Peeping Samantha

This story is owned by me, LittleMissSinister.


It felt so… naughty. Does this make me a pervert? Does it mean I’m depraved? The muscles of my belly were tense and I barely breathed.

My family moved into a new house, about six months ago. After I had settled into my new room, I had discovered that from my window I can see straight into the bedroom of the neighboring house. The sole occupant of the residence was a man, about thirty, thirty five or so. And, well, he’s my subject of perversion.

I diligently observed the brightly lit square from between my thick curtains. I noticed the light come on from across the gap between our houses about ten minutes ago. I had scrambled to my bedroom door, turned the lock and checked it several times to ease the anxiety burning my throat. Peering through the miniscule opening in the curtains, I finally saw him.

His tan bronzed skin was covered in sheen, his red t-shirt darkened at the collar. He must have been working out. I fisted the drapes in excitement – that meant he would be taking a shower soon. I watched as he ran a hand through his damp, dark, hair and stretched his arms for a moment before disappearing from my view. His figure reappeared shortly in the backdrop of light, walking back and forth a few times, while, I can only assume, gathering his showering necessities.
I watched as he reached for the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up, followed by his undershirt, to reveal his firm abdomen. When his hand moved to the waist of his sweatpants, I did the same, tugging my panties down my thighs and cupping my warm mound.
His boxers came off, and, as always, I stared. I was somewhat disappointed to see that his cock was limp, but maybe later I would get to see it harden in his hand, bathed in the dim light of the T.V as he watched one of his favorite porn videos. I massaged my pussy a little.
A towel was thrown over his muscled shoulder and fresh clothes were laid on the bed. He walked through the bathroom door and out of my sight.

I collapsed onto the floor beneath the window, my hands thrown over my face.

His name is Damien.

And I… I’m only nineteen. He’s thirty- something! I can’t believe how weird this is. I remember when my family first moved in and my mom invited him to have dinner with us. I hadn’t heard much about him, only that he was ‘a pleasant man, works in an office a few blocks from the bank,’ according to my father. Of course, I didn’t bother to style my hair or wear a nice outfit. I regret it now.

He probably thinks I’m just a quiet, shy, plain girl. I’ve been seeing him a lot more since summer break started. My mother volunteered me a few times to help him around the house, since he lives all alone. I always try to look pretty, but not excessively so. I don’t think he really notices, though.

A faint sound alerted me to Damien’s return. I reassumed my position at the window and gripped each side of the curtain to part it inconspicuously and look through. My window was open, and so was his, so there was no glass to obstruct my clear view. He seemed to have dried off in the bathroom and was now getting dressed. I sighed contently and reached down to stroke gently at my swollen clitoris. I pulled up my camisole and rubbed my perky dark nipples against the velvety drapes. Soft moans escaped my throat and I almost hoped Damien would hear me. The thought both thrilled and terrified me.

Damien stood shirtless at his collection of DVDs, most likely selecting a porn film to watch. I flicked my fingers quickly across my clit and moaned a little louder. I wanted him! Damien turned away from his DVDs and walked toward the window, affording me a closer view of the dark covering of hair on his broad chest. He stopped, his entire body going still, and then took another step closer to look out of his window. I tightened my hold on the curtain, my heart speeding up from my coming orgasm and from how close he was.

“Samantha?”

I gasped and desperately attempted to tug the curtain closed, only to pull too hard and have it dislodge completely from the window frame.

Damien looked right at me, my shirt pulled up over my breasts and my panties tangled around my feet along with the fallen drapery. He looked shocked… and probably furious that I had been spying on him… God!

I fell to the floor and tried to hide, too scared to apologize or explain. I stayed curled up on the floor for several long minutes, trying to calm my heart rate and cool my cheeks.
When I finally worked up the courage to take a peek, I saw that Damien was gone and the lights were turned off. Sudden fear gripped my throat when I realized he could be coming over right now to tell my parents… to tell them that their only daughter had been watching him for who knows how long. The thought had me jumping up and tugging on clothes. I ran to the staircase and peeped over the railing. My mother was in the dining room, setting four places for dinner. She noticed me at the top of the stairs and called to me.

“Samantha, go get dressed. Damien is coming for dinner in a little while.” Panic fluttered in my belly and I ran down, almost tripping and falling in my clumsy haste.

“Um, you know what, Mom, I feel a little sick. I don’t think I want eat anything tonight.”My mother turned around and placed a hand on her hip.

“You don’t look sick,” she pressed a hand to my forehead. “And you don’t have to eat too much, but it would be rude to not show up. Damien’s been very nice to us, helping us out with yard work and such. Show a little respect, Samantha.” She turned back around to continue fixing up, signaling the end of the conversation.

I made my way back up to my room, dread settling heavily over me. He wouldn’t mention it at dinner, not while we were all eating – would he?

Back in my room, I sat for a moment on my bed, staring anxiously at the fallen curtains. I suppose I may as well make an effort to look somewhat pretty. I pulled on a simple white dress falling a bit above my knees. It looked charming against my pale skin, sweet and clean… as opposed to how perverse I felt on the inside. I brushed out my dark honey shaded hair and turned around in the mirror, trying to dissipate my nervousness.

A knock at the door caught my attention and I considered giving my mother one last argument to not come down. I gripped the knob, parted my lips, and opened the door.

Damien was smiling down at me, his hand resting on the door frame. I felt warm all of a sudden.

“Hey, your mother said it’s time to come down.” he said, his tone casual, as if the last half hour had not occurred. Hopefully he didn’t notice the still tangled drapery. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I nodded mutely, desperately avoiding his brown eyes. He turned to walk down the stairs and I closed my eyes, thankful that he hadn’t mentioned my… misbehavior. I took small steps behind him, observing his dark blue jeans and black button up. He was so handsome.

~O~

I fidgeted at the table, having no desire to consume any food. Damien sat next to me, like he always does during his visits, across from my parents.