But I really wasn't peeking, I swear! - Sex Stories

But I really wasn't peeking, I swear!

COPYRIGHT 2015 THIS STORY IS THE PROPERTY OF TOM1001JOHNSON@GMAIL.COM I WROTE IT. I'm dyslexic, so I'd like to pair up with an editor. “Sweetie, you can't go peeking in windows.” I had seen him naked, standing next to his bed, seen his penis just a few feet from my face. But he had seen me too, standing right in front of his window. He had called me into the living room. “Gail, get in here,” he had said. I'd felt scared when he said it, felt scared that he'd said it that way, too. “I didn't peek, didn't mean to peek, really.” “Don't lie to me.” “But I thought I'd dropped something, my necklace, you know, from my window.” “Your window? Please don't insult my intelligence and your own with stupid lies. There' a gutter. You can see it, from your window. From the ground too, from under my window, too.” “I'm not lying.” I really had gone into the bushes under his window to see if my gold necklace had dropped down there. All I knew was that it was gone and that the window had been open. But he was right, there was a gutter right the the little roof that jutted under my window. My necklace hadn't been there when I'd leaned out and looked into it. “We should call your mom. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.” I was staying with him for the summer. “Please?” I begged. “Lynn, it's perfectly natural and probably healthy for a girl your age to be curious about guys' bodies.” “But I wasn't. It was my necklace.” “You can't stay here if I can't trust you to tell me the truth. Your mom, she said ...

... that you've been lying to her.” It was true, I had lied a lot to my mom, but I wasn't lying to him. We had been fighting a lot, me with her girlfriend, too. She had said that I needed to spend time with a man, a father figure. My dad wasn't around – it was like no one knew where he was – so I only had my uncle, my dad's brother. I really wanted to stay with him, too. “I'm sorry,” I whispered. “For what?” “For peeking, for lying.” “Just don't lie to me any more, okay?” “I won't.” I felt like laughing because I was lying by pretending to admit that I'd lied to him and that I'd intentionally peeked in his window. “You were curious?” “Yes,” I lied. “You never saw a guy's penis before?” I wanted to tell him that I hadn't even known that he was going to go change. “Yes, never.” “Well, I guess that I'm not shy.” He opened his robe. He was naked under it. His penis was dangling right there. I giggled nervously. “Go ahead, look.” I did, I looked. He put his hands on my shoulders, “Sit down,” he said and pushed me down so that I sat on his coffee table. “If you get curious again, just ask. I'll show you.” “Thank you,” I whispered. It looked bigger around than a roll of quarters and a little longer, too. We used quarters for the little laundry room in our basement in our apartment building, so I'd handled rolls of quarters. The end, the last inch, was fatter than a quarter, too. He lifted it. “See the pee-hole?” I nodded. It was about a foot from my face. I could smell him, a salty guy ...