So, I was in my bedroom when Madeleine breezed in. "Are you jackin' off?" she asked me cheerily.
"Uh, not yet."
"Well maybe we should get you started."
"You crack me up, Maddy."
Madeleine is a slender woman of average height or so, with short, curly dark hair and smallish breasts set into a broad chest. At this moment, she was wearing a bra and a pair of plaid boxer shorts with her long clitoris thrusting itself out through the opening in front. She thrust her pelvis forward and pointed at it. "Look, Sage," she ordered. It was really sexy to look at, and she was smirking at my delight. "Take yours out," she instructed me. I was wearing jeans and a sleeveless beater and I stood up and opened my pants to display my...uh...self. Madeleine nodded up and down. "Cool. Tres cool." She looked around the room then, registered the fact that the curtains were wide open, and nodded towards the window. "Isn't that little Bess Carver's bedroom window right over there? Of course it is," she went on, answering her own-rhetorical-question. "So you were actually about to beat off for the little voyeuristic minx."
"Don't talk so loud," I warned. "If she hears you, it will ruin the illusion of accidentality."
Madeleine threw me a leering wink. "Okay. I can work with this," she said in sotto voce. "Okay, Sage," she said in a loud voice, "take off your pants for me. I want to see your beautiful body stark staring naked."
I pulled down my pants as if shyly and hopped out of them and then, to Madeleine's nodding instructions, removed my tee shirt also. I hadn't been wearing drawers and so I was naked then.
"Turn around," Madeleine ordered, "so I can see all of you." When I turned around, I was facing the window. Madeleine came around from behind me to look at me from the front. "Are you sure she's actually there?" she whispered.
"I can hear her breathing," I whispered back. "Listen. Or maybe she's just rustling around. I don't know."
Madeleine nodded several times and then whispered, "I just heard her light a cigarette. Isn't she a little young to smoke?"
"I've seen her smoking before," I whispered.
Just then Florenz, another of our housemates, came bounding into the door. He looked around at us, looking a little startled. "I interrupted something," he started out tentatively and then added, "I hope." Madeleine laughed. Then, her back to the window, she whsipered to Florenz, "We're putting on a show, we're just starting, for the young lady next door. You're going to like this. You can join in." He looked at her quizzically and whispered, "Why are we whispering?" Madeleine shook her head. "So as not to give away that it's a show." Florenz instantly removed his jeans, his black silk boxers and his buttoned sport shirt and went to stand next to me so that we were both facing Bess's window. "Now, my fine feathered friends," Madeleine began in a normal voice meant to carry between the houses, "let me see you two guys make yourselves hard."
"So that's Bess Carver over there in the window?" Florenz whispered.
"Yes," I answered. "You know her?"
"Of course: she's our nextdoor neighbor. I've talked to her several times."
I had talked to her too and now, standing there naked, I recalled our first in person so to speak meeting. We were both in the alley behind our two houses and she spoke to me. She was sitting on one of the three concrete steps that went from her backyard to the alley. She was dressed in short shorts and a middy blouse and she was smoking a cigarette. "Hi," she called out to me, standing up and approaching me with her arm outstretched for a handshake. I took her hand. "I'm Elizabeth Carver," she told me and so I introduced myself as we shook hands, one of those extended handshakes that went on for a while. I liked touching her. She patted my hand with her left hand just before she let go of the handshake. She was smiling up at me. I had been jacking off in the window for her for a couple of weeks and was a bit flustered (and excited) meeting her face to face like this. She was a very perceptive person apparently. She said as I looked at her face, "You're so tense. Don't worry. I'm completely trustworthy. My lips are sealed." Then she made the zipper gesture across her mouth. This was in a sense even more disconcerting because it seemed to definitely imply our clandestine relationship, as it were. Then she took a big drag on her cigarette and turning her head to one side blew out a cloud of smoke. "I'm eighteen, you know," she said proudly, "so I can smoke."
"You look sexy doing it too," I told her.