I live in a small town located in a distant suburb of Los Angeles. My Mom and Dad each work, and they work long hours. I am nineteen years old and I’m in my last year at Community College. I’m average in height, semi-athletic, and enjoy the outdoors. The backyard at our home, as several others in our neighborhood, is surrounded by a tall wooden, slat fence. The slats overlap for privacy and the height, at nearly seven foot, acts to ensure it.
Our backyard is well landscaped and maintained by father, mother and I. I like the green bushes and small trees scattered throughout the yard. I frequently water the yard without being asked. When studying I prefer using a small, foldable aluminum lounge chair that I can move easily. On warm summer days I move it into the shade of the house, out of the sun. The cool breeze seems to materialize out of nowhere and seems unaffected by the fencing. This way, because the neighborhood is usually quiet during the day, I can study very effectively.
On the north side of our property is another quiet home. It is owned by a late middle-aged couple whose children have left the nest. Their place includes a rather large ‘L-shaped’ swimming pool that runs along our fence and curves slowly around to the rear of a family room that was added after the original construction. There is a walkway completely surrounding the pool, and a few pieces of outdoor furniture. At the time of my story, the neighbors have gone on a two-week cruise given to them by their kids, for their twenty fifth wedding anniversary.
Apparently, from stories I’ve heard, the guy was born first and early into his family. His family was large and his youngest brother was born about twenty five years later. This short story is mostly about the younger brother.
This brother was in his mid-twenties when the family left on the cruise. He was invited to stay at their home as a type of house sitter. He was a college student also, but was in graduate school at UCLA. The prospect of a private pad appealed to him and he moved in. The guy was kind of handsome, about six foot tall and athletic appearing. However, he’d never been into sports and preferred intellectual pursuits. He had learned to workout, using weights, to keep his weight down and his strength up. As a kind of nerd, he hadn’t had many girl friends and none had been serious. I’d only seen him once, at a distance, and he’d been dressed in grubbies – – I wasn’t impressed.
The night before they left on the cruise, two days previously, the neighbors had come to see my folks. They explained that his little brother would be at home while they were gone and asked my folks to keep an eye on the place, too.
I got up early on a Monday morning, pulled on only a pair of old shorts and a tank top. Then I s aw my folks off to work and fixed myself breakfast — cottage cheese and dry toast. I had been overly concerned with my appearance in high school and tried to make myself into one of those skinny models you see on TV. I wanted boys to notice me. They didn’t.
When I was close to graduation, without being asked to the Prom, I let myself go some and ate what I wanted and exercised when I felt like it. I filled out then and actually went about ten pounds heavier than I probably should be. All of a sudden I had lots of boys asking me out, but I held a grudge and only went out occasionally.
I’m interested and intrigued by sex, but I’ve never gone all the way and I hate guys that think I’m easy or a play toy. I’ve walked home from a few dates, and called my Dad after a few others. I even kneed a guy once. I’m as straight as I can be. I’ve heard all about sex from some of my friends, and I’ve heard what boys like and what my friends like. I don’t ever want to have extramarital sex, but the male sex organ really fascinates me. I don’t masturbate, or at least I don’t think its masturbation. Sometimes I linger with my legs wrapped around a pillow. Or I stayed pressed against something a little longer than necessary.
I’d gone out in the yard early that morning, it was warm and I had a lot of studying to do. The morning went well and I lay back to take a short nap, then I heard a door slam somewhere. A moment later I heard furniture and other stuff being moved. Still later I heard a strange clanging in the air. I listened and determined that it was coming from over the fence, probably the guy next door.
My lounge was about three feet from the fence but the noise didn’t bother me. Then I heard someone dive into the pool and the sound of swimming. It got quiet before I hear dthe sound of wet feet on the cement next door. I tilted my head and was listening, then I saw hands come up and grip the edge of the fence from the other side. It sounded like the guy was exercising, and I knew he couldn’t see over that fence. I sat quietly, and stared at those hands. Finally one of them disappeared, but the second remained. Then I really saw something strange.
I noticed a knot hole at a height slightly above my waist and about three feet beyond where I was laying. What attracted me to it was movement. I looked down and my mouth dropped open. The guy was sticking through the hole. I don’t mean his finger, either. It stuck through quite a ways, was large, and appeared firm. I guessed this was what my friends meant as a hard on (or heart on?).
I held my breath and then realized that he must be rolling his hips, because that thing was circling in the air. I was fascinated, but scared. He left it there for about a minute that seemed like an eternity, and then retracted it and jumped back into the pool. Fortunately, nothing escaped from that thing.
That afternoon and the next morning I couldn’t help but think about it and I’ve had a good mental image that I toyed with. I repeated my previous morning, and the guy repeated almost the same routine. This time I had in my hand the digital camera my Dad gave me for Christmas. It was absolutely silent when I pressed the button and I’de turned off the flash. I must have taken ten pictures of it before it retracted, and even got one from really up close. I even wanted to touch it, but was afraid.
After he went back, in the house, I went into my own house and downloaded the pictures to my computer. Then I transferred them to a floppy disk, and erased them from my hard drive. My own hard drive was in high gear and wanted to see more of his. I made a color printout on photo paper, of the close-up, and was glad that my Dad and Mom wouldn’t find them on the computer.
I hid the diskette and stared at the picture. I studied it all afternoon, retrieved the diskette and reopened the pictures. I spent the evening thinking about it and fantasizing. Just as I fell asleep that night, I had an inspiration.