Days have dragged by slowly for Gary. His thoughts have been plagued by naked images of Paige. It has left him frustrated and miserable, even depressed. He doesn't know if he upset her, if she felt embarrassed by their exhibitionist event, or if she was just playing with him and has gotten bored and moved on. Not knowing is probably the worst part for him. He'd prefer that she just get mad and tell him to stay away, it'd make things easier. Deep down he aches for her to return with her bright smile, her big, green eyes, and those perfect tits dangling in his face.
"Argh," he exclaims in frustration. He berates himself for not being able to control his thoughts logically. He tells himself she has probably forgotten about him and isn't feeling the same things he is feeling. It's been many days since that night, seven actually. He's been keeping track without meaning to do so. Only a week, he tells himself for the tenth time. He's acting like some lovestruck adolescent highschooler.
He's been unable to read any of his books at night without his mind drifting from the story and focusing on images of Paige, especially her face as she orgasmed with him. In his mind her face sparkled, was framed with angelic feathers and a halo floated above her head. Obviously, that wasn't how she actually appeared, but she might as well have, her gorgeous beauty was so extraordinarily amazing. Perfection personified.
The first couple nights he actually left his window open and laid on his bed naked while trying to read a book. Failing miserably he would watch porn, staying up later than he should have been trying to find a video with a girl as beautiful and alluring as Paige. But none compared to her, not even close. Frustratedly jerking off to some blonde bombshell with large, fake boobs.
The next couple nights he still kept his window open but went back to wearing his boxers. He was able to read a little bit in snippets, but inevitably he went back to scouring the porn sites for someone, anyone, that could remind him of Paige and how she made him feel. No one had ever aroused him so thoroughly as she had done. His wanting of her had consumed him so completely that he could conceive of no other substitute.
After that he didn't bother to open the window anymore. Depression and resignation at being abandoned sitting heavily upon his morbid outlook, self-pity threatening to use him as her personal whipping boy, he has certainly become her bitch. A pathetic one at that.
Tonight is the first night that he has been able to focus on his reading, at least marginally. His thoughts still wander to her, but he is able to shake himself free of their grip and return to his book. He feels himself becoming drowsy and lethargic, but he stubbornly continues to read. It will be the first night since that 'night' that he hasn't jerked off to thoughts of Paige and some lackluster porn video distracting him from what he fantasizes about the most.
He awakens the next morning with the book laying on his chest and feeling that his sleep was more fitful than restful. Another night has passed, is it getting easier he wonders?
The next night it is more of the same, and the next, and so on. Until yet another week has passed. He is finding it easier to push her out of his mind and he only needed to jerk off twice in the past seven days, improvement.
Tonight, the heat is oppressive. Finally, he has an acceptable reason to open his window. He waits and puts it off as long as possible, essentially lying in his bed drenched in sweat. Even his fingers are leaving slightly damp imprints on the pages of his book, which mildly irritate him because he takes such meticulous care of his books. Books should be treated with care and respect.
Exhaling with the slightest hint of a deep, guttural growl he slides over to open his window. Immediately cooler air wafts past his body, tingling the sheen of sweat draped all over his body. It almost feels like he has dipped his body into a pool of cool water. A subtle shiver slips winsomely up his spine as the air continues to excite the beads of sweat hanging like overlapping pearl necklaces all over his body.
Leaning his back against the side edge of the window but remaining in his bed, he faces away from the opening, steadfastly ignoring that direction. He lets a small feeling of pride pervade through his thoughts at his insignificant triumph. The words splayed across the page of his book recapture the attention of his thoughts. Time passes and he relaxes, enjoying the cool night air, forgetting about his job, his life, his frustrations and the rest of the outside world.
*Click*
Oh no
, he thinks as he looks over his shoulder.
Paige's window slides up to reveal her long shirt hanging over her body like some obscuring cloak of deception. As the window rises up higher to its peak he sees her lithe arms framing both sides of her face. Her long, blonde hair curls down in slow, sultry waves that crash below her shoulders and further down to her upper chest. It is only a moment, but he studies every subtle contour of her sylvan face. The smooth cheeks articulated above the chiseled jawlines that lead down to her full, pouty lips. She has a wide mouth, her lower lip sticks out just slightly as she tenderly bites down on it. He can easily imagine those puffy lips slowly sliding down and back up the shaft of his rigid cock leaving behind a trail of her mouth's nectar.
Crowning her face like miniature lightning flashes are her dazzling green eyes, which are now studying him in deep thought. How he wishes to know those thoughts, moreso to know that she feels about him the same way he feels about her.
"It's been another hot day. I've been dying while waiting for it to be nighttime so I can open my window again." She states plaintively.
Her lassitude towards him speaks volumes to his fears and worries as to why she has been gone for so long from him. It confirms that he has been suffering in solitude, that she has been indifferent to him. Deep down, he knew it was the strongest contender to explain her absence. She simply lost interest.
She cocks her head slightly to the side and he can tell that she is slightly inquisitive from the look on her face, then she asks, "How about you?"
He responds immediately, like a knee-jerk reaction, "I'm fine."
Her eyes tighten just at the corners in puzzlement but then she continues, "What have you been up to?"
He is still sitting on his bed leaning towards the window and she is sitting on her bed facing him with her shirt draped over her crossed legs obscuring her body except for her arms and face.
He holds up his book, "Just the usual things, reading my books." He accidentally adds just the slightest hint of joviality to his words while trying to effect a certain degree of apathy towards her.
Ignoring his response, causing him a slight twinge of irritation, she begins recounting the events she has been involved in. "Well, I've been making progress on the nudism front. I've been coming to the breakfast table with either panties and a crop top or shorts and a bra. So far no exclamations from either parent. Progress, I think, admittedly slow, but I think that is the best strategy at this point."
"Sounds like you are getting closer to your goal."
"I think I'm about ready to try wearing only panties and a bra. I don't know, maybe I will give my parents some more time to adjust. I feel like I should come up with something for my brother to do to participate but for him to only wear boxers and be shirtless is an acceptable norm."
He responds, "Ok."
She continues nearly oblivious to his noncommittal attitude, "Speaking of my brother, I let him watch me masturbate the other day. It was actually incidental, but it seemed only fair since I have seen him masturbate on more than one occasion."
"How did that go for you?" Gary inquires, grudgingly gaining interest.
"Well, I had already started and he walked in my room. He sat down on the bed near me and I finished with him watching. It was a bit more thrilling, but I think it might have been better if he had joined in."
"You mean touch you?" His voice carries a note of hopefulness.
Chuckling she says, "No, I mean he masturbated while I masturbated. No touching."
"Do you want him to touch you or vice versa?"
Considering for a moment she continues, "I don't really have any interest in having him give me a hand job or vice versa."
"Then why do you lie in bed together naked?"
"Honestly, we are just cuddly people and enjoy the affection."
