Paula's Panties

Paula and Tom lived next door. They were a good looking couple in their late twenties. Paula was blond and blue-eyed with a perky figure on her five foot frame, and Tom was a dark haired, dark eyed, muscular six feet.

They lived in the cottage on our west side, which had only about ten feet of space between our houses.

I was doing some laundry one morning when I happened to look out the window of the pantry, which faced toward Paula and Tom's house, and got quite a shock.

The bedroom of our neighbor's cottage faced toward the east, and as it was after ten in the morning. The sun was shining over our roof and right into the big picture window of their bedroom, lighting it up completely, leaving my side in complete shade.

I glanced into their bedroom, noting that the drapes were pulled wide open, and just started to look away when movement caught my attention. I really don't mean to be a peeping Thumbelina, but sometimes you do things without conscious thought.

I turned back to look again, as Tom walked across the room. Naked. Oops.

It was a brief glimpse for only a second, but the image was clear as he passed by in the sunshine, lit up like a candle for me to ogle in that brief moment. He was nicely muscled, chest and legs. He had no noticeable hair on his body other than his head, which was unexpected to say the least.

And he had a nice set of genitals, dangling beautifully in front of his thighs as he stepped past the window, wiggling delightfully from side to side. I don't really estimate men's penis length - it's not the first thing I think about - but I did register his package as "pleasing" in size, shape, and color. And I really thought it was pretty that he was completely shaved bare, with no unnecessary hair to obscure my view of his endowment.

As a forty-something woman, I'm not regularly treated to full frontal nudity by the males in the neighborhood, so Tom's appearance before me in the bright morning light was a delightful revelation and gave me many grins as I replayed the memory throughout my day.

I hoped I could keep a smirk off of my face the next time I bumped into Tom. It wouldn't be appropriate to leer and wink or anything, besides, he didn't know I was peeping, and it wasn't on purpose I can assure you. I was innocently doing laundry.

Not my fault.

Over the course of the next week, I waved to Tom in the driveway, chatted with Paula across the backyard fence, and basically behaved in a completely ladylike and normal fashion.

Nothing new here, carry on.

I will admit, though, that I changed my habit of piling laundry up until the last minute and doing three or four loads at a time, to doing a small load almost every day. Usually in the hours between nine-thirty and eleven. I just wanted to be more efficient, that's all.

So I'd check on my laundry regularly each day, as I checked on the picture window of my neighbor's bedroom. Does that make me a horrible person? I think not. But I will admit that I am naturally inquisitive toward naked men and have been so for some time now.

Let me mention that Tom works from home a few days a week to avoid the commute to his office in the City. It's the latest thing with the ease of internet communications now, and he's able to analyze his data and make his reports via the internet and only go to the office for meetings.

So, on many occasions I did see Tom, sometimes in gym shorts, and sometimes without a tee-shirt. I was kind of getting bored until Thursday. I now call it 'blessed Thursday' in my memories, for reasons that will become obvious to any red-blooded girl like myself.

I came into the laundry room and gave my practiced casual glance out the window, and there he was. Naked.

He stood with his back to me, facing his dresser. He had a very nicely shaped bottom, very tight and cute. He had a drawer open that he was digging through. He found what he was looking for - a lacey white pair of panties - which I assumed were Paula's.

The next thing he did was just darling! He put them on.

It's one of my favorite views of a naked man, seen from behind and bending over, with his boy-parts dangling between his thighs as he stepped into the panties. Picture perfect, I wished I had a camera, and not for the last time.

The lace panties were tight and his cute buns were only about half covered. He looked just adorable.

And after adjusting the front a bit, for reasons I could figure out on my own, he turned around and faced the window. I almost ducked in fear until I realized he was looking at himself in the full-length mirror on the back of his bedroom door. Dodged that bullet.

I didn't think he could see me, since he was in full sunlight and I was deep in shadow, but it was still scary to imagine being caught.

After he looked at himself a moment, giving me ample opportunity to observe the deliciously plump bulges fighting to escape the lacy front of the little panties, he walked into the bathroom. I waited a few minutes, feeling like a secret agent, and then he came back across the room and I could see him from the side.

Well, that was the adventure for that day.

I carried on as usual, and started to coordinate my laundry days with the days Tom's car was still in the carport in the morning.

And I waited.

A few days later, Tom was back in the bedroom naked. I liked the idea of a man working from home with no need to dress at all. It just seemed 'right' somehow - the idea of having a naked man about the house. It's one of my favorite notions.

I thought perhaps Tom had been awake early that morning, since he came into the room in the nude, and laid down on the bed. I thought perhaps he would take a nap.

Then his hand slid down his body and he began to fondle his genitals. Oh, my, I thought, this could get interesting in a hurry.

Sure enough, his fondling led to rubbing, and his penis responded to whatever erotic thoughts were going through his naughty mind. It was priceless to stand there breathlessly and watch my cute hunky neighbor lying on the bed and playing with his penis like such a naughty boy.

He was in a semi-erect state, giving me opportunity to begin to appreciate his attributes more by the moment, when he disappointed me by getting up from the bed and walking out of the room.

It was nice to see his penis sort of bigger and standing out a bit from his groin, but I was hoping for the full show, if you know what I mean. I haven't talked to my friends much on this subject, other than the occasional exchange of a knowing glance and a giggle at the subject of male masturbation, but I daresay there isn't a grown woman who would not like to watch an attractive man masturbate and ejaculate.

I certainly was warm to the idea...

But before I gave up and pouted the rest of the day, Tom was back and lying down again with something in his hand.

He laid down and placed some small bit of cloth over his face and began to rub his penis again. I was happy. And then it dawned on me that the red lacy cloth was a pair of Paula's panties - presumably worn by her - and he was sniffing them as he masturbated.

Oh, goodness, Tom was such a naughty boy. I thought perhaps he should have a spanking for masturbating all by himself, but only after he'd finished his business, of course.

I feel that big muscular attractive men, and husbands especially, should not masturbate. At least not alone. I know all men masturbate, but I have always encouraged my husband to do so, if he must, only in my presence so that he can share his climax with me and not hide it away. I prefer that my husband hear my voice and see my face, and presumably think about me, as he rubs his penis.

I thought that Tom, while certainly being a naughty husband by masturbating alone, was at least involving his wife vicariously by enjoying her scent as he played with his penis. It was kind of cute and romantic in a way, to see him lost in Paula's panties as he masturbated.

I watched his hand stroking up and down on his beautiful shaft, and was happy for Paula - that she had a handsome man with a nice penis, and also that he chose to smell her scent and think of her as he masturbated.

After a few minutes, he sped up his stroking, and sure enough, he treated me to a very nice ejaculation. His spurts shot up a good eight inches into the air before falling back on his taught hairless belly.

I just love the helpless and desperate look a man gets when he begins to spurt. I wished I could have seen his face more clearly, but I was happy to at least see his semen spurt up high. Just for me. Really? Certainly not.

But I couldn't help but feel as though I was being treated to a beautiful show, an exhibition of male neediness and virility. Even though Tom didn't know it, I still felt like he had performed for my pleasure. I liked that thought.

After he'd spurted his last, he lay back exhausted and let go of his softening shaft, allowing me an unencumbered view of his bare genitals. I liked how he looked, all spent and completed. As he relaxed in the sunlight, his penis continued to soften and laid flat against his belly at an angle, still plump but no longer stiff.

I could see little puddles of his semen on his belly, glistening in the reflected sunlight. Again, I wished I had a camera with a zoom lens, but that would, I suppose, be an unladylike gesture on my part. But it was certainly a temptation.

I just stood patiently and looked at his naked body, laid out before me. His gorgeous pink genitals all plump and juicy and full of future promise, even though sated for the moment. It's always a wonderful thought that erections and ejaculations are a renewable resource. Just wait a while, and you can enjoy it all over again.

After a good long rest, he got up and walked into the bathroom, presumably to clean up.

I stayed long enough to have viewed his naked walk back across the room, across the bright morning light, and out of the bedroom.

The weekend passed. So did Monday and Tuesday, when he went to the office.

Wednesday morning his car was in the carport after Paula had gone to work.

Laundry day.

At ten o'clock sharp, I was folding laundry and keeping an eye on the window. The drapes were shut, which was quite a disappointment.

I put some folded laundry away in my dresser, and returned to run another load. When I looked out my window again, the drapes were pulled wide open. Uh oh.

I had a sinking feeling that maybe my pretty young neighbor knew I was watching, and had opened the drapes like drawing the curtain on a stage. It was a two-edged sword, that thought.

On one hand, I might be caught out as a peeper - my neighbor knowing that I kept an eye out for his naked shenanigans.

But if that were true, it meant that he didn't mind being watched. In fact, by pulling the drapes open, he would have been announcing his intention to appear naked for me.

Hmmm... what to do.

The other possibility was that it was not about me, and he merely enjoyed the morning sun.

So, either way, I was not going to have to explain to Paula how I came to be peeping on her naked husband.

I felt better.

As though on cue, Tom entered his bedroom wearing little white cotton gym shorts and a cropped tee shirt. He seemed a little sweaty, and I deduced that he had just worked out on weights in his garage.

He stood facing the full-length mirror on his door, which made him three-quarters faced toward me, and he pulled off the tee shirt.

He slowly slipped the shorts down, always a nice look on a man, and stepped out of them. He was wearing one of Paula's tiny thongs, a pretty lacy pink one! The front panel was very narrow and served mostly to capture his penis, allowing his big testes to bulge out on either side. A very nice look for him, if I do say so.

He turned side to side, looking at himself in the mirror, and thereby allowing me a fleeting view of his cute bottom cheeks with the thong disappearing between them. I couldn't wait to see what he would do next.

Ever so slowly, he slid the thong down his muscular thighs, freeing his bare genitals for me to ogle happily. He seemed semi-erect and I took that as a good sign that perhaps he'd treat me to another session of masturbation.

Once fully naked, he laid down on the bed again, but at a different angle. He laid down across the bed, with his feet facing toward me! Once in position, he spread his thighs wide apart, keeping his hands at his sides. From this angle I could look right into his crotch and I watched his plump penis throb and stiffen.

Only when he was fully erect did his hand move to touch his shaft.

As he began to rub slowly up and down, I enjoyed how his testicles slid up and down with each stroke. He was rubbing himself slowly, as though to make our time together last and to give me a very satisfying show.

As the tempo of his strokes increased, he raised his knees and drew his feet up closer to his bottom, before letting his thighs just fall open.

Oh, my, I thought, what a naughty boy to open up so wide so I could see...everything... so clearly.

With his head laid back, I couldn't see his face. All I could see was spread thighs, and a hand rubbing a beautiful penis above delightfully bouncing testes.

My heart was going pitter-pat in my chest and my breathing was shallow and excited as I watched him play with himself.

He rubbed his penis more quickly, and his hips began to gyrate sensually as his climax approached. I was dying to watch him spurt again, but I also wished he could last a little longer. But, boys will be boys and when they are ready to spill their seed, it's hard to stop them.

I was ok with that.

I watched him rub and wiggle and imagined he might be gasping and groaning, as I anticipated the arrival of his imminent ejaculation. I had a wide smile and wide eyes and a tingling in my low places as I enjoyed the view.

His hand became a blur and his hips bucked twice. He spurted. It was a nice big juicy spurt, and was followed quickly by a second and a third spurt of pearlescent fluid, lit by the sun as it rose and fell upon his laboring body.

One spurt went straight up and then down to land on his jiggling scrotum and glisten at me lewdly. Then there were a few smaller surges of semen that flowed out of his penis and ran down his fingers to further anoint his pink testes.

Milking his last drops, his hand fell away exhausted and he laid there breathing deeply before me, his thighs spread wide to accentuate my focus upon his genitals. His penis throbbed with the beat of his heart as it slowly softened, and his testicles relaxed again to hang comfortably in his hairless pink sack.

Oh, he looked so precious and sweet, all naked and vulnerable to my eyes as I took in the view.

He laid there a long time, allowing me to chart his progress of recovery and observe the physiological processes of post-ejaculation male genitalia.

When he finally stirred, he slowly got up, walked to the window; his relaxed genitals shining with the wetness of his semen as they wiggled with his steps.

Standing completely naked, he raised his arms and slowly closed the drapes, never looking across toward my house.

The show was over.

As I pondered this the rest of the day, I determined that he did indeed know, or at least hope, that I was watching him.

He'd opened the window coverings purposefully, he'd masturbated in such a way as to maximize the view for a voyeur, and had closed the drapes purposefully when he'd finished.

No other conclusion to be reasonably drawn.

He was masturbating for his forty-something female neighbor.

Oh, dear me, whatever shall I do?

After much consideration, I realized that there was only one course of action I could take.

I needed to do laundry tomorrow morning.

Thursday, his car was gone. Damn it.

Friday at nine thirty in the morning, I checked for his car - it was in the car port. I immediately went to the panty to check the drapes. Closed.

I gathered laundry and headed for the pantry. I brought a magazine to bide my time because I probably wouldn't have left that room all day. The magazine proved unnecessary.

At precisely ten-oh-five, according to my watch, the drapes next door opened to reveal my neighbor Tom, naked as the day he was born. The sun shined brightly into his bedroom and his pale skin was bright white, marred only by the warmer pinkness of his bare genitals that hung relaxed between his thighs.

With no further ado, he backed up against the side of his bed, sat on the edge, and laid back. He scooted just a tad further away from the edge and then drew his feet onto the bed and spread his thighs wide for me.

He was as close as he could be, perhaps only fifteen feet away, separated from me by two panes of clean clear glass.

Since he was so blatantly preparing to perform for me, all pretense of 'accident' removed, I stood as close to my window as possible, preparing to enjoy the view as close up as possible.

Tom, handsome muscular delicious Tom, slipped his hand between his spread thighs and began to fondle his genitals. It was so bawdy how he exposed himself so fully and showed no inhibition. Rather, he showed me just exactly how he liked to feel and roll his testicles, wiggling his penis as it became erect, and then began to stroke himself.

He seemed to take longer this time. I never looked at my watch, but I suspect he may have played with his penis for upwards of fifteen minutes before he ejaculated all over himself.

It was beautiful as always, sort of tender and intimate while at the same time to very naughty. I felt privileged to share such a special time with Tom, and to be allowed such visual intimacy with his body and his sensuality.

When he finished, he let me watch him become fully relaxed and recovered before he stood and softly closed the drapes.

This time, just as the drapes were almost shut, his eyes flicked up to mine in acknowledgement of my presence before his face disappeared behind the final curtain.

All doubts were removed now. He was masturbating with the purpose that I watch, and I was in my pantry for the purpose of watching him masturbate.

My mind spun as I wondered what I should do now...

I suppose this could go on and on until one of us became bored with it. Somehow I thought that would be him, not me, but still...

The weekend passed without incident.

On Monday of the following week, precisely at ten o'clock in the morning, my doorbell rang.

I was in the pantry doing laundry at the time just like any intelligent woman would have been, since Tom's car was in his carport.

My heart caught in my throat. Uh oh, who could that be?

I looked down at myself finding that I was wearing a pair of very tight-fitting black spandex leggings and a pink sports bra. This was my normal morning wear prior to doing my Pilates. I wondered if I looked alright.

I opened the door, and sure enough, there was Tom. He was barefoot, in those same tight little cotton shorts, and a cut-off tee shirt. He was holding a laptop computer under his muscular arm.

"Hi, Kate," he said, "The internet is gone out in our house, damn cable company. I was wondering if I could set up over here for a little while, since I can't get a strong enough signal to pirate your wi-fi effectively. You must not be on cable, are you?"

"DSL," I said.

I was surprised to have this young husband, my next door neighbor, whom I had been watching prance around naked for some time now, and then had recently watched masturbate several times, standing at my door. I'm sure I couldn't keep the smirk off of my face.

I couldn't help but wonder if he had panties on under his cute little shorts.

"Come on in," I heard my voice say as my body took a step back from the door to let him pass. What was I doing now?