Peep (Brighten Sisters Book 2)

A
ll rights reserved
. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, including photocopying, recording or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

T
his book is
a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

T
he author acknowledges
the trademark status and trademark owners of various products, brands, and/or restaurants referenced in the work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

T
o those who
like to watch!

M
y eyes go
round as I see my beautiful neighbor saunter through her apartment topless. Long blonde hair is swept over one shoulder showcasing her slender neck. Sliding my eyes down, her pert nipples are in full view through my window. She’s average height as evident by her long lean legs peaking out from under her short shorts. Her shades are pulled open for the world to see, so I don’t feel like such a pervert. Any man would have a hard time looking away. My lights are off shielding me from her view; so I continue to watch her with abandon. I wonder if she’ll realize her error and draw the drapes closed effectively shutting me out, but I stomp that thought out. There is no room for negativity when I have her to look at.

She opens her refrigerator and scours the shelves until she locates something from the back. Pulling out a jug of milk, she turns once again giving me a full view of her small but perfect breasts. I can’t make out the coloring, but I imagine her nipples are a soft pink hue. The alley between our panes of glass is only a small gap, but it’s wide enough to force my imagination to work a little harder than I’d like. My glasses are not providing the strength I need to see further, so I do what any voyeur would. I grab my father’s binoculars. Thankfully, he left them here after his last visit. He likes to go to the park and watch “birds”. I’m not buying it, but I’m not any better at this point.

Finally getting a closer view only leaves me more frustrated. I don’t want to just imagine what her skin feels like. I want to caress it, lap at it, feast on it. The thought makes my cock hard. Reaching down my Nike sweatpants I fist my length. Stroking from base to tip, I start to pump my hips in time with my jerking hand. My eyes close and I imagine her hand is on me, cupping my balls and fisting my rock hard cock.

L
ooking back
into the binoculars I see she’s now in front of the television. I watch her flip through some channels stopping on what appears to be a sexual scene. I strain to make out what’s on the screen. Cinemax is on and whatever the show is, it’s dirty.

My dick becomes painfully hard at the sight. If my eyes are working right, I might die a happy man right here. She might as well be watching a porno. The documentary appears to be about sex. She’s turned to the side, but she’s palming her breasts.

“That’s right, beautiful. Play with those tits. Lick that nipple like the naughty girl you are.”

I begin a punishing pace with my hands. Watching her continue to play with her tits, I’ve never been so aroused. She lies back on the sofa and runs her hands down her flat abdomen until she reaches the band of her tiny shorts. When her hand disappears from sight, I go mad with want.

“That’s it, fuck that pussy with your fingers. Get it nice and wet…lick your juices. Tell me what you taste like.”

Pumping my shaft harder is all it takes before cum is forcefully shooting at my window. I ride the orgasm out to completion feeling completely depleted of energy. When I’m finally controlled, I grab a rag and quickly wipe myself clean. My window requires a little more work. As I scrub away the remnants of my act, I jump in surprise to find her trying to hide as she slams the curtains closed.

Shit.

Did she see me?

There’s no way. It’s completely pitch black in here. I had turned off the lights to ensure I wasn’t caught. It’s fine.

I’ve lived across the alley from this spectacular woman for two years. Two bloody years I have watched her through glass. Seeing her long blonde hair pulled into a side braid or loosely piled on top of her head has made my hands ache to run my fingers through the silky strands. I can only guess at the color of her eyes as I haven’t had the pleasure of being that close to her. I’ve dreamt they are a magnificent hazel, a sea green masterpiece rimmed in cerulean, beautiful and entrancing.

Am I obsessed?

Probably.

Do I care?

Not in the slightest.

Watching her gives me a reprieve from my studies. She’s my daydream and wet dream rolled into one blonde-bombshell package. My Marilyn Monroe, gorgeous and utterly untouchable. She’s a goddess, and I am but a lowly mortal.

Dramatic?

Definitely.

I’ve always been this way, completely theatrical. If I had it my way, I’d be tearing up the stage in some famous playhouse as the star performer. But alas, I am not. I’m here at University completing my third year of medical school, per my father’s direction. So my days are full of clinical rotations and cramming the books to try to narrow down my specialty.

One would think that the son of a renowned orthopedic surgeon would naturally gravitate toward the family legacy, but not me. If I have to forgo my dreams of acting, I want to make my own mark on the medical world. Following in dear old dad’s footsteps was never my ambition. My brother Christopher can have that life. He’s always wanted to be a surgeon. I’ve just come to accept that my father will only pay for my education if I do what
he
wants. Don’t be sad for me though, I’ve grown to like the medical field.

Regardless of the fact that I am a medical student with high merits, the girl through the glass is so above me it’s depressing. Girls seem to like me just fine, but this girl could have any guy she wants. Her beautiful face is reason enough for any man to want her, but her body. Good God, that body…it has my cock growing once more. I, Thomas Edwin Chaplin III am no better than a peeping Tom (the unfortunate name coincidence doesn’t escape me).

Glancing once more out my window into the darkness from across the alley, I sigh. Peeping Tom or not, it was the best night I’ve had in some time.

S
uch a bad boy
.

He has watched me from across the alley for two years. He thinks I don’t know, but I do. I secretly crave these moments. The voyeur jerking off to my actions spurs me to step up my game every time. He’s hidden in the dark, but I know he’s there.

Things went further tonight than I’d ever planned. Fingering myself to my peep of a neighbor was probably not the most brilliant thing I could have done. I don’t know him. If I passed him on the street, I’d be oblivious to his presence. The anonymity is what keeps me going with the charade, but he could be a psychopathic kidnapper for all I know.

It couldn’t be helped. My pussy was soaking wet and pulsing with the need to come. I just never imagined the release would be so amazing. It’s an aphrodisiac knowing someone is watching you. Perhaps I’m fucked in the head, but I love it. The thought has me grabbing for my magic bullet. I need more. One orgasm wasn’t nearly enough to quench the lust bubbling up inside me from being watched.

Pulling my panties off completely, I spread my legs wide and slide my fingers down the length of my slit. My fingers glisten back at me from my evident arousal. I place my vibrator on my soaking wet core and rub it gently against my clit, coating it with my juices. When I’m panting with need again, I switch it on. The small machine comes to life, pulsating a rhythm that’s sure to bring me to climax.

Buzzzz

Buzz, Buzz

Buzzzz

Buzz, Buzz

I can feel my inside walls start to contract and pulsate. I’m so close, but I can’t seem to cross the finish line. I need more. Something is missing. My release is on the tip of my tongue, but it’s just out of reach.

Closing my eyes, I start to imagine the man across the alley…

S
triking
green eyes stare back at me. He’s tall with an unshaven face, his long hair pulled back in a sloppy bun. Tattooed sleeves peek out from his tight white thermal that’s rolled up to his elbows. As he works himself, his shirt lifts above his belly button, allowing him more access to fist his cock in his hand. I watch with hooded eyes as his hand runs up and down his thick length, moisture collecting at the tip. He steps up to where I’m spread eagle waiting for him on the couch, and he kneels down, bringing his cock level with my pussy. Then he runs himself up my dripping wet folds causing my whole body to shiver. The head of his cock starts to probe me, dipping in just in an inch then retracting, then pushing all the way in until he bottoms out…

M
y fingers curl upward
, finding my sweet spot and I begin to stroke. With the vibrator on full blast and my fingers massaging the spot, my whole body comes undone, and my insides quiver and quake until I find the release I was so desperate for only moments ago. I lay panting, as my breath regulates. That one was intense.

I am motionless for a few seconds, my heart thumping in my chest. The sounds around me drone on, a soft hum as my senses return. I swear I went deaf from that orgasm. If my eyes had been open, I probably would have lost the use of my sight momentary.

Death by orgasm.

A fit of giggles leaves my body as my cell phone starts to ring from the coffee table in front of me. Placing the vibrator down and picking up my phone, I see my older sister Courtney is calling. Awkward time to talk to her, but we share all our dirty secrets.

“I miss you.”

“Okay…everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just haven’t seen you in forever.” I whine.

“What’s going on and why are you out of breath?”

“Trust me you don’t want to know.” The inflection in my voice hints at something naughty, and I hold back the giggle threatening to expel again.

“Ewww! I totally don’t want to know. Gross. But speaking of sex, have you spoken with Sam?”

“Not in the last few days. Is everything okay?”

“Okay, so you didn’t hear it from me, but apparently she’s dating an online porn star.”

My mouth drops open.
No way.
“What? Shut up.”

“I’m serious. So remember how she said she was dating that guy Adam, her boss’s son? Well, check out the gossip column in this week’s newspaper. Apparently her hot new beau is the main attraction on Plunge.”

I swear if Courtney were here right now she would have to pick me up off the floor and sew my eyes shut from bugging out. No way was Sam dating a porn star.

“Ney, come on. That could just be a rumor.”

“Nope. Confirmed. I called her and asked.”

“Oh my God. Is she okay? Should I call her?”

“She’s fine. They’re working it out. Give her a few days to call you and then play dumb, okay.”

“Yeah, okay. Everything okay other than that?”

“Yeah, peachy. Just running out the door, but I wanted to tell you just in case you hadn’t heard.”

“Okay, I’ll speak to you later. Love ya,” I say as I blow a kiss on the phone and hang up.

So Sam isn’t a prude after all. Interesting. Maybe just maybe she’ll save me from our parents’ wrath when they find out their baby girl likes to dance basically nude.

Burlesque is my escape from the hustle of everyday life. Nursing school is taxing and expensive since I chose NYU College of Nursing to study. I’ve kept my form of income secret from my parents. They constantly ask how I’m keeping up with my bills since I refuse to take their money, but I always dodge those questions. It might not be a pole I’m peddling, but burlesque is its own type of naughty and my
uber
conservative parents would
never
approve.

Thank you, Sam, for taking the heat off of me for a little longer.