been carefully cataloged in his sense memory ... every touch, every smell, every sight. Adam may have been working on his doctorate in biochemistry, but his real expertise centered on two things: Cynthia and masturbating. Adam was a champion pole polisher. He masturbated so much that he once had a nightmare about looking into the mirror and seeing in his reflection that his body had morphed into the physique of Reggie from that movie, "Lady in the Water," with one bodybuilder arm and one puny arm. He awoke in a sweat, checked to make sure that nothing like that had actually happened, and engaged in one man tug-a-war until he drifted back to sleep.
The center of it all was always Cynthia. Adam could describe every molecule of his treasure. Their families had lived next door to one another since second grade. In fact, Adam could still remember meeting her for the first time as a 7-year-old and feeling a strange acceleration in his heartbeat. The Morales family was moving in, and Cynthia had climbed the big maple tree in their front yard. She was sitting on a branch watching the movers with one leg hanging down, swinging. Adam ran out of his house on that bright, warm summer morning on his way to Danny Grange's house down the street.
Cynthia turned at the sound of the door slapping shut, saw Adam, and called out to him. "Where are you running to?"
Adam looked up and saw the raven-haired, coffee-skinned, tomboy sitting in the tree. His mouth fell open slightly. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared up at her.
"You can speak English, can't you?" she inquired, since he'd become a statue.
"Yeah, I can speak," he answered.
"So?"
"Nowhere ... just ..."
"You're running at top speed to nowhere?" she asked, chuckling.
Adam felt his face grow warm, but he was completely enchanted. He walked toward the tree, his eyes never leaving Cynthia.
"Don't you ever run for no reason at all?" he asked.
Still laughing at his discomfort, she answered, "No ... I never run unless I know where I'm going." She was making fun of him, but he didn't care. Cynthia asked if he'd like to share a branch, and Adam climbed the tree to sit on a branch next to her. The two of them sat in the tree and talked for most of the afternoon, getting to know each other. Meanwhile, Danny sat on his front stoop getting madder and madder at M.I.A. Adam until he finally had to leave for Little League practice on his own.
Even at the tender age of seven, Adam could see the elements of the beauty Cynthia was to become. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her back and glinted in the sun. Her smart chocolate eyes never missed anything. Her high cheekbones sat majestically above full lips. And, her smile ... it was so dazzling it made the Sun hang its head in shame.
The two became inseparable. They played together, had dinner at each other's houses, laid in their back yards on warm nights, staring up at the stars, and telling each other their thoughts and dreams. They shared their first kiss together. The first time Adam held a girl's hand, it was Cynthia's. He watched her grow from a skinny tomboy into a stunning teenager. He often sat in the dark corner of his room with all the lights off and stared out his window across the lawn into Cynthia's bedroom. He always felt ashamed at spying on his best friend, but he was too consumed with her to resist. A few times he'd caught glimpses of her changing. Once, when she thought he'd gone to his grandmother's house for the weekend with his parents, she'd left the curtains open when she walked in from the shower.
Adam watched as Cynthia removed the towel from her body and sat naked in front of her dresser, drying her hair. He stealthily grabbed his camping binoculars and studied her body. Her breasts were beyond perfect. Her natural skin tone was so dark that she had only a faint tan line. The cones of her breasts rose regally above her slender waist. Her mahogany nipples jutted stiffly from her puffy areolas. Even though Adam had amassed a small library of Playboy magazines, none of those women could hold a candle to the vision occupying his viewfinder.
When Cynthia finished drying her hair, she stood and walked to the window to let the cool night air wash over her. Adam, whose heart was hammering in his chest, thought it might just stop completely when he panned down her body to the dark patch of hair covering her sex. Cynthia put one foot on the window sill and went through a stretching routine. She loved the feel of the wind tickling her naked skin. It felt so erotic to be naked near the window, she thought. As she pushed forward, Adam zoomed the binoculars in on the outline of her pussy lips, flush and full, blossoming out from her dark curls.
He was harder than he'd ever been in his life. He slipped on hand into his shorts to rub himself, but his eyes stayed glued to Cynthia. Sweat was running down his cheeks even though the fall air was crisp. He knew the images from this night would be stamped onto his brain in exquisite detail for as long as he lived.
Cynthia moved from the window, turned off the overhead light, checked to make sure her bedroom door was locked, and moved to her bed. Only the soft night light on her nightstand illuminated her room. She propped up her pillows and lay on her back. She closed her eyes, and her hands moved to her sex, already slick with her juices. She used both hands to rub her pussy and to lightly tickle her inner thighs. The sight was too much for Adam, and he came in his underwear watching her. He momentarily lost his balance but righted himself quickly so he could continue spying.
As Cynthia's body began to undulate, she reached up and began twisting one of her nipples. It was her right nipple, which Adam assumed was the more sensitive of the two. He made a mental note of that fact simply because knowing something intimate and secretive about Cynthia made him feel closer to her. He watched as her fingers probed her inner chamber. He watched until her body rose off the bed and stiffened and her lips parted in a sigh. He watched as her eyes clamped shut. He watched until her body became limp sank loosely into her covers. After a few moments, she reached up to turn off the night light, snuggled with her pillow, covered herself under two blankets and drifted peacefully to sleep.
For a moment, Adam sat back motionless. He then moved to his bed, reached into the back of the top drawer of his nightstand, pulled out the gel that he often used when he masturbated, got a full box of Kleenex, and spent the next couple of hours replaying the scenes over and over in his mind. He came five times before his spent balls finally got a break. That night, he dreamed of sneaking Cynthia into his room, of dancing closely with her as they were both naked, of carrying her to his bed, and of making love to her. He kept his Playboy collection for awhile, but he never again fantasized about any woman other than Cynthia.
Now, Adam was back in his childhood home, visiting his parents. Every time he was alone in his old room, he looked over at the house that Cynthia used to occupy and relived that magical night. Though he'd dated several women over the years and had many sexual encounters, no experience in his life had ever been as erotic as that night watching his dream girl in her bedroom.
In the tenth grade, Cynthia's father had gotten transferred, and the family moved to another state. Adam and Cynthia missed each other terribly and called or wrote almost every day in high school. Over the years, however, their contacts grew less and less. Adam had just finished bringing himself off for the second time when the front doorbell rang. He quickly pulled up his jeans, washed his hands, and checked his hair briefly in his bathroom mirror before bounding downstairs to answer the bell.
When he opened the door, the dark-haired woman whipped off her sunglasses and said, "Hi, Mrs ... Adam?"
"Cynthia?"
"What are you ..." they said simultaneously. Cynthia smiled and Adam melted just as he always did.
"Shock, huh?" she asked.
"Yeah, but a pleasant one! What brings you back to the old neighborhood?" he asked.
"Well, believe it or not, I live near here again. I'm teaching literature and English at Valley Center."
"You're kidding! That's so cool!"
