Date: Fri, 14 Sep 2018 19:26:06 -0600 From: Rocky Hawkins Subject: The Shower Peeper - Dougs 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. Donate: Nifty operates free because there's people who donate to keep it running. Donate. It's worth the spunk. Contact me: Feedback and such to justwriting@soniq.org. ======================================================== I began to notice it about 2 months ago. I had changed jobs, and I started to work the overnights at the Mobil Gas and Oil. It wasn't a fancy job, just watching people fill up on slurpies and gas up their junkers, but it paid enough to go out with my buddies on the weekend. Plus, Pops (my grandfather) let me come back home 6 months ago, and keep my room after my tour in the Gulf with no rent, it was basically free money. He even kept my car. Can't get laid without taking a girl to a movie or dinner first, these days. So the car was a bonus. Hasn't helped yet, but you get the point. Oh yeah, anyway. I suppose because I was around in the afternoons now, I began to notice this little twerp hanging around the house. Between work and sleep and trying to get laid, I wasn't home much - and Pops didn't allow girls back at the house. But since I was now home after the normal school day, at least until 8pm, I started to see this kid hangin' around. Sometimes he was just sitting in the living room, watching tv. Other times, he was in Pop's room, playing the Nintendo. It was my old unit, I guess Pops set it back up for him? "What's with the pip-squeak?" I asked Pops. He worked part time at the VA Hospital these days, so we sometimes only saw each other on the weekends. This was one of those rare work days where our paths crossed between the time he came home and I left for work. I made a couple burgers, and we sat to eat. "Oh, yeah," he said, with a sigh. "That's Dade." He reached for my finished plate, but I took it, along with his, to the sink. "Ok, so why is he in the house all the time?" I asked. I turned to the sink; damn, the water pressure sucked in this place. I hit it the plates with full stream. Like the shower pressure, it struggled to keep up. And Pops wonders why I take so long in there. I dropped the dishes into the sink, and turned to him, leaning on the counter. The sink began to gurgle, filling up the basin. "Well, Doug, it's pretty simple. When you went off to fight the commies-" "Pops, it's the 90's. I went to fight the Iraqi's - It was Dessert Storm, not-" "Listen boy! They are all commies! If they fight America, they are all fighting the right to be free. Now, stop inturruptin'." I nodded. He sat down, and sighed again. "So, when you went off to war, your daddy left town with that, whatchamacallher... lady doctor... pediatrist." I chuckled. My father was a lady hound to the end. He met this intern at this party, and they moved to Arizona. I wish him the best, but he did leave Pops alone. not cool. "Well, yes, so when he left," he pulled on his cane and edged over to the liquor cabinet. After dinner was always a nip at the brandy. "and you were gone," swig. "I needed to get some help around the house." Sip. "I put an ad on the local paper for someone to help once or twice a week with odd-jobs. He was the only one who didn't want handyman wages... so I gave him a chance. He's been great." "Then why the big sigh?" I asked. I took the brandy from him, smirking and taking a swig. It burned, oh so good. I took one more swig and put it away. He edged over to the lounger. "Well, to be honest, he's a great kid. He's 14. He's smart - so smart. Quiet as a mouse. Does everything I ask him to do, for almost pennies," he continued, flipping the channels on mute. "But his daddy..." I flopped on the couch next to him. I had to shower soon for work, but I was curious. "Yeah, his Daddy ain't so nice to him, I think." he set the remote down. "Doug, you know I ain't never hit you as a kid, 'less ya deserved it, right?" I sat up. "Yeah, Pops. We knew when we deserved it. Are you saying..." I faltered. He just nodded. "So, ya see, I kinda let the kid hang around here as much as he wants," I looked at my hands. I was 24 now, and I had seen things. I had done things. The war was not kind. But to abuse a child? I didn't ask the details, but I got the message. "If ya see him hangin' round," Pops continued, "just pretend like I gave him some chores, okay? Let him do his own thing. He... needs to feel safe." I slid off the couch, taking my shirt off on the way to my room. In this house, it's always been Pops, Dad, and me, so there was never anything weird about being shirtless, or even underwear-less. It was just guys walking around. We didn't even close the doors, usually. Which brings me back to 2 months ago. With my schedule, I was waking up about noon these days. I had a TV in my room, so I was just relaxing to a VHS. Some war movie I've seen a million times. It was a typical Wisconsin summer, so the bed had nothing but a couple sheets; at this time of day, the a/c just couldn't keep up with the 90 degree heat of Wisconsin. I was hot. I flipped off the sheets, letting myself sprawl out. The room was dark, but the light from the hallway was enough. I could hear the fan from the living room creaking as it blew the cool air from the living area down the hall. My room wasn't blessed with the magic that was a/c, so I had setup 2 fans - one in the hall, and one in my room - to keep the air coming my way. It worked well, but there was no way I was putting clothes on until it was time to go. As I lay there, I began to feel the urge coming on. The house was quiet. I was alone. Why not? I rubbed my hands through my ginger hair, then stretched. With deliberate care, I closed my eyes. I pictured myself in bed, next to Macy, my latest interest. She was my age, with blonde hair and a size 2 waist. We had seen each other a couple times, but she hadn't given anything up yet. 'Oh, Doug, you should touch me, please...' I heard her whisper, my hands now on my chest. My mind began to race with thoughts of what to do with her. With a mind of their own, my hands slid up and down my body, feeling the hard tone of my 6'2" body and my 190lb frame. I felt my abs tighten as each finger traced down them, my mind pretending that Macy's tongue was- The familiar creak of the door slammed my dream to a halt. I looked over at the clock. 3:30pm already! I scrambled to pull up the sheets, covering my hardness and slightly sweaty torso. It was too early for Pops. Damnit, Dade! I twisted my body up so that my leg would hide the obvious tent, and watched the hall as Dade dropped his pack, picked up an apple, and quietly walked down the hall. As he passed, I watched him look over, trying to hide that he was looking. Not that it mattered; I had relaxed a bit, my sheet covered the goods, and the movie on TV was still PG-13 at the most. Nothing obvious here. I did, however, get to take a long look at him. He was a nice lookin' kid. I had noted before that he had really deep blue eyes, but now that I saw him walk by, I really noticed him. He was not your average 14 year old. His features were... older. He was tall. Maybe 5'8", with a nice build. He could easily be in football or soccer. His blonde mop, obviously not kept up, always dangled heavy on his face. It was rare that I got to see him face-on, but I could see that he would be/will be/is a lady killer. They must be drooling over him. The familiar sound of Super Mario 3 began to sing from the room next to mine. I shook my head and laughed. What am I saying! The kid will never get laid. All he cares about is that damned video game! I twisted out of the sheets, my 7" of hard Macy memory now dwindled down to it's uncut softness of 3" or so. I slapped my belly a couple times, the firmness of all that army life still holding true. I kept up with my diet from there, using the MRE ration scale for KiloCarbs and intake volume. Just to be sure, I dropped to the floor and kicked out 50 pushups, then flipped to do 50 situps. Oh yeah, time for a shower. I grabbed my towel over my shoulder, turning the corner to the bathroom. In this house, the bathroom was directly across from our rooms. No need to get dressed just to jump the hall. The water groaned as I turned the knobs to full. I watched the pressure build, and the shower come alive. I stepped in, getting close to the wall. As I said, the pressure wasn't so great. In fact, the water was so low, that I could hear the familiar sound of the Nintendo, still going. Dade must be in a water level - oh, he just died. I closed my eyes, remembering when I would play the game back in the day. Soap in hand, it traced my body. I peeked into the mirror across from me, the steam not even getting close enough. This bathroom was huge, and even though the pressure sucked, It was still better than the Gulf! The game music brought me back, and I heard him die again. I lathered up my body with the soap, stripping off the sweat of my recent workout fall down the drain. I smiled as I thought about how many hours I played that game myself. In fact, that level was pretty easy. I could kick ass- wait, the music is still on the intro screen. I opened my eyes. "You need something, buddy?" I called out. Dade was standing just outside the doorway, his body blocked by the frame of the door. On hearing me speak, pulled back, and I heard the game begin again. 'That little Peeper!', I thought. The rest of my shower, I kept my eyes (and ears) open. After turning the water off, I wrapped my torso with the towel. Crossing the hall, Dade was there, in Pop's room, sitting indian style in front of the TV. He was now three levels further, and didn't blink from the screen. Did I imagine it? I closed my door to change, feeling the heat rise immediately from the lack of a/c flow. The game went silent, and soon the front door creaked. I went to work, the house empty. When I got home from work that morning, my thoughts went back to that image in my head. Dade WAS there in the door. I was sure of it. I stripped out of my Mobile uniform, the smell of old bakery and slurpie mix still on the front, and flopped in bed. I hadn't finished what I started, and my cock was mad at me for it, but I was just too tired. Even at full mast, I didn't have the energy. My hands began to slide up and down on the skin, and pre-cum oozed out, but my eyes grew heavy. It was that weird combination, I think, that lead to a dream. "Oh, Doug, you want this, don't you? My sexy lips on your hard manly nightstick?" I was tied to my bed. I was already naked, and Macy was there, in her work uniform. I couldn't tell what she did for a living, but it was sexy as fuck. I felt her breath on my neck, as she climbed to me, then slid slowly down my body. My hands urged to touch her, but I couldn't break free. She had me, and I was hard. Very hard. "Oh, such a strong, hard body... I like it! Should I taste you, baby?" She cooed. I nodded with glee, my mouth now stuffed with something. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. "But, no, no, no no no... baby, you're so dirty! All this gas-station-smell... I can't! In the shower, now!" she commanded. I was in the shower. It was hot. Water, with the perfect pressure, was washing down on me. I could feel the dirt slide off my body, and I could see Macy. She was watching me. I wanted to show her my desire. I began to stroke myself, and I could hear her moan lightly. She pulled back from the sink, backing to the doorway. He body, so young and sexy, curved just the way I like it. But my eyes were foggy. I couldn't see her clearly. From the doorway... she was... not Macy. Slowly, my eyes came to focus. In the background, a slight humming sound. Then more. Something was different. My hand was still caressing my uncut cock, and my body was getting tight. I could feel myself begin to thrust into my fist. I was getting close, but I couldn't stop. That wasn't Macy anymore. The room had changed. The person, the person at the doorway had... changed. My cock and my fist ignored my pleas, and I could feel my orgasm rising. "Arrrrghhhhh," I moaned, awakening to a huge orgasm. I gasped, my left hand gripping my rod tightly, my other hand clutching the bed. My whole body was stiff and convulsing. A rope of cum had fired from my body and landed on my abs, my cock still pulsing more and more out. I inhaled deeply, and realized what I had done. I had just had a wet dream. Something I hadn't had since before the Army. And... it wasn't from Macy. In my dream, it was Dade at the door. Just like yesterday afternoon. What. Was. Wrong with me? I caught my breath, grabbed a sock, and cleaned up. I fell asleep quickly, and thankfully, woke without any more dreams. But I had to wonder. Why.. did I dream that? The next few days, Dade didn't come by. Things went back to normal, and chalked up my dream to just a random mix of events. I wasn't gay. I mean, in the Army I had some chances. Maybe I got a blow job in a glory hole or two. But that was just to get off. The whole time, I was thinking about Stacy - my girlfriend before I left. She was so hot, how could I want a dude over her? But, I mean, was that it? Did I get off to her? Didn't I peek more than once at the dude next to me getting head the same time I was? Didn't I let him touch my ass as he was about to nut? No. NO. It was just guy stuff. "Hey Pops," I asked, "long time no see. Where's Dade been?" Pops pulled out the caserole dish from the oven. It was one of the days we could have dinner together. "You know, he mentioned a couple days ago that his daddy was gettin' a bit mad at him staying at 'school' all the time. He don't know that he comes here, ya'see." I nodded. "Hope he's ok." Pops shoveled some food to my plate, then his, and we ate in silence. When Dade came back, I was already awake, making myself some breakfast. I didn't know he was going to walk in, so I was standing there against the kitchen sink, naked as ever, drinking the milk from my bowl of Smacks. He walked in, set his bag down, and looked right at me. A deer in headlights, he held his breath. I swallowed hard and choked a bit. "Oh gosh, sorry dude! Didn't know you were gonna be here!" I twisted quick, and it broke his stare. He mumbled, "my fault, gonna play the game," and rushed out. I chuckled as I relived the look in his face. He looked at me, then at my cock, then back at me. Since I was just eating, of course I wasn't hard or nothing, but I could tell, there was something in his eyes. The more I thought of it, the more I began to wonder. My cock, not sure either, began to twitch. He was horny again, and the thought of someone looking at it was turning me on. Then it came to me. The shower. I dropped the bowl and rinsed it out, then headed to the shower. I could hear the game, and as I looked in on the room, Dade was glued to the screen. I decided to test it out. With the water ready and running, I stepped in, and began to lather up. I wanted to get clean quickly, so I could focus on my junk. In moments, I was washed and rinsed, but my hands didn't stop. I stepped out of the water flow, and let my soapy fingers wrap around my cock. the shower curtain was not clear, but anyone who looked could see my shadow form. To make it easier, I shift the curtain to the left, allowing part of the tub and wall to show through. From my estimate, if you were to settle in at the right side of the door frame, you would be able to see my now fully hard cock slowly being stroked by my left hand. At first, I kept my eyes on the door. The idea that someone was going to watch me was incredibly hot. My hand kept stroking, and my body began to slowly pump against myself. I grabbed a little more soap, adding to the slick feeling of my skin sliding between my fingers. My other hand pulled at my hair, and my head turned slightly to my biceps. After a short time, I paused, the feeling of my own erotic motions hitting me. The game was still going, and there was nothing. No one at the door. But I was into it now. I arched my head back, and rinsed out the shampoo. My ears, filled momentarily with water, didn't notice the game music in loop. I didn't notice the creaking of the floor as a 14 year old stepped quietly to the edge of the door. I continued jerking myself, my hand getting faster and faster. My toes curled slightly as the waves began to slide against me. I was breathing slower now, and the soft, lazy flow of water splashed on my abs. It wasn't until my eyes opened and my body warned me of my impending orgasm that I saw him. He was there, exactly in line with the gap between the door and the view in between the bath curtain. My eyes met his, and my whole body began to tense. I was gonna cum, and I couldn't stop it. I followed his eyes as he traced my chest, my abs, to my cock, now thrusting against the strokes of my hand. I grunted and tweaked as it drew closer and closer. His own eyes got wide, and his hands, once hiding his own erection in his Mosimo shorts and too-long tee-shirt, began to grab at it. He was hard, and he was touching it. I couldn't handle it anymore. I stared at his face, watching him watch me as my whole body shivered and a heavy, thick glob of cum shot out of my dick. It splashed on the wall, and waited for volley 2 and 3 to hit up right next to it. I hdan't cum this hard in a while, and the whole time, Dade stood there watching me. I closed my eyes, enjoying the cum load leaving me. The water became cool, and I could feel myself subsiding. When I opened my eyes, he was gone. The TV had gone quiet. The game was off. His bag was gone. And I had just orgasmed to a 14 year old voyeur. ======================================================== Like it? Email me. justwriting@soniq.org