Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ----------------------------------------------------------------------
SINCE YOU LIKE TO WATCH by Jessica Knight <knightjar at yahoo.co.uk>

   Part Two - m(mast),mf(voy)
----------------------------------------------------------------------

   I walked on eggshells for several days following my escapade, hardly
even daring to look out of my window for fear of finding Jaynie staring
back at me from her own.  I studiously ignored her house, even changing the
route I took to school to avoid passing near it.  This was not the worst of
it, though.

   Despite having experienced what every boy on the planet would surely
count the most incredible fantasy, I found I just couldn't masturbate any
more.  It wasn't that I couldn't get hard, or wasn't horny---far from
it---but every time I thought about sex I remembered her glaring down at
me. Whenever I got hard, accidentally or deliberately, I felt like I was
being watched.  It put a serious damper on my activity and I got rather
frustrated.  I even started getting wet dreams again.

   Fortunately, after about a week I started to relax.  I rationalised that
Jaynie obviously wasn't going to tell anyone about what I'd done because
she'd have to say what /she'd/ done too.  I do wonder if during that time I
had been watched, because not long after that I got a phone call.

   My mother handed me the receiver one saturday afternoon saying one of my
friends was asking for me---I asked who it was but she said she didn't
recognise the voice.  However, when I said hello at first all I got was
silence.  I was about to hang up when a voice whispered in my ear.

   "How many times?"

   "What?"

   "How many times have you wanked off since you spied on me?"

   I went cold.  It had to be Jaynie.  I don't know how she had learned my
number, we'd always been ex-directory.  I twitched around to make sure no
one was near me.  I'd never had my mother walk in on me, but I rated
talking about it when she might overhear to be almost as bad.  I decided to
act as if someone was playing a practical joke.

   "Yeah, yeah," I said, "very funny.  I'm going to put the phone down now,
okay?"

   "Don't get smart with me Andrew Hughes," Jaynie's voice hissed.  "One
call from me and you'll be arrested.  THEN what will people think?"

   I pulled the receiver close to my mouth and lowered my voice.  "What do
you want?"

   "In five minutes, you're going to walk around here and knock on the
front door.  FRONT door, mind you.  Civilised people don't climb over the
back fence."

   "And then what?"

   "Never you mind.  You just do as you're fucking told.  Five minutes."
CLICK.

   What should I do?  I could ignore her---after all, she could have a
whole bunch of people waiting for me, or maybe just a few who were going to
knock my lights out or something.  She couldn't seriously tell anyone,
could she?  Who'd believe her if she left out the bit about dragging me
inside?  Then again, dragging someone into your room and, well, doing
/that/ probably wasn't illegal, but peeping though windows might be.  And
even if it wasn't, if she got her version out first who'd believe /me/ ?

   "Who was it?" my mother called through from the kitchen.

   "Er, oh, it was Mark," I improvised.  "He asked me to meet him in town.
Couple of people are going."

   There it was.  Somehow I'd decided to play along.  I got my bike out of
the garage---I had to make it look like I was heading into town---and
cycled the long way around from my house to Jaynie's.  I wheeled up the
drive and propped it against the front wall, then immediately changed my
mind and pushed it around the side so it was out of view.  Then I knocked
on the front door.  My hands were shaking.

   The door opened and Jaynie stood there in jeans and a tshirt.  She
smiled menacingly at me.

   "Come in."

   She took me into one of the front rooms, which had an enormous bay
window overlooking the front garden, and sat down on an old armchair while
I stood uncertainly in the middle of the floor.

   "Strip," Jaynie ordered, reclining with her arms stretched out along the
arms of the chair.

   I stared at her stupidly.  "What!?"

   "It means take your clothes off."

   "I know what it means," I rallied.  "Why?"

   "Because I told you to!" Jaynie snapped.

   "Now look," I began, but was cut off.

   "What, don't you like the idea of someone watching you?"

   The penny dropped.  This was revenge.  I stood indecisively.  Okay, I
thought, how bad could it be, stripping in front of her?  I didn't have a
bad-looking body, though I wasn't as good-looking as some.  Would she
ridicule me?  I doubted it.  After all, I had seen her naked; this time I'd
give as good as I got.  Then I thought about the window.

   "Okay, but I'll do it in your room," I ventured.

   "You aren't going anywhere near my room," Jaynie countered, "perverts
aren't allowed in girls' bedrooms.  You do it here, right in front of this
window where anyone can see you, just like you saw me."

   "Yeah, but your curtains weren't wide open," I protested.

   "Tough.  Can't do the time, don't do the crime."

   Beaten, I started to undress.  Trainers, socks, and sweatshirt came off
first, trying to keep as much of me covered up for as long as possible. 
Then my tshirt, and I was naked to the waist.

   "So," Jaynie needled as I started on my belt, "it is boxers or briefs?
Or maybe it's Y-fronts!"

   It was briefs, plain solid black, which came into view as I dropped my
jeans and kicked them off my feet.  I paused, looking back at her as she
watched me.

   "And?" she prompted, and I pushed my thumbs into the waistband and
slowly eased them down, bending over to slip them over my ankles.  I closed
my eyes while I straigtened up, arms loose by my sides.  I refused to
attempt to cover myself like a coward, but I was trying very hard not to
shake.

   She looked me over for a bit then tilted her head and pursed her lips.
"Not very big, is it?"

   I had been tense while she examined me, but suddenly relaxed and rolled
my eyes.  It was true, my prick was soft and withdrawn because I was
nervous, but that was no reason to criticise!

   "Well, duh," I said, "it gets bigger.  They're all different sizes when
they're soft!"

   Jaynie grinned her wicked, menacing smile at me again, shaking her head
slightly.  "So...  make it hard..."

   Oh fuck!  I'd walked right into that.

   "Um, I don't know if I can," I mumbled, but she wasn't deterred, so I
reached down and began to massage the head, twisting my foreskin around it.

   It seemed like a long time, and it just wasn't happening.  My balls had
shrunken and pulled up tight and my prick had only the barest firmness to
it.  I kept glancing up at the window, and it was really putting me off,
far more than Jaynie sitting right in front of me.

   In desperation I decided to close my eyes, forcing myself to think about
Jaynie herself which was after all, I rationalised, only fair.  Much to my
relief, it worked.  I felt a stiffness in the base of my prick and then the
shaft began to swell.  I couldn't really picture her, but thinking about
her kneeling over me seemed to be enough.  Strange that, I thought later,
that actually being watched wasn't the turn off worrying about being
watched had been.

   I don't know how long it was, but at some point I was fully hard, still
with my eyes closed, my hand sliding my foreskin back and forth over the
ridge like I was masturbating slowly, when a hand closed over my wrist and
pulled it away.

   "Enough," Jaynie said, and led me, startled but unprotesting, out of
that room, through to the back of the house and into her bedroom, where I
was once more pushed down onto her bed on my back.

   I propped myself up on my elbows, looking at her.  It felt a little
weird, lying naked on a girl's bed with my prick erect between my legs,
while she stood in the middle of the floor looking at me.

   She did not give me much time to think, however.  She stepped forward
with her legs between mine, and I thought for a moment that she was going
to touch me, but her hands stayed at her sides.

   "Undo my jeans," Jaynie instructed.

   Okay, I thought, where's this leading?  I reached up and twisted it, but
the button seemed stiff and refused to yield.  After a few attempts I
managed it, then turned to the zip, which ran smoothly down.  Through the
narrow V of the opening I could see pale green underwear.

   I proved hopeless at tugging down her jeans until she made an
exasperated sigh and slipped her hands inside the waistband and pushed it
over her hips.  They fell to her knees and I pushed them all the way down
to her ankles, whereupon she stepped out of them and kicked them aside.

   I had no orders to go any further---although I was of course silently
hoping for more---so I stopped.  Whether she had intended that I don't
know, but she slid her right hand down the front of her knickers without
lowering them, all the while staring down at me with the by now familiar
menacing twist at the corner of her mouth.  For several minutes she teased
me, and I began to understand how it could be more erotic /not/ to be able
to see everything.  My prick had softened a bit as I undressed her, but as
I concentrated on imagining what her fingers were doing beneath the screen
of her underwear, it once again throbbed to full hardness.

   Suddenly Jaynie stopped and grinned at me.  "You're so fucking easy,"
she jeered.  "I bet you're dreaming I'm going to fuck you right here and
now, aren't you?"

   I wasn't, actually.  I'd been positively enthralled with watching her,
but I doubt she would have believed me.

   "No fucking chance," Jaynie said, and pulled her jeans back on.  "Get
your clothes, you can go."

   I was unceremoniously thrust out of her bedroom and the door closed
behind me.
   ----------------------------------------------------------------------