It had taken two years, but Susan was finally back on her feet after the divorce. It wasn’t like Gary (A.K.A “The Shit”) had ever made a ton of money, but he had been able to at least support them in their small apartment while Susan slogged her way through nursing school. Alone now, Susan found herself facing the choice between education and rent, not to mention utilities, car payments, and groceries. After a miserable evening crying in the dark over a bowl of cold instant ramen after the electricity cut off, she finally swallowed the last of her pride and moved back in with her parents.
It was hard to believe that was only two years ago. It seemed like another lifetime. And while she was grateful to have a place to stay while she got her shit together, she was also glad to finally be out of her parents’ house. It wasn’t just the fact that a thirty-six-year-old woman living with her parents was kind of pathetic, but her mother in particular took every opportunity to remind her that her marriage had failed, that she wasn’t getting any younger, and they thought they’d have at least a couple of grandkids by now. Looking back, Susan doubted that she really could have raised children with The Shit, but her mother still clung to the fantasy.
Susan shook her head to clear it of all the bad memories, then looked around the new place. Sure, the furniture she’d brought with her from her parent’s house was familiar, but the house was new. And it was all hers! It made her feel like a real adult for the first time in a long time. Thanks to her parents, she had graduated school, and even managed to get a steady job at the Clinton State University clinic allowing her to save enough money for a down payment.
With the last of the boxes unloaded from the truck, her mother had offered to help with the unpacking, while her father examined all the door locks, faucets and light switches with the odd grunt and mutter. Susan was eager to be on her own, and assured them that she’d be fine. After a final hug each, she sent them on their way, and then collapsed onto the sofa, basking in her solitude.
A bead of sweat ran down her cheek to her chin. Susan wiped at it with the back of her hand. Moving in had been quite a workout. She pulled the bottom of her T-shirt and waved it, attempting to fan air over her torso. Not getting the desired effect, she looked around, and let it fully sink in: she was finally, truly alone. With devilish excitement that was more childish than she’d like to admit, she pulled the T-shirt off over her head and let it drop carelessly to the floor, exposing her tits to the empty living room. After another minute without anyone to object, she stood and stripped out of her shorts.
Now totally naked, she began to dance around the house without an ounce of shame or embarrassment. She went from the living room to the kitchen, and then back to the bathroom where she admired her body in the large mirror on the wall. She squeezed a buttock, lifted a breast, ran her hands over her stomach and down her thighs. Still in pretty good shape, she thought. She knew of several women her age who were already starting to show signs of age, but fortunately, she wasn’t one of them. She hoped The Shit missed that about her. Whatever else he accused her of being, old and ugly weren’t it. Satisfied, she danced back into the living room. She thought she might try hooking up her stereo so she could have some music to accompany her little spins and jumps.
“Uhh… Hi,” said a nervous voice, startling Susan. She spun around to find a teenaged boy standing awkwardly in her doorway. He was probably seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed in a yellow basketball jersey and a pair of shorts. His eyes bulged in amazement, scanning from her breasts to the small hairless mound between her thighs and back again.
“Shit!” she swore, spinning around looking for something to cover herself with. Her towels and robes were still packed in boxes. Finally, she crossed the room, aware of the boy’s steady gaze on her body, and pulled off a sofa cushion. It just barely concealed her nudity. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Aiden Braun,” said the teen, looking worried. “From next door?... My parents said to bring you this.”
Susan at last noticed that he was carrying a casserole dish in his hands.
“How’d you get in?” Susan demanded to know.
“It was open,” Aiden defended nervously. “I swear! We saw you moving in. They must have left the door open when they left with the truck. I wasn’t trying to see nothing. Honest. Here!”
Aiden dropped the casserole on top of a stack of boxes by the door. Then his hands went to the front of his pants to hide what was more than the beginning of a hard-on. Despite the boy’s athletic build, the gesture was so awkward it disarmed Susan’s initial alarm. Aiden was clearly embarrassed.
“I’m really sorry,” Aiden continued. “Please don’t tell my parents.”
“Jesus, Aiden,” Susan said, “Just get the hell out of here. And next time knock.”
“I did knock,” Aiden argued.
“Then call out,” Susan returned.
“I did!” Aiden persisted.
“Then do it louder,” Susan shot back. “Just go!”
Aiden turned and quickly retreated.
“And thank your parents for the casserole,” Susan shouted after him before the screen door banged shut behind him, though she doubted he heard her.
She walked to the threshold, glanced up and down the empty street and then closed the heavy inside door, making sure to lock it. With the door secure, she returned to the couch, fit the cushion back into place, and then collapsed onto it. A smile spread across her lips like the first crack in a dam, and quickly grew into hysterical laughter. She recalled the boy’s awkwardness, and wondered if she might have been the first woman he’d ever seen naked.
“You see, Susan,” she mock-chastised herself. “This is why you can’t be an adult. First opportunity to prove you’re a responsible member of society and you’re throwing yourself naked at the first neighbor boy you meet!” Another fit of giggles overtook her.
***
It took just a couple of days to finish unpacking her things. For whatever reason (Susan suspected there was some kind of insult buried in the gesture), her father had insisted on giving her his camping equipment, even though she’d never been camping in her life. “You never know,” he had said. Now, they were the final two boxes left to find a space for, and all available space was accounted for in the closets, and garage. The only options left were the attic or the trash. After a few minutes consideration, she decided to store the equipment.
There was an access panel in the ceiling of the hallway, with a cord hanging down. She had to carry a chair all the way upstairs from her dining table. Even standing on it, it was a stretch, but finally, she was able to reach the cord. With a loud violent rattle, the panel pulled downward on a hinge, and a metal ladder came crashing out down to the floor.
“Jesus,” Susan said, catching her breath. She’d nearly fallen off the chair, but managed to keep her balance. Carefully, she stepped down and moved around the ladder. She gazed up into the dark attic. “Jesus,” she said again, feeling a little creeped out.
Susan gathered her nerves, and then took one of the boxes in her arms. Slowly she wrestled it up the steps of the ladder and into the attic. Climbing up behind it, she found a space of exposed insulation, cobwebs and wooden beams. A plank walkway (or crawlway, since there wasn’t enough room to stand up completely), had been constructed over several of the beams. Once she was up she found there was at least a little light filtering in through decorative windows.
As she shoved the boxes further into the dim attic, she heard the clear sound of a starting lawnmower. She turned her eyes in the direction of the noise, and saw that one of the windows was open a crack. The sun was on the other side of the house, and so there was little in the way of light coming through, but Susan’s mind leapt to possibilities of rain damage, invading critters, and runaway electricity bills. She cursed the previous owners for being so damned careless as she walked hunched-over towards the window.
As Susan closed and locked the window in place, she gazed out. The view was limited. If she turned her head one way she could see into the back yard where Mr. Braun was pushing an old red gas-powered mower around his lawn. If she turned it another she could just barely see the street. Looking straight down however showed her another window, and beyond it a messy teen boy’s bedroom with posters of football players and hip-hop stars on the walls. The floor was covered with discarded t-shirts and boxer shorts.
Aiden Braun, Susan thought, recalling the image of the nervous kid standing in her doorway holding his mother’s casserole. She couldn’t help but smile to herself, thinking of the confused, terrified, but also horny expression on his face. The poor clueless boy!
As if conjured by the memory, Aiden suddenly appeared in the window. Startled, Susan attempted to stand, but hit her head. “Ow! Shit!” She cried, her hands going to rub the sore spot. She looked again, but Aiden seemed not to notice her at all. He was scanning the windows below. Looking for what? For her? Maybe hoping to catch another glance of the nudist neighbor?
Susan’s surprise gave way to curiosity. She saw him thrust one hand deep into the pocket of his shorts. She could see it shifting and moving around beneath the fabric as if searching for a lost coin or something. But the motion continued for too long for him to really be digging out a bit of spare change. Slowly it began to dawn on Susan. Was he…? Oh God, what if he was?
Susan knew she should stop watching. She should turn away, go back downstairs, have a glass of wine, watch a bit of TV or something. Forget the whole thing. That’s what a responsible adult would do, wasn’t it? And if what happened next had only waited a few more seconds to happen, she probably would have done just that. But fate was a little too fast, and Aiden dropped his shorts, revealing a surprisingly substantial cock, hanging semi-stiff between his thighs. Aiden gripped it between his thumb and forefinger, and playfully swung it in circles, clearly impressed with himself.
“Jesus,” Susan allowed herself to swear softly.
Aiden gripped the thing in his fist, tugging at it as if choking a serpent. In response his cock swelled and stiffened even more, until it was fully engorged and free-standing. Susan simply stared. It was only fair, she rationalized to herself. He’d seen her naked, so now it was her turn to see him. Speaking of which, could that be what had him so excited? Was it the memory of her dancing in front of him without clothes on? It had only been a few seconds, but she recalled the way his eyes had hungrily devoured her body in that. And now, her curiosity was starting to give way to a familiar warm, tingling sensation.
Without warning, Aiden ducked out of view. Susan felt an instant of disappointment coupled with relief. After all, what the hell was she doing? A thirty-six-year-old woman spying on the neighbors’ son. It was creepy and desperate. Had she really sunk so low since the divorce, to be secretly perving on teen boys? Shouldn’t she be looking for more adult satisfaction?
Aiden reappeared in the window, interrupting Susan’s self-chastisement. He was totally naked now, and his cock was as hard as ever. It twitched excitedly as his hand ran in smooth up and down motions, but it had now taken on a glistening shine right down to the hairless trunk. Susan concluded that Aiden had used some oil or other lube to facilitate things.
He continued searching the downstairs windows of her house, not seeming to suspect that Susan was watching from above. Transfixed once again, Susan let her hands begin to wander her own body, caressing her breasts, and thrilled by the small spark of excitement as she passed over her nipples. She grabbed her tits giving them a firm squeeze and exhaled sharply.
Aiden went to his unmade bed, cock in hand, and lay back on it. Susan watched him toss and turn in a comic attempt to get comfortable while refusing to release his prized cock. He kicked furiously at a loose blanket until it fell in a pile on his floor. Finally, unencumbered, he settled and returned his attention to his rhythmic stroking. After a few moments, he closed his eyes, getting lost in his imagination.
Susan could only wonder what fantasies were running through the boy’s mind. Was he thinking of her that afternoon a few days ago? Was he recreating her body in his thoughts, and if so, what was he doing with it? The possibilities of all the ways his young brain might be using her excited Susan.
Her hand slipped inside her sweatpants and found the desperately wet and needy spot between her legs. She knew it was shameful to be masturbating to this unaware teen boy, but at this point, she could barely help herself. God, it had been so long since she’d seen a cock, and never one so gorgeous as the one Aiden squeezed in his hand.
The pace of his stroking quickened. The swollen purple head consumed by his hand, and then emerging again, and again, and again. Susan slipped her fingers inside herself, seeking out all the right places. Aiden had begun moving his hips, actually thrusting his pelvis up as his hand slid down to the base of his cock. She sensed that he was close. She thought of herself there with him, on top of him, his cock driving hard into her greedy wet pussy.
Suddenly, Aiden’s body seemed to seize up. He gripped his cock tight enough for his knuckles to grow pale. A split-second later a huge jet of thick white cum erupted from the tip of his cock and shot over his stomach and chest. A second spurt followed the first, and then a third. The spectacle tipped Susan over the edge of her own orgasm. All of the building tension released in a rush of tingling pleasure starting in her clit and spreading through her entire body. She let go a small, satisfied moan as she felt her body relax into the warm feeling.
She continued to watch the scene in the next house more from curiosity than sexual compulsion now. She watched Aiden’s chest moving up and down hard, a sort of half-smile across his face as he dabbled his fingers through the trail of cum that crossed his torso. After a minute or two, he finally got up from the bed, his lube-polished cock dangled again, and Susan could just make out the formation of a little pearl of cum still forming at the tip of it. Aiden bent over and picked up an old t-shirt from the floor. He used it to wipe himself down. She noticed him twitch subtly as he cleaned the last dribble of cum from the head of his cock.
Still sensitive, huh? Susan thought to herself with a devilish smile. She remembered the way that she used to enjoy teasing the men she’d been with after they’d cum, and the way that they’d responded to even the lightest of caresses. However, Aiden spent only a minimal amount of time attending to his detumescent member, after which he went to his closet and buried the cum-soaked t-shirt in the bottom of his laundry hamper. Then he slipped easily back into the clothes he’d been wearing and left his bedroom. Ugh, Susan thought to herself. Boys can be so gross!
As for Susan, she felt that a nice long bath would be very welcome at the moment. She left the attic to go and run one for herself, knowing that she’d be replaying what she’d just witnessed in her mind for some time.
