A familiar thrill surged through Jane's body as she lay on her back in the middle of the deserted schoolyard. It must be almost nine o'clock by now, and she luxuriated in the smell of freshly cut grass, and the cool night breeze ruffling her hair.

She was waiting for Rob Cartwright to go to bed; on a Wednesday night it was usually around ten. She'd thought about him all day. It wasn't the first time she'd lain there in the dark thinking about Rob.

The first time she'd peeked at him without him knowing, almost six months ago, had been by accident. She hugged herself, thinking about that time, and her excitement swelled.

She'd gone to the Cartwright home to visit her friend and classmate Brenda; they'd planned to study together for an upcoming test at school the next day. Jane lived on the next street, her backyard butting up against her friend's, and they'd gotten used to climbing the fence dividing their yards rather than walking all the way around the block. No one seemed to mind that they did this; the girls were almost as close as sisters.

That night, however, was different.

As Jane pulled herself up onto the backyard fence, balancing her history book on the top edge, she heard heavy metal music blaring from Brenda's house, and saw flashing lights, mixed with the black-blue fluorescence of a "black light", coming from Rob's room.

After a brief hesitation she shrugged and, grabbing her history book, jumped down into her friend's yard. Approaching the house, she thought she heard someone screaming to the beat of the song. It sounded like an animal, or like one of those performers who do those strange acts at punk raves.

It was none of her business, but Jane was curious to know what the noise was all about, so she sidled up to Rob's bedroom window and peeked inside.

Her eyes widened in shock and she fell to the grass with her back to the house wall. She sat for a full minute, eyes still wide and a hand over her mouth, shocked by what she'd seen.

The image of a naked boy dancing in time to the music in front of mirrored closet doors was burnt into her mind. Rob had been skipping to the music, holding his electric guitar and pretending to play it, and watching his naked body make rock performer moves in the mirror.

For a moment Jane wasn't sure she hadn't dreamt the whole thing; the flashing strobe light and the black light may have played tricks with her eyes.

Breathing rapidly with excitement, she slowly got to her feet and, crouched at Rob's window, peeked into his room again. She could see his full reflection in the mirror. He'd thrown his guitar onto his bed and was dancing with himself, watching his own naked reflection turning and twisting to the music's rhythm.

Jane swallowed, her eyes glued to Rob's nude body. She'd never seen a boy naked before. Rob was two years older than she was, and she'd always thought him good looking, but never imagined that a boy's body could look so nice when completely naked. She stood, admiring the ripple of his muscles as he danced. She knew it was wrong, but watching his penis sticking out so stiffly and his trim muscular body dancing in front of her was making her feel very strange. She just couldn't drag herself away.

While she watched he strode to his bed, flopped down on it and began to masturbate. Jane gasped as she watched his stiff penis pop up between his fingers and then disappear back into his hand on each up stroke.

It was so strange, she thought, to be standing there, invading such a private moment. She realized that if Rob caught her doing this he'd be mortified beyond words; and so would she, for that matter.

She was brought out of her thoughts by a noise that made her tremble. It was a primal sound, and it made her want to run home and masturbate herself.

Rob grunted several times; then a jet of what Jane knew was his sperm shot up at least 12 inches to land on his breastbone.

Another, slightly shorter, gush; then another... and another. It was weird to be watching him doing this! Jane wondered if Rob felt the same when he came as she did. He seemed to be enjoy- ing himself. His eyes were closed but his mouth was open, and his body arched away from the bed sheets as he came.

When Rob's naked body dropped back to the bed, Jane was struck by how horny watching him do himself had made her feel.

Instead of returning home to relieve herself, however, she hurried through the yard to the Cartwrights' front door. Excited as she felt, she couldn't bring herself to skip her homework.

When Brenda answered the door, Jane just knew her friend could tell what she'd been doing; that her depravity must be showing in her eyes. After a while, however, she relaxed, and the girls started their assignment.

When, later on, Rob strolled into the kitchen to get a snack, it was all Jane could do to control herself. She was, of course, embarrassed that she'd seen him doing something so personal, but how hot he had looked doing it!

Jane had a hard time concentrating on her homework, and that night she masturbated to a mental image of a teenage boy dancing naked.

When she came, it was better than normal, and she knew why. She knew then that she would peek at Rob again if she possibly could.

That had been six months ago... Jane rolled over in the grass and slipped her hand into her loose-fitting shorts. She began fingering herself ever so slowly... Thinking back to that first time was making her wet with need. She'd repeated her crime 20 times since then.

Many nights she'd sneaked over into the Cartwrights' backyard and found nothing to see. When, however, Rob was in his room he invariably put on some kind of lewd show. It seemed that all he did in his room was play with himself.

Jane wondered if all boys did that. The thought occurred to her that she ought to go over to Jason's house some evening to see what he got up to in the privacy of his bedroom.

She pushed herself up from the grass with a sigh and began walking towards the Cartwrights' house, her excitement rising with each step.

She was never going to tire of seeing Rob playing on his organ...

Acknowledgments: All my thanks... to Stephen for his encouragement and proofing and to Ian for editing my story.

© November 1999 Kristen Kathleen Becker Kristen078@Hotmail.com

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