Date: Fri, 21 Sep 2018 22:08:58 -0600
From: Rocky Hawkins <justwriting@soniq.org>
Subject: The Shower Peeper - Dades Version

Title: The Shower Peeper - Doug's Version


Author's Note:

This story is told as a fantasy, and I won't tell you that there is any
truth to it. But, as narrator and protagonist, I am not really that
creative. So, you can decide if I made it up or not...

I love email and feedback, so let me know if you like this one!

DISCLAIMER:

The following content may contain detailed descriptions of sexual
interactions between a minor and adult. If the laws in your place of
residence or your religious beliefs make it illegal or wrong to read such,
do not continue. If this type of content offends you, do not continue.

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Feedback and such to justwriting@soniq.org.

========================================================

"What's with the pip-squeak?" the tall, built guy asked. He's been here for
months, but this was the first time I'd seen him. Pops had told me he'd be
moving back, after his tour in the service. On the days I came over, he was
already at work, or asleep.

All I really knew was that his name was Doug. He worked over at the Oil
change place where my Mom bought her cigarettes. I'd been there a few
times, but he never noticed me. Besides, I rarely had any money for
anything anyway. I was just thankful that Pops gave me some odd jobs here
and there.

"Oh, yeah," he said, with a sigh. "That's Dade."

I listened to Pops tell Doub about my situation. I hated when he did
that. It was embarassing enough to have a mother who is drunk all the time,
and a Dad who.. well, let's just say he isn't very nice when he drinks
either. But, Pops gave me work when I couldn't find anything, and the few
bucks I get sure do help. I leave the money here at his place... it's safer
here. And, he lets me stay after school sometimes. When I turned 14, he
gave me a Nintendo, and told me I could come over anytime I wanted to play
it. I think he knows that my house is kinda crap. We don't discuss it, but
he knows.

I was finishing a level on Zelda when I got a whiff of something. Sure,
there was the smell of burgers in the air - I had made one myself just
before Doug got home - but this was new. I never bothered Pops when he was
home; I was grateful that he let me stay until Dad was out or passed
out. So I didn't dare look when I heard the door creak open. I turned my
head just in the slightest, my back only partially facing the door. There,
in the mirror of the bathroom, was Doug. The water began to dribble from
the shower; the exhaust fan whirred heavily, and the cross draft sent
shivers down my spine.

Doug had taken his shirt off, and was standing in front of the mirror. I
admit, I began to ignore my game to look at him more. I didn't dare turn,
but in the corner of my eye I could see him. He was not super tall, but his
arms were built. I could see the muscles from his shoulders and back each
time he reached for something. Then it hit me again. Musk. That was it. It
was another random day in Wisconsin, and Doug's scent had mixed with the
steam forming in the bathroom. He began to pull at his waist, his hips only
barely holding up the loose joggin pants he was wearing. Just as he was
about to slide them down, his eyes looked up. Quickly, I resumed my gaming,
my own body filling with heat. I was blushing all over. I didn't look back,
and I lost a life on my game.

When the sound of the curtain rings scrapped against the rod, I knew that
he had entered the shower. I dared a quick glance, and saw his shadow,
twisting around in the shower. He had closed the door slightly, but this
old house wouldn't have it. It had creaked back open, and the shower
curtain game me one-way access to a show. He was built all over. He was
hot.

I started looking for a job last year. About that time, my Dad had caught
me jerking off to a JCPenny catalog, and ever since then, he's gotten
pretty mean. He started calling me faggot last year, and though Mom tries,
she really can't fix the problem. It's usually ok when he's got steady
work, but now that the contract for the state building is done, he's been
home a lot more. And he's mad about everything. Taxes. Car payments. My
school fees. To help out, I offerred to get a job. He didn't care. I am
just a burden to him right now.

So I stay at Pop's house a lot. Never overnight, Mom doesn't allow that -
but on the days that dad has interviews, or when he had poker night, it's
just best that I not.. be home. Mom even called Pops once - just to see
that I wasn't annoying him. Thankfully, he told him that I was better than
some stranger in his home, and that he was happy I could help an 'old man'
out. Sometimes I think he doesn't need me around anymore, especially now
that Doug cooks and cleans for him - but until he tells me to go, I am
going to try to stay.

That's why I stay so quiet. If you aren't noticed, then people don't make a
fuss.

Doug finished the shower, and left for work. After a couple of weeks, I
began to learn his schedule. He worked all the time, or was out most of the
time, and just like Pops, he wasn't shy about walking around shirtless, or
in his underwear, but I didn't often see that. Mostly, I would come over
after school, and he was either already dressed in his blue Mobil shirt and
khakis for work, or still sleeping from his shift the night before.  It
wasn't until about 2 months ago that things started to change.

About 3:30, I unlocked the door to Pop's place. I had to push hard, and it
creaked loudly. He had given me a key for deliveries at first, but then
when I started coming around more, he just let me keep it. It was so hot, I
didn't bother to pay attention to anything as I sprawled through the door
to the kitchen. I had made 2 pitchers of iced tea, something I did every
Monday for Pops, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind me having a glass. It was
hot!

When I went to open the fridge, my instincts kicked in and I
froze. Immediately, I heard shuffling, and realized I wasn't alone. Only
then did I realize the AC was on, and the fans were setup along the
hall. Doug must be home!

Quietly, I dropped my backpack, and picked up an apple. Pops insisted that
I eat one every day, so as usual, it was left out for me. As for Doug, I
was nervous. It was so rare that I was in the house alone with him. What do
I say? Did he see me peeping on him in the shower? Does he know what I
think about when I am alone? I walked down the hall with the apple in
hand. I couldn't look over, but I had to pass the wide open door to Doug's
room, to get past the bathroom into Pop's bedroom. Just walk casual, don't
look over, get to your game. Everything's cool.

But I couldn't help it. I held my breath, walking slowly past the door
frame. I could see him. I could smell him. Laying there, over 6 foot tall,
with those broad shoulders and tight abs. He was shiny - must have been
sweating from this heat. Why is he all covered up?

I heard the TV in his room as I flicked on my game, this time choosing
Mario as the selection. It was a fun, thoughtless game. I liked those. Gave
me time to think about other things.

To be honest, ever since he left the door open that day in the shower,
there's really only been one thing on my mind. Doug.

I mean, I know what I am. I know what people say about me. It might as well
be true, right?

I started the game, whirling through the first few levels. Really, just to
get passed them. My mind wasn't even paying attention, really. I kept going
back to that day. Seeing him, tall and slick, flexing in the mirror. I
heard him tell Pops that he still works out every chance he gets. And it
shows. Of the times I've been able to see him, walking from dinner in his
boxers or just in a towel from the bathroom, I've become more and more
obsessed. He was perfect. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to.. kiss him. I
wanted him to... touch me.

I know, it's wrong. My father warned me that these thoughts would land me
in with the devil. I don't really believe that, but people sure don't like
it when they see a fag on the street. One time, in the town over, I heard
of this kid who got tied to a barbed fence, all because he offered to buy
another guy a drink. No, I can't like Doug. Better just to be quiet.

At a break in the game, I hopped up to use the bathroom. Without thinking,
I glanced over at Doug's room. When I had walked by, he was all covered
with sheets and a comforter, from the waist down, but now, just the
sheet. His long legs were arched out, and the sheets laid rest on his
frame. I could clearly see more than I should have, and I had to look
away. I closed the door to the bathroom.

My body was not cooperating as I stood there to pee. Visions of Doug
lingered in my head, just as they did night after night. I moved my hand
along my chest, pretending his strong arms were touching me. My junk, now
exposed to the bathroom, rose to it's full length. I had peeked in the
locker rooms at school; I was just about the same as everyone else. With a
ruler, and a night alone, I measured it out. 5 1/2 inches, if I was laying
down, and 5 inches when I was standing up. I didn't know if that was
normal, but none of the other boys who got random hard ons in the shower
seemed any bigger.

I pulled back from the toilet and turned to the sink. I looked at myself,
and cursed silently. Dade, you have to stop thinking about him. You really
have to pee!

I laughed at my own conversation in silence. I turned the cold water to
it's fullest, a dribble in this old house, and splashed a bit of water on
my face. The mirror was a "huge victorian" that Pop's daughter-in-law
'insisted' on. I guess Doug's Mom and Dad lived here once. There were a lot
of girl things left, in fact.

I looked at myself in the mirror again. I was 14 now. For fun, I made a
muscle. Not quite the ones that Doug has, but I think I was doing ok. For
as quiet as I was in life, I did enjoy things like soccer and baseball. We
haven't had people for a team for the past couple years, but the guys still
have a weekend thing. I still go play with them some times.

I pulled back my blonde mop-head of hair, and look close. Only a couple
pimples on the forehead, don't touch them, Dade. I think they happen
because of my hair - it's always in my face. Sarah Marcus keeps telling me
that I have 'classic' looks. I think she's funny, but as you know, not my
type.

The distraction from my thoughts finally made me go soft, and I twisted
back to the toilet. With a sigh, a long stream released. I washed my hands
and returned to my game.

At the water level, I smiled as I heard the shower turn on. in this house,
the shower was more like a bird bath. It tooko hours to get hot, and even
when it was, the pressure was terrible. Most of the time, I showered at
school, just to save time.

After the third time dying, I realized that the water was much too
loud. Again, I turned to the door. Sure enough, there was a towel on the
hanger, door wide open, and a shadow of Doug, moving about. Immediately, my
cock started to thicken. I began to imagine him, his muscles tight,
stretching to wash his legs, his feet. Then, he'd move up to his own cock,
it hard and thick. Was he cut, like me? Was he big? Too big? I had to know.

Then, I died. Well, Mario did. I hadn't been paying attention, and for the
third time, I had let Mario fall into a pit. My extra lives were gone, and
the system reset to the into screen. But I didn't care. I was curious. I
wanted to see him. I wanted to see IT.

Slowly, I snuck to the gap between the door to Pop's room, and the door to
the bathroom. It was a huge room, the bathroom. Almost as big as my bedroom
at home. I twisted sideways, trying to peek through the hinges of the door,
but it was at the wrong angle. Doug was soaping up, and I could hear the
splashing of the water against the curtain. It was thick, like lather. I
knew this was my chance.  I crept to the other side of the door frame, my
body fitting nicely between the door frame and the hall. I was in line with
the wall now, and if needed, I could retreat back to Pop's room.

And... Jackpot. From this angle, I could see much better. The light from
the bathroom created a shadow across the frame, and I retreated further
into it. He couldn't see me.  But, just as he was about to sway in front of
the gap, my game reset. A loud beep of the intro screen startled me, and
Doug stopped lathering. He backed from the opening in the curtain, and I
was left with just his shadow.

"You need something, buddy?" he called out. I was standing just outside the
doorway, and realized my body blocked the frame of the door. I pulled back,
and hit start quickly on the game controller, making the game start
again. He turned the water off shortly after, and from the reflection of
the TV, I saw him stand in the hall, towel tightly wrapped to his thin
waist. He was looking at me, and I could see it in the TV, but I pretended
I didn't notice. Jump and a run and yes! I captured the flag. Next level.

He closed his door to change, and I could feel the air flow shift as the
fan now reflected the cool AC from the living room my way. I was sweating,
but not from the heat.

When Pops got home that night, I made him some dinner, we ate quietly, and
I went home. The house was dark, as Dad was working again, and Mom likely
had gone to bed. I crept up the stairs, closing my door tightly.

My room was great, actually. We were kinda poor, but Mom, and even Dad
before he got angry all the time, used to get me fun stuff for it. I had
posters and little gadgets. I had given up toys a long time ago, and some
were replaced with trophies of myt soccer games from elementary school, and
even some projects I did well on. I never really paid much attention to
them anymore, but now that I'm not here, they make me smile when I see
them.

I plopped in bed, pulling out the apple I had taken earlier that day. I
looked up at my ceiling, and my thoughts went back to Doug. He had to have
seen me, but I didn't care. I just kept picturing him behind that thin
layer of plastic. And when he was in bed today. I know he was watching TV,
but... he looked so funny all covered up like that. I began to imagine him
pulling the layers off, the sheets back. Imagining more and more of him
naked, my body started to react. I pulled off my shirt, and pulled down my
shorts, exposing my body to the cool night air. I was naked now, just like
him. I pictured his hands sliding down his chest. His abs were tight, and
sweaty, and as he slid down, I could see the streaks. When he reached the
blanket, I realized that I too was running my hands down my body. I could
feel my own hardness now, pointing up at me. I began to slide up and down
on it, my left hand grabbing lightly, not pulling the skin, but feeling the
rub. I had stolen some lotion from the locker room at school, and twisted
behind my pillow and mattress to grab it.

With a white coated slippery hand, I reached back down to it, my teeth
already biting my lower lip. My mind fkipped over to Doug again, but he was
now back in the shower. I could see his thick arms grasping through the
opaque curtain, pulling at his hardness. I imagined it was bigger than his
fist, and I could see in my mind how with each pull of his hand, his hips
shoved forward to follow. Just like in the dirty magazine my Dad had in the
gun closet, I pictured Doug, greasy and shiney, tan and buff, water
spraying off him and his hand began to pump along with mine. I saw him pump
his junk, still fuzzy in my mind, as my own body began to flex and jerk. I
was getting closer, and my hand began to pump faster. I ignored the
squishing sound of the lotion as my feet began to stretch. I could feel my
toes curl, and my hips twist. I was pumping faster and faster, and Doug was
groaning in the shower, until, from no where, I imagined him say, 'show me,
Dade! Show me that cum!'

My eyes were bolted shut and my breathing stopped as my whole body began to
shiver. I felt my cock explode outward, my cum shooting out. The first two
pumps shot upward, and my eyes flashed open to watch. My body jerked
forward with each pulse of the cum, and my hand, now covered in cum and
lotion, came to rest at the base of my hard-on. I sighed heavily, and my
body began to relax. I pulled my hand away from my cock, and with a tight
grip, scraped most of the cum and lotion with it. I rolled over to the
floor and grabbed my shirt, wiping up the gooey mess.

I rolled over on my back, exhaling. Without even knowing what it looked
like, I just came from the thought of Doug's dick. What am I going to do?

I didn't go back to Pop's house for the next few days. Dad's new job was
treating him well, and so things were pretty good at our house again. Mom
didn't even drink the whole time, or at least that's what she said. I
didn't care. For the most part things were good here, and well, to be
honest, I was afraid of going to Pop's house again, and seeing Doug. What
if he saw me spying on him?

I decided that Wednesday to go back to Pop's house. I had a job to do, the
laundry and such, so I couldn't just abandon him. Even if Doug was there, I
had to go.

After school, I came to the house, my shoulder slamming to the door to get
it open. I set my bad down and looked to the kitchen, ready to grab my
apple. And there he was. Doug. Naked. leaning against the counter, ass to
the drawers, slurping up a bowl of cereal. I didn't know what to do. I
froze.

Doug, seeing me walk in, choked a bit on his milk. "Oh gosh, sorry dude!
Didn't know you were gonna be here!"

He twisted away, and it broke my stare. I felt myself get hot, looking own
at the floor. I didn't know what to say, so I just mumbled, "my fault,
gonna play the game."

My eyes, with a mind of their own, looked up at him, his face distorted
into something similar to a laugh, then into his eyes. He locked with me
for a second, and I couldn't handle it. I swiped down his body, seeing his
cock for the first time, and rushed toward the bedroom. "Sorry," I
whispered.

I turned on the TV to resume my place in the game. It was still on from so
many days before, and right where I left off. I glued my eyes to it, my
shame and embarrassment for looking at him enough to make me beet red. It
was the first time I had seen him like that, for real. the rest of his body
matched everything else. He was tone, yet his legs had muscle all over. He
wasn't a body builder, but you could tell he didn't sit around. I closed my
eyes, and I could see the rest of him complete a picture. His junk was
soft, but there was a lot of skin. He was uncut, I think. It hung there,
like it was proud to be attached to such a man. I smiled at the thought. In
my mind, I pictured 'Mr. Penis' thanking Doug. "Thanks for letting me be on
your body, dude!" I laughed a little. It didn't stop my hard on from raging
even harder than before, but at least I was not so nervous.

The door closed and then opened quickly from Doug's room. I could hear him
moving from the room to the bathroom, and the familiar squeak from the
turning of the faucet. the water began to spray down, and I heard the
curtain pull back. From the room, I couldn't see him or the bathroom
completely, but I knew what was happening. Right about now he would have
pulled off the towel and hung it on the radiator. He would climb in, close
the curtain... close.. the curtain. Wait. The scraping sound wasn't
there. Did he not close the curtain?

I ventured a chance, and stood up. I could hear him lathering, the squish
in his hands from the soap against his skin sloshing. Then, I heard him
under the shower head. With so little pressure, it is very easy to tell the
water had been diverted. I took a step closer, leaning into the door
frame. I could see the shadow from him against the back of the curtain, but
he was still under the water.

I took a step closer, and watched his figure. A hand quietly emerged from
the curtain, taking hold of it, and pulled back a bit. I backed up,
thinking he was somehow getting out, but then, nothing. The water began to
make noise again, and I could hear it down the drain. I could hear the
familiar squishing sound again, so I peeked forward.

My mouth went dry. My knees, began to shake. There, in plane view of God
and everyone, was Doug's naked body, soapy and wet, standing in the
shower. The curtain wasn't fully around the tub, and from my angle, I could
see him standing there. His head was arched back, and his hair was still
soapy. I followed the line of suds down, and realized that his hands... his
hands were grasping his cock. He was slowly pumping his hips, each thrust
pushing into his fist.

His hand kept stroking, and my own hands began to slowly rub against
myself. I watched him, his eyes still closed, grab a little more soap,
adding to the slickness of his hard-on sliding between his fingers. His
other hand pulled at his hair, and his head turned slightly to his
biceps. After a short time, he paused, and I realized the game was still
going, in loop at the screen. It was waiting for me to play the next level,
but I didn't care. My own cock pushed against my shorts, and my hand
squeezed at it from outside the fabric. I couldn't believe it, Doug was
there, all of that big cock, and je was jerking it. In front of my eyes! I
knew I was risking everything, but I had to see it. I had to see him cum.

He twisted a bit, and the curtain slid forward. No longer able to see him,
I had to move. As quietly as the house would allow, I moved closer to the
inside edge of the door. His hands moved faster now, and his jaw got
tight. His body began to raise up, and his legs got tight. His fist started
to pump tighter and harder, and I couldn't stop staring at the skin moving
back and forth. He was pumping hard and fast, and I could see he was
close. He leaned forward to the water, and I watched the suds slip from
him, exposing his full member to me, his hand only shoving harder and
faster.

I bit my own lip, my hand now sliding against my own cock. He was close to
finishing, and I was too far in the room to pull back. Without warning, his
eyes shot open, his mouth letting out a groan as whole body went ridged. I
gasped as he locked his eyes to me, catching me. My hands were still
touching myself through my Mosimo shorts, my t-shirt hiding some of my
hardness, but it was too late. He had caught me.

He stared at my face, watching me watch him as his whole body shivered and
a heavy, thick glob of cum shot out of that hard, uncut dick. It splashed
on the wall, and then volley 2 and 3 hit up right next to it. He smirked a
bit, letting his eyes leave my body, then at his own, until finally closing
them. He reached for the faucet and turned the water off, bending down to
let the drain spigot pull up.

I retreated quickly to the bedroom. I slammed off the TV, yanked my bag and
slammed the door behind me. I had been caught. He knew my secret. I had
just watched him cum, and He knew I liked it. I think he even saw my
hard-on through my shorts.

I walked home fast, skipping the usual streets, opting for some back yards
and a small park. I relived the last 10 minutes in my mind over, and
over. What was I gonna do?

I went straight to my room when I got home. Mom was there, watching TV, and
smiled at me as I shot up the stairs. I laid in bed, face down. I could
feel my mind racing, and my cock began to harden. I'm not sure why, but an
urge to begin humping rose up from my bones. My hands shot to my waistband,
and my body yanked forward. I felt myself begin to thrust into the bed, my
cock now harder than ever. I could feel the rough scrape of the comforter,
but I didn't care. I began to hump the bed hard, pulling the pillow to my
chest. My eyes clamped shut, and I began to imagine Doug. First, he was
standing there in the shower. My hips thrusted. Then, his strong biceps
pulled at me, bringing me into the shower. Thrust. Fully clothed, he
reached into my shorts, his fist big around my small cock. Thrust! I could
feel him wrapping around me. I could feel him pumping my dick. "Make it
shoot, Dade, just like I did..." he whispered.

My body pushed against the pillow hard, and I could feel the pressure build
up in my groin. My cock head felt raw but I couldn't stop. I pumped againt
te pillow harder, and faster. My breathing stopped, and my legs got tight.
I was close. I twisted around, quickly, and my cock began to shoot. I
gripped the shaft hard, and with the first shot of cum I moaned out loud.
Immediately, I threw the pillow in my face, the mixe of moaning and orgasm
deep. My hand was sticky. I was out of breath. I could feel the tip of my
cock burning from the friction.

I was in heaven. I was screwed.


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Like it? Email me.  justwriting@soniq.org