The New Neighbour 12

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This story grew out of an online roleplay and I have tried to write it mainly in first person, as if it was happening in real time. I hope the style doesn't jar too much, and that you enjoy the story.

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These last few weeks before going off to start University just seem unending. I'm eager to get away, to start a new life, to do what I want to do.

My friends are all off on holiday, and I am left to just hang on my own. Mum knows I am restless to get away and still hasn't given up trying to give me warnings about keeping myself safe, even going so far as to warn yet again about unwanted pregnancy. She seems to have accepted that I will have a sex life as a student, even if she doesn't seem to like the idea.

Just as well she doesn't know that I already have one, although it is pretty limited. I only really slept with Tom those few times because I didn't want to start Uni as a virgin, and he was the least offensive of the guys in my crowd. He was one of Mary's exes and she had said he was good in bed, but it wasn't everything I had been looking forward to, ending too quickly, just as I started to feel myself getting close.

Disappointing or not, it had been a water-shed, and now, having crossed the Rubicon, I am determined that the new me won't be hanging back when it comes to exploring and fulfilling my newly-awakened sexual needs. Hopefully, when I finally get to the University, there will be someone better out there, who can last more than two minutes.

Stretching out on the sun bed, I see something blocking the new hole in the fence, the neat round one that appeared last week after our new neighbour moved in. I don't think Mum and Dad have noticed it yet, you have to be low down to actually see it. I'm pretty sure the new neighbour is having a look at me. I try not to giggle to myself as I think of him crouching down to look through and wonder what he is doing on his side of the fence.

At least he seems reasonable. The time Mum invited him to look in for coffee, he had been chatty and pleasant, speaking to me as a grown up, rather than some kid. About the same age as my parents, but quite trim and fit looking. I smile, remembering how Mum had sent me upstairs to "look respectable* and put on a longer pair of shorts and a bra before he arrived. It didn't stop him snatching glances at my thighs every time I crossed or uncrossed my legs...which I probably did more than a "respectable" girl should.

I had left them to chat, going out into the garden to read my book, and it was just the day after that that the hole in the fence appeared. I should be shocked and worried, and should probably have told my parents but, hey, live and let live. If he gets his rocks off that way, good for him. At least he isn't as bad as that creepy husband of Mum's best friend. At Mum's birthday party a couple of months ago he had manoeuvred me into a corner, and then managed to "accidentally" brush his hand across my nipples every time he took a drink from his glass. And he took a lot of little sips.

Knowing I am being watched gives me a sort of perverse thrill, a little tingling in my body. I see the hole in our six-foot fence lighten and darken, presumably as he moves behind it, keeping out of sight. It is sort of flattering to think someone thinks you are worth looking at, especially an older guy, who must have had a few women in his past.

Feeling naughty, I check Mum isn't watching from the kitchen, and then slide my feet so that one is on each side of the sun bed, my thighs spread, and the thin material of the bikini bottom stretched tight across my mound. I hear a little rustle from the fence and guess he is settling down to have a close look. I lie back into the sunbed, my eyes closed, acting all innocent, pretending I don't know he is looking through the hole, and I idly move a hand to adjust my top, cupping and shifting each breast in turn, taking care to rub my nipples, so that they start to raise little bumps in the bikini top.

Then I leisurely let my hand drift downwards, fingertips grazing over my stomach down to the bikini bottom, and on to my mound. I shiver at the touch, my body tensing. It feels good, and I stroke my finger slowly back and forward. I am being greedy, I tell myself. I have brought myself off once already today. Not having to rush out to school means I can lie longer in bed; or rather, lie naked on top of it as the warm early morning sun bathes the room, slowly fingering myself to orgasm. I had only meant to rub my hands over my body a couple of times, a light tease for the watcher behind the fence, but it feels too good to stop. I bite my lip softly as I press my wandering fingers hard against my mound, slightly surprised to find myself already a little damp there. I push my knees out a little wider, and with a last quick glance behind to make sure I can't be seen from the house, I start to rub between my folds, the narrow band of the bikini bottoms already slipping between them, trying to climb up inside me.

The day is perfectly still, not even birds chirping, and I can hear some heavy breathing from the far side of the fence. I stroke harder with my finger, sliding it under the bikini bottom, pulling it to the side, giving my fingers free access. In spite of my morning play, I still feel horny, and the idea of playing with myself out here on the sunbed rather in the privacy of my room is taking my breath away. The fact that a virtual stranger, a neighbour I have spoken to once, can see what I am doing makes the whole thing so spectacularly hot, my juices are already flowing freely.

I am now staring at the hole in the wall which has gone completely dark, telling me is there, pressed up against the fence. I drive two fingers knuckle deep into my wet pussy, finger fucking myself the way I normally only dare do when I know I am alone in the house. It seems so unreal to be doing this, knowing I am being watched and all of a sudden, I realise I am going to cum and cum hard. My back arches up from the sunbed, I cram my other hand into my mouth, biting down on it to stifle the rising moan and then it floods over me, one of the hardest orgasms I have ever had.

I hear a long drawn-out groan and a muttered 'fuck!' from the direction of the fence, but I am breathless, my chest heaving, my breasts rising and falling fit to burst out of the bikini top. I lie back again head still swimming and reluctantly ease my fingers back out. They are sticky and shiny with my juices and I lift them to my lips, taking them fully into my mouth, sucking on them cleaning them. I have always liked the taste of my own juices, but this time they seem to have an even greater flavour than before.

I can still see movement on the far side of the hole, and I get up, and walk off to the side, adjusting my bikini bottoms, until I know I am out of sight both of the hole and the house. I look down at myself, my hard nipples threatening to burst out through the bikini top, the dark wet stain on the bottoms seeming to widen as I look. I will have to hide them from mum. I pick up the wraparound sarong that I had worn earlier, and, sure that I can't be seen from the house, I ease off the soaking wet bottoms, covering myself with the wraparound.

I know I should go back to the house to change and wash out the offending garment before mum sees it, but I am now driven by curiosity. Is the neighbour still watching, hoping for a repeat performance? I approach the fence, a few yards to the side of the hole so that I can't be seen, and creep along to the hole. Light is shining through, meaning he isn't pressed up against it, and I feel a little disappointment. I reach the hole and place my eye to it, and then gasp.

Through the hole, right in front of me, I see someone's kneeling torso, naked except for a pair of faded denim shorts round its knees and, standing out proudly above the shorts, a hard erect cock, a little white bead just dropping from its tip. I stared at the cock, so different from Tom's; thicker, and longer. A hand is clasped round its root, but that covers only half the shaft, and not the big bulb of the dripping cockhead. I have only seen four cocks in real life before, and two of them had been in the dark of the back row of the local cinema, almost covered by my hand. This cock seems enormous by comparison.

My gasp must have been heard because next thing I find myself looking into an bright blue eye, and then I see the figure turn, straightening, moving, trying to pull up the shorts as he ran, that big cock swinging from side to side as he moved. I had a few seconds to see his tanned and toned back before he dived through his door and was lost to sight.

Stunned by what I had seen, a number of thoughts were going through my mind, and the sheer enormity of what I had done broke over me. I had let someone watch me while I finger fucked myself to orgasm. Someone had been kneeling on the other side of the fence, just about three yards away from me as I drove my fingers deep into my wet pussy. And that someone had taken his cock out, wanking himself as he watched me. What had made me be so rash as to do that? What if the watcher told someone, his friends...shit, what if my parents heard about it?

Still shocked by my own behaviour I wandered around the garden in a sort of daze, stopping by the old gate between the two gardens. I looked up towards his house, wondering what he was doing, what he had been thinking while he had been wanking as he watched me. And I blush as I think about the big cock I had seen and I find myself wondering what it would feel like to have a cock that size pushing deep inside me.

I decide that I better go indoors, get my head straight. The sarong wraparound is almost see through, and I have to sneak past mum and upstairs quickly. I make it to my bedroom unseen and flop down on the bed, and that is when I realise I have dropped the bikini bottoms somewhere. I quickly pull on some clothes and run down to the garden -- well I can hardly go bare-arsed, can I? I retrace all my steps and find myself at the gate between the two gardens, which was swinging loosely open. It had been closed earlier and I hadn't opened it, so who had? I close it again and continued to search, but the pale blue bikini bottoms are not in the garden.

I am a bit subdued the rest of the day, and I take myself off to my room quite early after watching some TV with my parents. I am still a bit apprehensive about the neighbour telling them what I had been doing, but I reason with myself that that would mean him having to admit he had been peeking. So, I am probably safe there. I exchange a few messages with friends but don't mention anything about this afternoon's adventure, not even to Mary, whom I usually tell everything to.

As I lie in bed, thinking back over the day, my fear and guilt seems to drain away, and other thoughts take over. And right at the forefront of those other thoughts was that big swinging cock that I had gaped at for the few seconds before he ran off. It had seemed really big, one of the biggest cocks I'd ever seen, including the dick pics and the porn videos guys sometimes sent you for a prank. That thought kept surfacing, nagging, impressing itself on my brain. Why was I constantly thinking of how his cock had looked as it swung between his legs? My fingers do their nightly task of exciting then relaxing me, and as I slide them into me, I find myself again wondering just what a cock like that would feel like in me.

Next day is sunny again, so I take the sunbed out once more, blushing furiously when mum says, 'have fun.' The sun was at a good angle, so I lay the sunbed down even closer to the fence, its eye-hole only two yards away from my feet. Yesterday had opened up an exhibitionist streak in me and my nipples are already hard and pushing through the clean yellow bikini as I think about being watched, and what I will do if he is there again.

But will he watch today? He knows that I know he had been watching, he had seen me looking back through the fence. It might put him off, make him worried about me complaining, maybe even calling the police. Yeah, I was taking a chance, touching myself -- well, more than that, furiously finger-fucking myself, be honest -- which might get me into trouble with my parents. But he had been spying, through a hole he had drilled in the fence, deliberately peeping. Would he take the risk again, knowing that it was the sort of thing that could get him arrested? Or would he know I had been putting on a show for him -- a show which in the excitement of being watched I had let go a lot further than I intended -- and come back for more?

And then another thought occurred. Was it actually my neighbour who had been watching? What if it was someone else, someone working on the house or the garden, a complete stranger who would have no qualms about telling people about the slag who had finger-fucked herself in the next garden? Somehow, although it should unnerve me, make me hold back, that thought seemed to make my whole plan even more perversely exciting.

I slip off the wrap-around sarong and settle myself, pulling up the back of the sun lounger so I am more sitting up than lying flat. It also makes sure Mum can't see what I am doing. I reach behind myself, loosening the clip at the back, so that when I sit back again, the cloth just loosely covers my breasts, hanging from the little strings round my neck. That will allow me to touch (and show!) my breasts and cover quickly if mum appears. I sip the iced drink I brought with me, and relax, pretending to read my magazine, all the while watching the hole in the fence.

After 10 minutes I get bored waiting, put down the magazine and start to slide a hand under the loosened top, squeezing my breasts, tweaking the nipples. If he isn't looking, so what? No need not to have some fun any way. I pull the top above my breasts, both hands now caressing and fondling, teasing my nipples into hardness. I reach down into the glass and pull out a half-melted ice-cube.

I touched it first to my tongue, licking off the melt-water, then slowly ran it down between my breasts, thrilling at the coldness against my warm body. I draw it slowly up the curve of my right breast, then pressed it against my hard nipple. I gasped as the thrill ran through my body and moaned as I transferred it to the left nipple. It felt every bit as good as my friend Mary had said it would. I rubbed the ice cube against each nipple in turn for a few minutes until the thrill eased off as my nipples adjusted to the temperature.

Glancing up from looking at my nipples, I see the hole is blocked. He -- or someone -- is there! I feel a tingling flutter inside as I realise I am being watched once more, and I smile to myself. The play with the ice-cube is thrilling enough, but now, knowing I am being watched gives everything that extra tingle. I reach down, scooping out the last and largest ice cube from the empty glass, and run it once more through my cleavage. But this time I continue down, circling my navel twice and then on to the skimpy bikini bottoms. I slide it down onto my mound, the melting ice meeting the spreading damp from between my legs. The tingle as the cold plays against my most sensitive parts brings an involuntary gasp and moan, and I have to bite hard on my lip to keep silent.

Like yesterday, I spread my legs wide, feet now on the ground, my knees pulled up. My left hand pulls the bikini bottom aside and I moan again as the ice touches my bare pussy lips. I stroke slowly up and down, wondering why I have not done this before. Looking up, I think I see the fence shake slightly and I know for sure I am having an effect on the hidden watcher.

Feeling an almost uncontrollable excitement, I look directly at the hole and pout my lips, blowing a little kiss. Then I climb back on the sunbed, facing away from the fence, towards the house, checking Mum isn't at the kitchen window. Kneeling on the lounger, I lay the ice cube on the surface for a second, and then ease the bikini bottoms down off my arse cheeks to mid-thigh. I wiggle slightly, knowing that my pussy is exposed directly to the watcher. Then I take up the ice again, run it slowly between my pussy lips. Once, twice, up and down....and then I slowly push it into me.

My eyes go wide at the new sensation, ice touching my hot wet pussy walls. My whole body spasms and it is all I can do not to cry out as I lose control and the orgasm rips through me. Gasping for breath, I control my shaking limbs and then I feel a dribble of liquid running down my thighs, juices or melt-water, who knows? I ease the bikini bottoms back up, and turn, my breasts still exposed and I stand, a little shaky on my feet, and walk towards the fence.

I crouch down, my nipples at hole height, and lean forward. The shape behind the fence moves, drawing back, but not running away this time. I see a squatting shape, shorts halfway down the thighs, and that big cock, pointing straight at me. I watch as his hand moves on the shaft, sweeping up to the crown and down again, the big red head seeming to wobble on each stroke. I hear a long groan, a gasp and suddenly the cock is spurting. As I watch open mouthed, a big jet of white cum shoots towards me. As I involuntarily jerk back, I hear something splatter against the fence. I lean forward in time to see another jet, and then another, shoot from the cockhead to hit against the fence. A final spurt erupts, this time falling short. Then the figure moves to the side, and I no longer see him. I hear another couple of grunts and wonder if it is still shooting.

Still a little lightheaded after the intense orgasm, and excited by my turn at watching, seeing him stroking his cock and cumming with such force, I realise that he too had put on a show, deliberately drawing back from the fence to let me see him masturbate, to see his large cock in all its glory. I blush, realising I can no longer play the innocent, offended, party. I too am guilty, not just of exhibitionism, but of voyeurism as well. And, again, I wonder what it would be like to hold that cock in my hand...and to have it push into me.

As I recovered, I saw a bead of white liquid form on the upper surface of the hole, lengthening into a fully-fledged drop which I caught on my outstretched finger and lifted to my lips. I dabbed my tongue at it, tasting its saltiness, and the texture of it as it spread over my tongue. Not so different from the couple of times I had tasted cum previously, but a sudden tremor ran through me as the full import hits me: I am tasting the cum of a stranger, not a lover. I thought it was the neighbour I had met briefly for 10 minutes last week, but was I sure? Did he maybe have someone working in the garden or a visitor staying with him? All I really knew about the watcher behind the fence was that he was male...and god, was he male! That cock was bigger than anything I had seen in my admittedly sheltered life.

Shaking, both exhilarated and, admit it, frightened, by what I had done, I smoothed down the bikini top, slipped on the sarong and went back to the house and tried to get my head back together. What had I done over the last two days? Me, the quiet, studious nerd of our year, regarded as having little interest in the few boys who could look past my friend Mary's 34C figure to even notice me? To masturbate openly, knowing I was being watched, not just once but twice, and then to watch in turn while my watcher wanked off? Yes, I had decided I wasn't going to be a mousy wall-flower in my new student life. And yes, I had slept with Tom, mainly because I didn't want to be a virgin starting University, and because he was the least obnoxious of the boys I knew. It hadn't been a great thrill either time, and I had only cum when I fingered myself after I got home. I was secretly glad when he went off with his mates on a boy's holiday, now doubt hunting other girls, and probably disappointing them too. But what was happening to me, now? I lay on the bed, trying to rationalise what I was doing, and fighting a losing battle against the urge to masturbate once more.