New Year's Surprise

The first time he saw her naked was New Year's. It was after 2, and the party his parents had had was breaking up. His girlfriend had left twenty minutes ago and he was getting ready to go to bed. He had turned out his light, then crossed the room to pull down the shade when he saw that the light was on in her bedroom in the house next door. Her shade was still up and he paused, curious, waiting a moment to see if he would catch a glimpse of her. After a minute or so he chided himself for being a peeping tom and reached up to pull down the shade.

At that moment she entered the room, reaching behind her to unzip the red dress she'd worn to whatever New Year's Eve party she had just come from. She went to her dresser and removed her jewelry – earrings, watch, and a gold necklace – then crossed the room and disappeared into her walk-in closet.

Curious, he waited, taking small shallow breaths, as though he were afraid she might hear him and discover what he was up to.

A few minutes later she emerged from her closet wearing a black bra and panties. He drew his breath in sharply and smiled. Oh my God, he thought. She crossed the room in her underwear and this time disappeared into the bathroom.

He stayed at the window, watching. He'd seen her in a bikini before, several times wearing a lot less than the bra and panties he'd just seen her in, as she sunned herself at the edge of her pool, but somehow seeing her in her underwear was more erotic.

He didn't know much about her. She was in her late 30's, recently divorced, with a daughter a year or so older than he was. She didn't work – apparently the settlement gave her enough to live on. She was small, just an inch or two over 5 feet, a little heavy around the hips but still had a nice tight ass, and breasts that he had calculated to be about 36Cs. Seeing her in her underwear, he had begun to feel the faint stirrings of an erection. He had hoped that he and his girlfriend would have been able to slip away at his parents' party long enough to satisfy the urges he had felt earlier, but that never happened. The most he had been able to do was squeeze her breast during the midnight kiss, and had gotten a slight grazing of fingernails across his crotch in return.

And now here he was, getting a hard-on from seeing his neighbor in her underwear as he spied on her through her open bedroom window.

She came out of the bathroom naked. He said "Oh shit," and his erection went from half-limp to fully hard in an instant. Her breasts were full and heavy, tipped by quarter-sized dark brown aureole, and her pubic hair was neatly trimmed in a small V between her legs. She crossed to her bed, picked something up off it, and slipped it over her head. She had only been naked for ten seconds before the nightgown was on and she was clothed again, but his penis was rock hard.

She turned out the light and, he presumed, went to bed.

He lay down on his own bed, too excited to sleep now. He closed his eyes and pictured her again, emerging naked from the bathroom, full breasts swaying, the nipples large and dark. He grabbed his erection in his hand and began to stroke it, pumping the shaft as his image shifted down, across her stomach and lower, to the thatch of hair between her legs. The image in his head lasted longer than the ten seconds she'd actually been naked in front of him, and now he pictured her sitting on the bed, still naked, spreading her legs for him, letting him see not only her pubic hair but the shape and outline and lips of her womanhood, looking at him now as she spread those lips open with her fingers and rubbed them, moaning, cupping her full breasts with one hand as the fingers of her other hand pushed between her lips and slipped inside her, disappearing into what he knew were the warm wet folds of her equally warm and equally wet pussy.

He was dripping pre-cum now, and the shaft of his cock was wet and slippery, his hand almost a blur as he masturbated, stroking himself, feeling his balls tighten, hoping for, praying for, the release he knew was only moments away. In his mind's eye he watched her masturbate on her bed, bringing herself to an orgasm he could see and hear and taste. He watched her thighs quiver as she came, watched a line of wetness seep from the inner folds of her vagina, down her thighs and under her buttocks, wishing it was real, wishing he was there to put his face between her legs and taste that line of juice that ran down her thighs and formed a wet spot beneath her.

And all the while he stroked and pumped, rubbing the shaft of his penis, his wet hand moving up and down and over the sensitive head, stroking and pumping until he felt something rip from inside him and his orgasm erupted and jet after jet of thick semen spurted from his cock and squirted across his stomach.

He pumped and squeezed and stroked until only a small bead of cum remained on the tip of penis, and then he lay back and drew in a deep breath, his cock still hard and semen starting to pool in his belly button.

"Holy shit," he said, and reached for a tissue to clean himself up.