Diane knew she should stop watching. That she ought to turn away, go back downstairs, have a glass of wine, watch a bit of TV, and forget the whole thing. That's what a responsible adult would do, wasn't it? And if what happened next had only waited a few more seconds to happen, she probably would have done just that. But fate was a little too fast, and Thomas dropped his shorts, revealing a surprisingly substantial cock, hanging semi-stiff between his thighs. He then proceeded to grip it between his thumb and forefinger, and friskily swung it in circles, clearly impressed with himself.
"Jesus," Diane allowed herself to swear softly.
Then as if for good measure, he gripped the thing in his fist, tugging at it as if choking a serpent. In response his cock swelled and stiffened even more, until it was fully engorged and free-standing. Diane simply stared. It was only fair, she rationalized. He'd seen her naked, so now it was her turn. Speaking of which, could that be what had him so excited? Was it the memory of her dancing in front of him without clothes on? It had only been a few seconds, but she recalled the way his eyes had ravenously devoured her body. And now, her curiosity was starting to give way to a familiar warm, tingling sensation.
Without warning, Thomas ducked out of view. Diane felt an instant of disappointment coupled with relief. After all, what the hell was she doing? A thirty-six-year-old woman spying on the neighbor's son. It was creepy and desperate. Had she really sunk this low since the divorce, to be secretly perving on teen boys? Shouldn't she be looking for more adult satisfaction?
Thomas reappeared in the window, interrupting Diane's self-chastisement. He was totally naked now, and his cock was as hard as ever. It twitched excitedly as his hand ran in smooth up and down motions, but it had now taken on a glistening shine right down to the hairless trunk. Diane concluded that Thomas had used some oil or other lube to facilitate things.
He continued searching the downstairs windows of her house, not seeming to suspect that she was watching from above. Transfixed once again, Diane let her hands begin to wander her own body, caressing her breasts, and thrilled by the small spark of excitement as she passed over her nipples. She grabbed her breasts giving them a firm squeeze and exhaled sharply.
Thomas went to his unmade bed, cock in hand, and lay back on it. Diane watched him toss and turn in a comic fashion to get comfortable while refusing to release his prized cock. He kicked furiously at a loose blanket until it fell in a pile on the floor. Finally, unencumbered, he settled and returned his attention to his rhythmic stroking. After a few moments, he closed his eyes, getting lost in his imagination.
Diane could only wonder what fantasies were running through the boy's mind. Was he thinking of her that afternoon a few days ago? Was he recreating her body in his thoughts, and if so, what was he doing with it? The possibilities of all the ways his young brain might be using her excited Diane.
Her hand slipped inside her sweatpants and found the desperately wet and destitute spot between her thighs. She knew it was shameful to be masturbating to this unaware teen boy, but at this point, she could barely help herself. God, it had been so long since she'd seen a cock, and never one so gorgeous as the one Thomas squeezed in his hand.
The pace of his stroking quickened. The swollen purple head consumed by his hand, and then emerging again, and again, and again. Diane slipped her fingers inside herself, seeking out all the right spots. Thomas had begun moving his hips, actually thrusting his pelvis up as his hand slid down to the base of his cock. She sensed that he was close. She thought of herself there with him, on top of him, his cock driving hard into her covetous wet pussy.
Suddenly, Thomas's body seemed to seize up. He gripped his cock tight enough for his knuckles to grow pale. A split-second later a huge jet of thick white cum erupted from the tip of his cock and shot over his belly and chest. A second spurt followed the first, and then a third. The spectacle tipped Diane over the edge of her own orgasm. All of the building tension released in a rush of tingling pleasure starting in her clit and spreading through her entire body. She let go a small, satisfied moan as she felt her body ease into the warm feeling.
She continued to watch the scene in the next house more from curiosity than sexual obligation now. She watched Thomas' chest moving up and down hard, a sort of half-smile across his face as he dabbled his fingers through the trail of cum that crossed his torso. After a minute or two, he finally got up from the bed, his lube-polished cock dangled again, and Diane could just make out the formation of a little pearl of cum still forming at the tip of it. He bent over and picked up an old t-shirt from the floor. He used it to wipe himself down. She noticed him twitch subtly as he cleaned the last dribble of cum from the head of his cock.
Still sensitive, huh? Diane thought to herself with a devilish smile. She remembered how she used to enjoy teasing the men she'd been with after they'd cum, and the manner in which they'd responded to even the lightest of caresses. However, Thomas spent only a minimal amount of time attending to his detumescent member, after which he went to his closet and buried the cum-soaked t-shirt in the bottom of his laundry hamper. Then he slipped easily back into the clothes he'd been wearing and left his bedroom. Ugh, Diane thought to herself. Boys can be so gross!
As for Diane, she felt that a nice long bath would be awfully welcome at the moment. She left the attic to go and run one for herself, knowing that she'd be replaying what she'd just witnessed in her mind for some time.