Lying completely silent on the floor underneath her bed, I could hear her brushing her teeth in the bathroom. She finished, making a polite spitting noise as she ran water over what I knew was her blue striped toothbrush. I heard the light switch snap and I knew she was coming to bed.
My right index finger twitched nervously. I saw her feet approach the bed, and then watched as panties slid down over her ankles and into view, immediately snatched up by slender fingers. I heard a shift of the fabric I assumed was her shirt then a noise in the closet across the room where I knew she had just thrown her clothing. The feet disappeared one by one and the bed creaked slightly, the springs adjusting under her minimal weight. She was so close, right there, just above me, but I had to wait. Not yet.
The blanket rustled softly as she got comfortable, then a brief silence was answered by the click of a desk lamp off to the right. The room was engulfed in darkness; the only audible sound was her slow, steady breathing. Restraining myself for those last few minutes practically killed me, but I waited until the silence was deafening to start to slide out from under the bed. Just then, the blanket moved loudly.
I froze as my breath caught in my throat, expecting her face to pop under the side and find me hiding there. The panic rose in my stomach as I waited, my heart thundering in my chest. It was all I could do to control my breathing. I closed my eyes as my fate began to sink into my mind.
However, instead of a scream of disgust and horror at the discovery of the man beneath her bed, I was quite surprised to hear a soft moan from above. My eyes snapped open. I listened closely and heard her breathing increase as the sheet rustled again quietly.
Still in shock, I realized that she was masturbating not three feet above me. It was so hard to keep still as I heard her mumbling in her seemingly private pleasure. A certain overwhelming giddiness washed over me as my finger twitched anxiously, both in relief and anticipation. My heart was beating so loudly I feared she would hear it.
She made no effort to stifle her noises, as she now obviously believed she was quite alone in the blackness of her bedroom, but still they were quiet, shy almost. She gasped and the corner of the comforter slid into my view, draped over the edge of her undulating mattress.
My erection suddenly strained against my jeans as I listened to the noises she made, so quiet they were hardly louder than whispered prompts. She threw more of the thick blanket over the edge as I heard a loud gasp. The bed went silent for one of the longest moments I've ever experienced and I held my breath, staring wide-eyed at the bottom of the box spring beneath her.