A girl named Riley moved in next door. It was the beginning of spring, the northern hemisphere was getting ready for months of sunshine. Riley was a student, as was I, but she wouldn’t start the new academic year until after the summer break. In the meantime, she earned some money working in a bar downtown. I knew that from one of the few chats we had just after she had moved all her stuff from her parents’ house to the big city.
Riley had a lot of free time, and she spent a significant part of that time on the small balcony we shared. The first time I saw her enjoying the early spring sun, I was amazed by the shape of her body – it was perfect in every imaginable way. She wasn’t tall, and she must have weighed just over a hundred pounds, if not less. The countours followed a tight, hourglass-like figure, starting at her upper legs, towards her hips, getting thinner at her waist, before spreading out again as her upper body began. It wasn’t the pretentious workout kind of skinny, it was simply the way her genes had told her body to grow. Her chest contained a pair of breasts that weren’t to be called large, yet they did look bigger than one would expect to find on a slender girl like Riley. Her face wasn’t necessarily pretty, more like cute; ginger waves of hair hung down from her head, long enough to cover her chest if she wanted it to.
The first stares
I stared at her, that very first time. I stared for a long time, through the safety of the Venetian blinds that made it easy for me to peek outside, but near impossible for an outsider to look back. Riley was reading a book, and couldn’t possibly know she was being gazed upon. Her running shorts showed the first bit of skin that should have been hidden from sight – I knew right then and there it wouldn’t be the last.
The following weeks, Riley often appeared on the balcony to soak up the springy sun. Almost just as often, I sat by my window and looked at her. Sometimes, on particularly warm days, she would take off her top and let the sunrays reach all the way to her bra. Later in the year, when such days became more frequent, she would wear a colorful bikini.
It was on one of those days that I took my first photo of her. Riley was lying on a towel she had put all across the balcony floor. Her eyes were closed, as if she was asleep, but every now and then, she looked up to her phone and typed a quick message. As she laid back down again, I grabbed my phone and sat near the blinds. The results were grainy and the light was horrible, but I now had several pictures of an unaware girl, soaking up the sun wearing nothing but running shorts and a bra.
As the weather improved, photo opportunities became more frequent. Nearly every day, early in the afternoon, Riley popped up. More often than not, she was wearing a bikini, either the colorful one or I had seen before or a pale, probably older black one. I had ditched my phone and started using my actual camera, and although the quality was far from perfect due to the blinds and the window I had to shoot through, some of them did in fact show a fair amount of detail. There were photos that showed tiny dots on her bikini top, of which I later found out they were her nipples trying to poke through the fabric; there were photos of her bikini bottoms, stretched around her hips, showing the faint shades of her hidden parts; and, of course, there were the few good shots of her butt, ones I took in front of the blinds, when she leaned into the kitchen to fill up her bottle of water.
The most perfect ones of all were taken another day, when she must have been in a playful mood. I wouldn’t go as far and say she was actually masturbating, but her hand clearly reached down on more than one occasion, tickling the fabric of her shorts for a few seconds, before returning to her normal state. The pictures weren’t good and proved nothing, but if Riley knew what her actions were invoking, she would never have continued.
The next step
I was getting greedy. I had plenty of bikini shots, I could watch her every day, but it wasn’t enough. I knew that angelic face, that perfect body, must have a wicked, evil side. No one that dazzling could live their lives without exploding in lust once in a while, how scarcely that might happen. But it wasn’t going to happen out on the balcony. I needed a new plan.
The new plan involved a tiny camera I bought on a Chinese webshop. I waited patiently for a Friday night, one on which Riley put her suitcase in the small hallway that separated our rooms. I followed her all the way to the train station to make sure she had actually left to spend the weekend in her home town. I woke up very early the next day, too late for Riley to come home if she had only been going out (for which she wouldn’t need a suitcase, of course, but I had to be certain), too early for her to come home if she only spent one night at her parents’. I took the camera to her bathroom, one that was separated from her living room. It had a lock, yet it had never been used, for – as I had overheard – a key for it did not even exist. It was a tidy-ish bathroom, a towel hanging over the shower cabin, a small pile of laundry in a corner. I could still smell the lotion she had used.
The useless lock proved the perfect spot to place the camera. I easily managed to hide it in the tiny hole, the lack of light made it almost entirely invisible. After I had tested the remote switch and the video quality, all succesfully, the long waiting began.
On Sunday night, long after dark, Riley came home. As she entered the bathroom, I turned on the camera. There was a moment of utter happiness when I saw her. The picture was clear, the angle was right, and she did not suspect a thing. I saw how she lowered her pants and sat down on the toilet, I could even hear the sound. It all went too quickly to see anything I had not seen before, but I didn’t have to wait long for that to happen. Riley reached into the shower cabin and turned it on. I watched her get out of her jeans, a black thong vanished in between her buttocks – until she took that off as well, along with her bra and socks. I was now looking at a fully naked girl, in her own bathroom, unaware of the fact that she was being watched.
The following week, I watched every last one of her shower sessions. More and more, I got a good view of her body, from her jump ramp-shaped breasts to her slick, shaven private parts. I couldn’t see much of the actual showering, for the water running over the cabin doors blurred the view. It wasn’t too much of a problem, however, since the undressing beforehand and the picking out new clothes after was plenty of excitement.
The final act
On the Saturday that followed, early in the evening, I was getting ready to go out. It looked like Riley had the same idea, for I heard her enter the bathroom, and when I turned on the hidden camera, I saw her standing there, naked, waiting for the water to get hot. Everything looked as it always had, or at least in the previous week, until she got into the cabin. Riley, strangely, left the door wide open. I watch her put lotion in her hair and on her body. Everything was clearly visible now the doors weren’t covered in splashes of water. I could see her wash off the lotion and stand there for a bit longer. Then, unexpectedly, she took the shower head and sat down on the floor. I realized this was the moment I had been waiting for since the day I met her: Riley wasn’t just taking a shower – she was going to play.
Riley used the shower head to wet her entire body, as her free hand reached between her legs, which she had kicked out of the shower cabin. I had seen the parts of her body I wasn’t supposed to see before, yet this time, they weren’t just another body part, they were the center of attention – both hers and mine. Riley spread her legs wide and aimed the shower head directly between them. She rubbed herself as the water tickled her, occasionally leaving the blast of drops do its thing and squeezing her breasts with her free hand. Up until this point, the water had been the only sound I had heard, but as her arousal rose, slight moans started to leave her mouth. Riley leaned her back against the wall behind her and put her feet onto the small ledge that was supposed to keep the water from flowing out of the cabin. She held the shower head on the floor, firing jet after jet towards her body. Rubbing ferociously, she moved the shower head up and down. The moans were now easily distinguished from the background noise, and I could clearly hear the swear words she was using. Just as I thought I might be able to hear her through the wall, the moaning stopped. Riley was gasping for air, her body seemed to be made out of stone for a short moment. Then, after the tension had been fully built up, she let go. Her body quaked, a hoarse, high-pitched cry filled the air. She pulled her legs together, but kept the shower head aimed at the same spot. As the trembling of her body eased down, she slowly slid her legs out of the cabin once again. Water was still running over her lower body, but it couldn’t reach the hot spot any longer. Riley’s breathing was erratic, it took her a while to pull herself back to reality. When she eventually did, she stood up and turned off the water. As she dried her body, her hand slid between her legs a few more times, as if she was cleaning herself of the last leftover mischievous feelings.
Totally by accident, I ran into Riley in the hallway. Her smile would have easily hidden her wicked habit if I didn’t have proof it actually happened. If only she knew I did. We walked to the front door together, chatting about our plans, but all I could think of was her naked body, trembling in orgasmic pleasure, not even an hour ago.
Up until today, Riley had been the cute girl next door – from now on, she was the naughty minx that would unknowingly show me her deepest secrets.