Clay is on his way home from school when he hears his neighbors having sex. He isn’t sure at first what he’s hearing, but when he stops on the sidewalk outside and pauses to listen, he soon figures it out. There’s no mistaking it. Though he’s just eighteen years old, a senior at Glenwood High School, and technically (regrettably) still a virgin, Clay at least knows what sex sounds like. He’s seen a few videos on the Internet—not at home, where his parents have unrestricted access to his browsing history, but on his buddies’ phones, when they all squeeze in shoulder-to-shoulder on park benches or outside the shopping mall and stare down at five-inch screens, while tiny women take tiny cocks in tiny, pixelated assholes, with occasional interruptions as they wait for the video to refresh.
Clay is, as far as he knows, the only virgin in his grade, which fills him with dread. It’s not because he’s bad-looking—he’s tall, skinny but not too skinny, with curly brown hair and light-brown eyes. He’s had a few girlfriends, and he’s made out with lots of girls, but something has kept him from going all the way. Maybe it’s because he’s shy. Maybe he’s waiting for the right girl. Or maybe he knows that when the time comes—when he’s expected to take charge, be a man, and have his way with the girl, like the men in those videos—he’s afraid that he’s going to be too timid, too inexperienced, and ultimately exposed as a virgin and teased and tormented for the rest of his life.
His neighbors are really going at it, seemingly without concern for anyone within a mile radius of their house. Clay lives two blocks down the street, and he’s only seen his neighbors once or twice. A married couple, both probably in their early-thirties, dark-skinned and attractive. Clay is impressed that they can let themselves go like this, in the middle of the afternoon, with their windows obviously wide open. Clay feels an inexplicable but urgent desire to get nearer to them, to listen to two obvious experts at lovemaking. He takes a quick look up and down the street, and when he’s satisfied that no one is looking, he sprints through the yard, to the side of the house, and creeps over to their bedroom window.
Not only is the window open, Clay discovers, but the blinds are open as well. He drops to his knees outside the window, then raises his head and peers inside. He sees the back of a man’s bare ass between a woman’s legs, her toes pointed up at the ceiling. The man is thrusting into the woman, and her legs are shaking and buzzing in the air like an insect’s antennae. Through the open window, Clay can hear a wet, slapping sound. The woman is howling and shouting for the man to fuck her “harder, harder, harder, goddamn it,” and the man is barking words at her that Clay had never imagined a man could say to a woman without getting arrested, or at least slapped across the face.
Clay watches them for a few minutes, until the man collapses in a heap on top of the woman. Clay drops down, crawls out of view of the window, then runs back home. He returns the next day, then the day after that, and the day after that.
The couple is, beyond question, indefatigable. They don’t take a day off. Each day on his way home from school, Clay stops by their window, and if they aren’t yet making love, Clay has learned that they will be when he returns later in the evening. He has watched the man penetrating his wife from behind. He’s watched the woman sit on her husband’s face, riding his face like one of those mechanical horses outside the drug store. He’s seen both of them fall clumsily off the bed, then continue to fuck on the floor.
One evening, when Clay returns to his spot outside the bedroom window, he’s surprised to look in and see the woman sitting alone on the bed. She’s wearing a white robe and appears to be crying. The man is nowhere to be seen. Clay knows he should go away, leave this woman alone with whatever is grieving her, but he can’t look away. She’s just so beautiful. Clay wishes he could reach inside and secretly, invisibly, brush away her tears. And then, all at once, the woman looks up and sees Clay in the window. Clay drops to the ground, but he knows it’s too late. They definitely made eye contact. He hears her voice ring out:
“I saw you,” she says. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You think it’s funny to spy on folks?”
Clay knows he should get up and run, but he’s paralyzed by fear and regret. He’s crouched underneath the window, hoping she forgets about him, but after a moment she pulls open the blinds and sticks her head outside.
“I see you,” she says, looking down at Clay through the window. “What the hell is the matter with you, spying on me like that?”
“I’m sorry,” Clay says. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I couldn’t help it.”
“You couldn’t help it?” she says. “You couldn’t help it? Boy, get inside this house. I’m about to have a word with you.”
Clay looks up at the woman. She looks angry, but not homicidal. She probably won’t kill him. Besides, he realizes how easy it would be for her to figure out where he lives and then talk to his parents. He might as well go into the woman’s house, beg her forgiveness, and take his chances.
The woman opens the front door and directs Clay inside. She tells him to sit down on the living room sofa, and she sits in a chair across from him. She’s still wearing her white robe, tied in a knot in front. Her hair is knotted in back and, though her eyes seem to be a little red from crying and her lips are pressed into a scowl, Clay can’t get over how stunning she is.
“What’s your name?” the woman asks.
“Mine’s Kendra. OK then, Clay, you can begin by telling me why you were spying on me.”
“I heard somebody crying,” Clay says. “And I was worried that someone was being hurt, so I wanted to make sure—”
“Cut the crap,” Kendra says. “I know this isn’t the first time you’ve been looking through my window.”
“You—you what?” Clay says.
“That’s right,” Kendra says. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you in my window last night, and the night before that. I know you’ve been watching me and my husband.”
“You’ve known I was watching you all this time?” Clay asks. “But why didn’t you say something? Or call the cops?”
Kendra shrugs. “Oh, who knows?” she says. “Maybe I liked it.”
Clay feels his blood rush to his head. “What about your husband?” he asks, looking around the house. “Does he know, also?”
“No,” Kendra says. “My husband wouldn’t notice if a grizzly bear walked right up in here and took a shit on the sofa. There’s not a whole lot that gets through to my husband. Well, my soon-to-be-ex-husband, I should say.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Clay says. “Is that why you were crying?”
“First of all, Clay, that’s none of your concern,” Kendra says. “But no, I wouldn’t waste a tear on that lazy, no-account scrub. He’s never been worth shit. The only reason I’m upset is because he was such a good fuck.”
Clay blushes. “Oh,” he says, looking away. “I see.”
Kendra laughs. “You know, for being a Peeping Tom, you sure are bashful. How old are you, anyway?”
“Eighteen,” Clay says.
Kendra clucks her tongue. “Hoo boy,” she says. “Just a spring chicken. So tell me, Clay, and be honest this time, why were you watching me and my husband have sex?”
“I don’t know,” Clay says. “I guess I—I wanted to see how it’s done.”
“Excuse me?” Kendra says. “How what’s done? Sex? You’re telling me you haven’t had sex yet? Lord. When I was your age, I’d already had at least three pregnancy scares. What’s the matter with schools these days, when kids have to peek in through folks’ windows to learn about sex?”
“I’m sorry, again,” Clay says, beginning to stand up from the sofa. “I should really be going.”
“Boy, sit down,” Kendra says. “We’re not finished here. I want you to tell me what you were thinking about all those times you were watching me.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “To be honest, I guess I was thinking about how, you know, intense it was. All the cursing and pounding and slapping? That can’t actually feel good all the time, can it?”
“You may be young, Clay, but you’re perceptive,” Kendra says. “You’re right, it does not feel good all the time. It feels good some of the time, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I just wish my husband would try a little tenderness, like Otis Redding says.”
“Otis who?” Clays asks.
Kendra sighs. “Nevermind. The point I’m trying to make is, folks get off to all kinds of different things. Sometimes folks even get off knowing someone is spying on them through the bedroom window.”
Clay blushes. He begins to speak, but Kendra interrupts him:
“Listen to me,” she says. “Peeking in through folks’ windows shouldn’t be your only experience with sexuality. You certainly can’t go off to college without knowing what it’s like to be tender with a woman. Tell you what, Clay, let’s you and I make a deal.”
“Sure,” Clay says. “What kind of deal?”
Kendra stands up from the chair. She unknots her hair and lets it fall to her shoulders. She walks over to the sofa and holds out her hands.
“Let’s be tender together,” she says.
She takes Clays hands, pulls him up from the couch, and leads him into the bedroom. She sits him down on the edge of the bed, then stands in front of him with her hands on her hips. Clay’s heart is racing, his throat is dry, and he’s forgotten how to blink his eyes.
“Would you like to see my body, Clay?” Kendra asks, then laughs. “What am I saying? You’ve already seen my body. Let me say that a different way. Would you like to be invited to see my body?”
“Yes,” Clay says. “I would.”
“Then untie my robe,” Kendra says.
Clay grasps the strings of the robe and gently tugs on them, until Kendra’s robe falls open like clouds parting. She pulls the robe off her shoulders and lets it fall to the ground. Kendra’s breasts are round and full. Her abs are toned, her legs are long and muscular, and the hair above her pussy is trimmed to a thin ribbon. Being this close to her body at this moment, feeling the heat from her, gives Clay an entirely unfamiliar sensation. He feels like his blood is on fire.
“Take your shirt off,” she tells Clay. He lifts his T-shirt over his head and drops it to the floor.
“Good,” Kendra says. “Now comes the fun part.”
She lowers herself to her knees and smiles up at Clay. She unbuttons the top button of Clay’s blue jeans, then drags the zipper slowly down. She tugs his jeans and boxers down. Clay’s cock stands at attention, already fully hard, a pearl of cum shining at the tip.
“Oh my,” Kendra says. “Who knew you were packing such a large tool in your toolbox? You should be proud, Clay.”
She pushes Clay’s legs apart. She takes his cock in her hand and begins to stroke him. Clay leans back and moans. Kendra spits into her hands, then takes Clay again with both hands and works on him, getting his cock polished and slick. She strokes him for a minute, then bends forward closer and opens her mouth. Clay takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
“Uh uh,” Kendra says. “Nope. Open your eyes. I want you to see me.”
Clay watches as Kendra lowers her mouth on his cock. When she wraps her lips around him, he feels like he’s going to melt, like his entire body is going to dissolve into a sticky puddle. He lets out a long moan that comes from somewhere deep inside and seems to last forever. Kendra moves her head up and down on Clay, gently massaging his balls in her hand. She takes him out of her mouth, licks a pearl of cum from the tip of his cock, then puts him back in her mouth. Clay’s left leg begins to jerk wildly, and he bites down on his tongue to keep from shouting.
Kendra takes him out of her mouth and looks up at Clay.
“That’s enough of that,” she says. “We don’t want you finishing before we’ve even gotten started.”
Kendra stands up, then crawls onto the bed and lies back on her pillow.
“Now, Clay,” she says. “If you ever expect to keep a woman, you’re going to have to learn to eat pussy. I see that look on your face. Don’t worry, I’ll help guide you. Come here.”
Kendra spreads her legs and beckons Clay to her. He lowers his head between Kendra’s thighs and begins licking her like an ice cream cone.
“Not so fast,” Kendra says. “Go slowly, slowly. That’s right. Come in closer. Really put your mouth on me. Don’t be afraid to really get in there. Yes, like that. Yes, that’s good.”
Clay moves his mouth all over Kendra, eating her pussy as if this were his first time tasting the most delicious thing in the world. Kendra reaches down, spreads her labia, and helps Clay find her clit. She tells him to pay special attention to this area, to treat it as a stubborn pearl that he needs to cajole, tease, and draw out of its shell using only his tongue and lips. Clay presses down on her clit and sucks.
“Yes,” Kendra breathes. “Yes, that’s it. Oh fuck, I think you’ve got the hang of it. Oh god, just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop.”
She reaches for Clay’s hands and places them on her breasts. Clay embraces and massages Kendra’s breasts with his hands while his face is buried in her pussy. Kendra closes her eyes and moans.
Soon Kendra pulls Clay’s head away. She looks down at him and laughs. His face is drenched and glistening.
“Oh, poor baby,” she says. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were drowning.”
Clay smiles wide. “I love it.”
Kendra laughs again. “That’s what I like to hear,” she says. “But I’m not done with you yet. Wipe your face off and come here.”
Clay wipes his face with the back of his hand. Kendra reaches for Clay’s cock and guides it into her pussy. They moan together as Clay enters Kendra.
“Go slow, baby,” she says. “Be tender with me.”
Kendra holds onto Clay’s hips and guides him, pulling him into her, guiding him out, pulling him back into her.
“Just like that,” she says. “Slow and steady wins the race.”
“You feel so good,” Clay breathes.
“I know,” Kendra says. “You do too. Your cock feels good to me.”
Clay continues to move inside of Kendra, both of them moaning in each other’s ears. Clay begins to move faster and faster, until Kendra, in one quick movement, flips Clay over onto his back so that she’s now straddling him. She sits up straight and begins to rock back and forth on Clay’s cock. She closes her eyes and bites her lips. She rubs hard against him, back and forth, side to side, grinding slowly at first, then she begins to bounce up and down faster and faster, slamming herself hard onto Clay’s cock. Clay feels a surging inside of him, rushing forth like an avalanche or a tsunami.
“I think I’m—” he says. “I think I’m going to cum.”
“Yes, Clay,” Kendra says. “Yes, baby. Cum inside me.”
Clay’s throws his arms up howls at the ceiling as he lets go inside of Kendra. He feels like he’s going to cum forever, filling Kendra with every drop of cum he’s got inside his balls, but when he finally finishes, Kendra reaches down, grabs his balls and squeezes, and Clay cums again, whimpering and shuddering underneath Kendra.
Kendra rests her head on Clay’s chest. “You did great,” she says.
Clay wraps his arms around Kendra, panting heavily and happily. He closes his eyes, savoring the feeling, blissfully fatigued. But then Clay suddenly jerks his head up.
“Did you hear that?” he says.
“Hear what?” Kendra asks.
“I think there’s somebody at the window,” Clay says.