David Crane: Peeping family

As she stood there, looking through at her parents' empty bed at the cum stains on the sheet she heard a light knock on her own bedroom door. It startled her. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to step out into the hall from the closet. Whoever it was might wonder why she had been in the closet and get suspicious. She decided to remain quiet and wait for whoever it was to go away. She heard the door open.

She felt annoyed. She didn't like anyone to enter her bedroom without being invited mainly because she was quite often giving herself a furious hand-job and didn't want to be interrupted. She wondered again who it was, and then it occurred to her that she could find out easily enough, simply by looking through the other mirror.

She turned and looked.

She was surprised.

It was Robert, the gardener.

The Bradshaws were not stuffy people. When Robert was working nearer to the main house than to the garage, he was allowed to use the bathroom in the house, as long as he entered by the rear door and went up the back staircase. Thus, his presence in the house was no surprise.

But why had he gone into her room?

Was he a thief? Amanda wondered. She watched him through the glass. He certainly acted suspicious, she thought. He was blushing and he looked around in a very guilty fashion.

Then she noticed that he had a hard-on.

It pushed out the front of his jeans, and it looked like a whopper, too.

Amanda began to get interested.

Robert moved to her dresser. He looked around again, his eyes bright, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looked like the villain in a silent film, she thought. Then he pulled open one of the drawers and looked in. After a moment, he reached in and fumbled around.

He brought out a pair of Amanda's bikini panties.

He held them to his face, inhaling. His tongue came out and lapped at the crotchpiece. His expression was twisted by lust and his cock was thundering away in his tight jeans.

The sight thrilled Amanda. She had not taken much notice of Robert before. Now she saw that he was a good-looking young man with a big prick. She moved closer to the looking glass, beginning to pant.

He opened his fly. His cock sprang out like a coiled spring.

Amanda looked at it. It was not as large as her father's, but it was plenty big and hard as a lump of iron. The cockhead was tapered, rather like one of the spades he used in the garden. He reached in and hauled his balls out, too. They were swollen, obviously full of spunk.

Looking at his prick, Amanda began to feel horny again. Her pussy started to glow like a hot ember between her legs and her mouth began to water. She had never had a cock in her mouth, but she had a pretty good idea that it would be a tasty mouthful. Her mother certainly seemed to enjoy it. And it must be wonderful when a guy came, filling your mouth full of that thick, hot cum. The stuff looked yummy, she thought, remembering how it had come pouring out from her mother's cunt.

Amanda was sorely tempted to return to her bedroom and catch Robert in the act.

Not being stuffy, she had no qualms about blowing a common gardener, and it was obvious that Robert's prick was sadly in need of some sucking or fucking. But the girl was so intrigued by the novelty of the mirror that she decided to simply watch this time.

She stood right up against the glass, her hot nipples brushing it, tits and belly flattening against the surface.

Robert began to jack off.

He was stroking his prick with Amanda's panties. His hips humped as he fucked through his fist. The panties fluttered around his prick in silken caresses. His face contorted so that he looked like a demented animal, teeth bared, eyes slitted. He began, to tremble and shake. Amanda kept her eyes glued to his cock, eagerly awaiting his orgasm. Suddenly, he shuddered violently.

A heavy load of jism erupted in a creamy geyser from the head of his prick. The slippery cum skimmed over the crotch-piece of her panties. He continued to beat his meat furiousiy, pounding it to a pulp, and spurt after spurt of cum streamed out into her undergarment. His cock might not be quite as big as her father's, Amanda thought, but he had every bit as much jism in his balls.

She thought he was never going to stop shooting.

At long last, his prick was emptied.

Looking a bit sheepish, now, the boy wiped his cock and balls clean with her panties. He looked around, probably for a clothes hamper. Finding none, he shrugged.

He put the soaking panties back in the drawer.

Staggering a bit, he left her room.

Amanda waited until he had time to go downstairs.

Her pussy felt as if it might ignite, suddenly bursting into flames. It felt incandescent between her thighs. She moved into the hall and her cunt squished with every step. But she didn't touch herself, yet. There was something that the oversexed teenager wanted to do, first. She went into her room and moved to the dresser. She found the sodden panties among her other undergarments.

The crotch band was covered with quick silvery cum.

Amanda brought them to her face. She pushed her tongue out and licked, tentatively. She paused, savoring her first-ever taste of jism. Then she smiled, discovering that it was succulent. She began to lap away, gathering the stuff up with her tongue and letting it slide around on her tastebuds, then slip down her throat.

If cum tasted that good, secondhand, she could just imagine how delicious it would be if and when she drank it all hot and bubbly out of a big prick. And she fully intended to, very soon. Robert, perhaps it didn't really matter to the cock-hungry girl. The man at the other end of the prick was not important, as long as the prick itself was big and hard and full of spunk.

She tongued her panties clean.

Then she rubbed them around in her soaking pussy, getting them nice and slimy again, thinking that she would rub herself off with them, just as Robert had. After a moment, she brought them back to her mouth. She had a sudden curiosity as to what cunt juice tasted like. She lapped the stuff up, purring like a cat at a bowl of cream.

Cunt juice was surprisingly tasty, she discovered.

She pushed three fingers up her cunt and twisted them about, then brought them to her lips and sucked on them, pretending they were a prick as she slurped her own pussy juice from them. She finger-fucked herself with one hand and fucked into her mouth with the other, then switched. She was truly getting carried away now. She had never been so hot before.

She crossed the room and stood in front of the looking glass, pretending that Robert was on the other side, that they had, changed places. She pushed her crotch out and spread her thighs so that her pussy was reflected in the glass. She began to finger-fuck herself lovingly, watching in the mirror as her fingers pushed in and pulled out and her pink cunt lips sucked on them. She knew that she would be driving the make-believe man behind the mirror wild. She smiled at him through the glass. She wished that he were really there.

Her cunt melted.

Hot juice poured down her thighs. She pushed her crotch right up against the glass, streaking it with cunt juice.

She finger-fucked herself to a lovely and prolonged climax that left her as weak-kneed as Robert by the time the last spasm of ecstasy had subsided.

Smiling happily, Amanda lay down on the bed to rest.

And to wait for her next chance to make use of those wonderful two-way mirrors.

For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, nothing else happened nothing to be glimpsed through the glass.

Robert returned to his gardening. He felt rather ashamed of himself; in fact, guilty and also, in retrospect, frightened. Suppose Amanda had walked in and caught him jerking off in her panties? The very thought gave the lad an icy chill.