Page 1 of Scarred Mountain Man
1
SUMMER
Amountain man lived in the cottage next to mine. I watched him through my window earlier today, chopping wood, shirtless.
There was something so clichéd about it, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I stood at the front window, peering through the blinds like a stalker, practically drooling over the way his muscles flexed as he wielded that ax and slammed it into those logs.
Was he cutting firewood? This was a strange time of year for that. Maybe he was stocking up for winter. We were four months away from fall, so nobody would be starting up their log fireplaces or making campfires for a good while.
Tonight, though, I discovered something new. My bedroom window overlooked his bathroom. That light hadn’t been on the past few nights as I got ready for bed, but tonight it was. And tonight, he was pulling off his shirt and once again showing those muscles.
I should look away. It was a total invasion of privacy. It might even be illegal. But would he call the cops on me if he caught me peering through my window at him? Doubtful. He looked like the kind of guy who didn’t give a crap what anyone thought of him.
I shifted my weight from one leg to the other and realized something. I’d noticed it earlier while watching him chop wood. The crotch of my underwear was wet.
I’d seriously been watching him for all of three minutes, and that had already happened. If I knew how to do something about it, I would. But I’d never had an orgasm. I’d never even had sex.
Here I was, a virgin in a town full of hot mountain men, just trying to help my friend out with the new daycare she’d started in the beautiful mountains of North Carolina in a town called Seduction Summit. And there were all these super-hot guys…it was almost a crime that I had no idea what to do about it.
Whether it was illegal or not, the ethics of what I was doing got to me. I was watching my neighbor undress without him even knowing. I should give him privacy. Ihadto give him privacy.
“Do better, Summer,” I said to myself as I stepped away from the window and eyed my closet.
Pajamas, comfy socks, and bed. That was what I had in mind.
It had been a long day at the daycare. We only had five kids, but one was a handful. The daycare owner, my best friend Daisy, was trying to figure out a way to break it to his parents that we wouldn’t be able to watch him anymore. He was harassing one of the two younger girls in our care, and no amount of talking to him would change that.
Just as I was stepping back, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. It was my gorgeous neighbor, looking down at his jeans as though he were thinking about removing them.
Yeah, I definitely shouldn’t look—especially if he was getting naked. So why was I still standing here? Why was I gaping as he reached for the fastening of his jeans and unbuttoned, unzipped, and let them drop?
That left him wearing a pair of plain white boxer briefs. The impressive bulge in them made it even more impossible to look away. No matter how much I willed my body to get the heck out of here, I couldn’t move. I should turn and face away from him. Climb into bed. Turn off my lights and go to sleep like a good girl.
It didn’t happen. Instead, I was frozen as he shoved down his underwear, closed his eyes, and wrapped his hand around his shaft.
Holy guacamole. Was this guy going to?—?
My thoughts cut off as he actually did. He began moving his hand from the tip and then back to the base, slowly at first and gradually picking up the pace. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back slightly—his lips parted, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths.
I squirmed a little. This was where, if I knew how to pleasure myself, I would. I felt the need to find release, but I’d never done that before. I’d been told all my life it was wrong. And if I even thought about touching myself, I saw the stern face of my mom and the even sterner face of my grandmother. That took all the fun out of it.
I crept closer to the window and ducked down. He hadn’t given any indication he could see me over here, but the light was on. All he would have had to do was glance to the right.
What if he saw me in his peripheral vision? What if he knew I was standing here watching him, and he was doing this on purpose? Why did that thought turn me on even more?
He was moving faster now, his chest rising and falling quickly. What was he thinking about while he did that? Did he picture a woman naked in front of him? Maybe on top of him? Maybe doing with her mouth what he was doing with his hand?
I pressed my fingers against the seam of my jeans, mostly to stop the pulsing that was happening in that area of my body. The moisture had soaked through the thick denim.
When his pumping reached an almost frantic speed, I knew he was getting close. Was he just going to shoot cum everywhere? That seemed messy, but he was in the bathroom, so it wouldn’t be that hard to clean up.
I couldn’t believe the thoughts I was having right now. I was worried about the practicality of what he was doing. I’d probably suck at sex if I ever got a chance at it. The way things were going, that wouldn’t happen, anyway.
I swore I heard him cry out. A roar. Or maybe that was a wild animal outside, but it happened at the same time liquid shot out of the tip of his cock and the stroking began to slow.
And then he stilled, and I knew it was over.
I should crawl over to bed. Yes, that was exactly what I’d do. But just before I did, I saw something I couldn’t unsee. It might even keep me up all night.
