#perv!jonathan

It all started totally by accident. You noticed an unfamiliar man moving into the building next door, a handsome yet odd young blood who came to NYC to achieve some far-fetched artistic dream. Boxes of stuff nearly bursting from his junker of a car, expensive camera draped around his neck for safe keeping. It was too much for you to resist helping him as you watched him struggle from a couple floors above ground. You called down to him, offering your assistance, and he was more than glad to take it.

You helped him haul every last box up the couple flights of stairs, coming to find out his new apartment sits right across the narrow alley from your own. You commented on such, letting him know he could feel free to wave to you in passing if the mood struck. Little did you know, that this innocent enough offer would soon open a rather taboo door, never to be closed again by the look of it. In thanks of your help, the young man formally introduced himself, and ordered some take-out from a Chinese place you recommended.

Jonathan, you soon learned was his name. He was only a couple of years younger than you, still in his very early twenties, taking the one opportunity he had to get out of his wretchedly small hometown. He told you about his family, and you told him about yours. Not much to go on there, as you'd run away at sixteen to escape a couple of drunks you unfortunately called 'Mom' and 'Dad'. Nevertheless, you and Jonathan had a nice, casual talk, promising to look out for one another as neighbors. Neighbors. That's what you were supposed to be. Instead of playing this mildly fucked-up game you can't seem to find a way out of. Not that you're really complaining.

Back to the subject, it all started on a particularly humid night. As is typical for living in the Big Apple, your shitty landlord couldn't be bothered to have proper air conditioning put into his numerous rental properties. So, you had decided to go nearly naked in your apartment to beat the heat. You had a fan going, the window open as wide as it could go, lounging around in a thin t-shirt and skimpy panties.

You were in your room, trying to settle in for the night. But it was just too hot. You'd decided, fuck it, you can't sleep, and you may as well have a reason to be hot and bothered. You pulled open your bedside drawer, retrieving a reliable rabbit to satiate your growing hunger for release. You shoved your panties off, kicking them over the side of the bed. You clicked the toy on, which began buzzing firmly in your hand. You didn't waste any time at all, spreading your legs wide open and bringing the head of the rabbit to your needy clit.

Little did you know, at first, that Jonathan was getting the most perfect, pornographic view of you from across the alley. He'd been laid up in bed, lights off as he struggled to find some way to stay cool. He was completely nude between his thin sheets, and still sweating like a damn pig. He kept tossing and turning, eventually giving up and clicking on the small TV in his room to watch a movie or something. While he flipped mindlessly through the channels, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see what the movement was, and found you splayed out on your bed, touching yourself. He gasped in shock, fumbling with the remote so he didn't drop it loudly on the floor. Your buildings were definitely close enough to where you could hear a decent amount of sound if the windows were left open.

He caught the offending device, tossing it beside him on the bed. The little show you were putting on became far more interesting. Jonathan did briefly battle with himself whether or not it was right to be watching you like this, but his rapidly hardening cock won that argument. He rationalized it to himself, that maybe you wanted him to see you. You always left your curtains open, and waved at him at all hours of the day, whether you were fully dressed, or wrapped in nothing but a towel. He'd deal with the guilt later, he decided. He just couldn't bear to take his eyes off of you. His young, hot neighbor, who was currently lost in pleasure as she fucked herself with a silicone rabbit.

While Jonathan grappled with the potential implications of what spying on you could mean for your neighborly relationship, you continued to work the toy between your legs exactly to your liking. The thick shaft slid in and out of your pussy with ease, arousal spilling from you messily every few strokes. The buzzing 'ears' of the rabbit whirred against your clit, building you up towards an orgasm you realized you desperately needed. You weren't thinking about anyone in particular while doing this, mainly focusing on the sensations you were feeling with your eyes screwed shut.

But something felt off. Like someone was watching you. You peeled your eyes open for a moment, still going to town on yourself. Your eyes drifted around the room, looking for anything potentially lurking in the dark corners. Shadows were cast by the summer moon shining through your window, and your eyes drew past the open pane without much thought. That is, until you saw him. Jonathan, your neighbor, was watching you from the very edge of his own window. You couldn't make out much of him in the dark, but you knew he was there. The faintest outline of his head peered back at you.

Part of you wanted to stop, to stand up and go to the window and shout across the alley about how much of a pervert he was. It would've been the logical thing to do at such an invasion of privacy. But the other part, found it extremely hot that your cute neighbor wanted to see you in this way. You decided to play along, raising your free hand to wiggle your fingers at him like you always did, with a playful smirk plastered on your face.

Jonathan jerked back from the window at first when you waved, his face going red as a beet at getting caught. His heart pounded in his chest, he wondered how he would ever face you again after this. But the look on your face, and how you kept going, made him realize that you weren't grossed out, or offended. He was right, you liked it. He leaned back into view, perhaps a little further to let you know he was there. He waved back, and settled himself on the edge of his bed to watch you even more. His hand found his cock already dripping with need, a low moan escaping his thin lips as he closed his fist around himself.

When Jonathan came back into your line of sight, it was very clear what he was doing. You couldn't quite see below the window sill, but you could tell he was jerking off by the way his arm moved up and down, and how his mouth feel open just slightly. He was getting off on watching you. This only made the fire inside you burn hotter, making you feel as if you were melting into the bed at this point. You began to think of him now. You kept your eyes locked on him as you pounded your pussy with your toy, wishing it was him instead. You wanted Jonathan there, to touch you, kiss you, fuck you until you screamed his name. You wanted to have him there in your bed, sitting is his lap while his slender fingers pumped away inside you. You wanted to take his no-doubt gorgeous cock in your mouth, and suck the utter life out of him while he held you down. You wanted to ride him until your legs gave out, and have him fill you up with his sticky cum.

Jonathan refused to look away as your motions grew needier, your wrist getting a pretty good workout as you shoved the toy in harder, faster, deeper. He envied the thing, wishing he could be there instead. He stroked himself in time with your thrusts, dreaming up very filthy things about you to fill in the gaps. He craved the feeling of your lips on his neck, kissing and sucking all kinds of nasty bruises on his pale flesh. He wished for the opportunity to fuck your face until tears rolled down your cheeks and drool pooled heavily on your chin. He wanted to shove your head deep into your mattress while pounding you from behind, slapping your ass and making you squeal until you came all over his cock.

You could see him getting closer, and felt yourself doing the same. Your helpless moans and cries grew louder as the minutes passed, and you hoped Jonathan was able to hear them. Despite your wrist beginning to get tired in your fervor, you soldiered on. You weren't stopping for anything. You were making an absolute mess of your bed, sweat and juices dripping from you and soaking directly into the sheets. But you didn't care. You needed to cum, and you needed it soon. You kept hold of the idea of Jonathan's cock being the object fucking into you instead of the rabbit, moaning for him again and again when its rubber head hit your g-spot just right.

Jonathan was close, and he could tell you were, too. Fuck, he could hear some of those filthy noises you were making, which only pushed him closer to the edge. He listened and watched as you whined out his name, your thighs trembling as your orgasm was almost taking hold. His own high hit him unexpectedly, and he did his best to stand up to show you as his release spilled from his dick in thick spurts. He groaned loud enough for you to hear, still staring at you as his cum landed on his hand and the floor.

You cried out his name in ecstasy when you saw him lose control, eyes rolling back just after you watched him stand to show you his release. Your body shook as you came seconds after him, more mess spilling out of you and all over the bed. You heard it splash from your pussy, drenching your thighs and the sheets. You turned the toy off as your high ran its course, tossing it off to the side with little care where it would land. Once you caught your breath, you sat up to look across the alley again. You found Jonathan looking back at you, and he gave you another small wave. Awe rested in his eyes, probably from the massive amount of cum that came out of you just seconds before. You waved back at him, a satisfied smile on your face. You cleaned up and fell right asleep shortly after that, and Jonathan did the same.

After that first incident, this kind of thing became rather normal for the two of you. On many nights, either one or both of you will put on a 'show' of some kind. Most times it's just a silly strip tease, removing your clothes nice and slow while the other one watches. Even if it never leads to simultaneous masturbation, it's still highly thrilling for you. Other times, you up the stakes. Sometimes, one of you brings a date home. You bring them to your room, take off all your clothes, and go to town while the other one watches the whole thing.

None of these encounters are something you discuss beforehand. Oddly enough, your sexual adventures seem to only exist between the span of your twin windows, using them like mirrors you gaze into to feed your wildest fantasies. Outside of them, you only give polite greetings or farewells as you go about your lives. It's easier that way, you suppose. Not to mention far more exciting.

During the times when either of you bring a partner home, it's borderline intoxicating. You can't begin to count the number of times you've looked out the window to see Jonathan roughly fisting himself as you're getting absolutely railed. It heightens every sensation to know he's watching you, wishing he was the man to make you scream. Hell, sometimes he even has his camera out, snapping photos of you in every compromising position imaginable. Photos he later develops and slips underneath your door for you, sometimes with suggestive notes, or photos of himself to compliment them.

You, on the other hand, like to play with yourself in bed when Jonathan brings a girl to his place. You copy the positions he puts her in, fucking yourself on the rubber rabbit while he steals greedy glances over at you. You cum at the same time every time he does this, due to him timing his thrusts and speed to what he knows gets you off. And he hasn't even been on the other side of your window to figure that out.

You'd heard about how he took pictures of Nancy Wheeler undressing, or how he'd been arrested for beating up Steve Harrington and then the police found an arsenal in the trunk of his car.

But being Will's babysitter didn't mean being around Jonathan. Because as soon as he was home from work, your job was over. Will didn't need the both of you at home watching him, his brother was plenty, but as of late, he'd been scheduled more at the Hawkins Post and Will ended up home alone for most of the day. That's when you came into the picture.

Now it was three months into being his babysitter, and you were as happy as ever.

One day, he'd gotten the new R.E.M album on cassette and was eager to share it with you, so he dragged you into Jonathan's room where the boombox was and quickly shoved it into the port before sitting on the bed, urging you to follow him.

"Are you sure we should be in here?" You asked cautiously as Feeling Gravity's Pull started playing in the background.

"Yeah!" Will insisted. "He lets me in here all the time. He loves it when I listen to music. It's like-- our thing or whatever."

"Right, but maybe he wouldn't like me in here," you said. It was the first time you'd been in his room, and you couldn't help but feel like you were intruding.

"No, Jonathan likes you, too. He's fine, come on, just listen!" He turned the volume up, effectively ending the conversation with a wide grin on his face. You scoffed, but complied, grabbing the chair from Jonathan's desk and taking a seat. On top of his desk, you noticed photographs of people's profiles.

There was one of Will posing with a Twizzler in his mouth, one of Joyce looking at him behind the camera with a glare on her face, and then there was you. You weren't looking at him in any of them, but there were tens of pictures with just you in them. Other pictures where other people had been obviously cut out.

There was you walking up their driveway. You talking to Will, who had been cut out of the shot. You laughing at something that Joyce had said. You watching TV waiting for one of them to get home. You cooking in their kitchen. You tearing up while opening the gift that Will made you for your birthday.

Your cleavage was visible in every single picture.

Why did he have all of these? How did he have them? Had he been home without you realizing? No, Joyce would've told you. Unless she didn't know either.

Your head was spinning, but you were trying to hide it from Will. He didn't even know what you were seeing. He was too busy closing his eyes and dramatically laying out on his brother's bed while he enjoyed the track.

But the photos you could see were just the ones on his desk. Maybe there were more somewhere else. No. No way.

Somehow, you were able to ignore the pestering in your brain. You continued listening to the album with Will until he fell asleep on Jonathan's bed. In the corner, the alarm clock read 2 a.m., and you sighed, bringing your knees up to your chest on the chair.

So many days had gone by like this-- the Byers working much later than they'd anticipated. You understood, but you also wished some nights that you'd be able to fall asleep in your own bed, instead of in the uncomfortable plastic of Jonathan's chair while the album replayed itself.

"Y/n." A hand shook you awake, and then grabbed your shoulder when you almost fell off of the chair.

"Jesus, thank you," you said to the person who helped you, but as you looked up and rubbed your sleepy eyes, you realized it was Jonathan. Your mind was screaming for you to leave. "Sorry. Sorry, shit. I'll see you tomorrow, Jon."

You had no idea where the nickname came from. It just slipped past your mouth. Will was no longer on his bed. Jonathan's grip stayed on your shoulder, only lighter now.

"You saw the pictures?" He asked quietly, not threatening. Maybe threatened.

"Yeah." Your breath hitched. "I just-- they were right there. I didn't touch them or anything."

"Yeah, it's fine." He let go and dropped onto his bed, defeated. "You don't have to come back tomorrow. I'll take off."

"Why?"

He didn't answer, just groaned and ran his hands over his face. You looked at his lap and saw the tent in his jeans. The sight of it broke your brain into two sides: One that was freaked the fuck out, and one that was entranced by his infatuation with you. That wanted to make it even worse, even more perverted. The illogical side won, and you moved to kneel in front of Jonathan. You grabbed his hands from his face and held them in your own.

"Talk to me. What's going on?" Your voice wasn't comforting or upset, just indifferent. Jonathan couldn't even look you in the eyes. His mouth opened and closed and nothing came out. "You a perv, Byers?" You asked. He shook his head.

"No," he finally spoke, voice rough.

"Then what are you?" You let go of his hands and moved to rest your palms on his thighs, watching him twitch.

"I'm nothing. It's not like that." His legs kept moving under your palms, and you didn't follow him. Not when he moved. But he always came back, shifting himself back under your touch.

"So you don't do anything with the pictures?" You asked, looking him up and down. "You don't want to take a picture right now? You've got the perfect view down my shirt, Jonathan."

He hissed as your hand moved in closer to his bulge, lightly brushing over his inner thigh. His hands grabbed your wrist and you stopped. You looked him in the eye and for the first time he returned the gesture, finally meeting your gaze. He still didn't answer the question.

"If you want to, you better take the picture fast. My knees are hurting," you complained. He kept making eye contact with you, reaching blindly for his bag and pulling out the camera. A smile rose to your lips. "You want me to pretend like I don't see you? Like all the other pictures you've got?"

"Fuck," he whispered, looking up at the ceiling. "Yeah. Do that."

You pretended not to see him, gazing at his lap instead, and pushing his hips down when he bucked them up. The picture snapped and you finally looked up at him, meeting his faltering stare. You pushed yourself off of your knees and lightly shoved his shoulders so that he was flat on his back. You kneeled over his legs bringing your hands to the zipper of his jeans. A sweet moan tumbled from his mouth, and he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Can I take these off?" You asked, pulling at your own shirt and shorts, much to his surprise. He still nodded rapidly, groaning as you pulled your shirt off and handed it to him before getting off of his thigh and laying next to him, completely ignoring his look as you took your shorts off and left them on his bed.

Then, you stood up and walked to the door, locking it securely before making your way back to him. This time, you straddled his waist, hands on his chest as you rolled your hips a few times, making him moan loudly. He reluctantly looked away from you and hit play on his radio, filling the room with the sound of R.E.M to drown out his sinful noises. He reached to grab your waist just as you began moving back to straddle just one of his thighs. An action that made him whine.

"Can I take your jeans off, Jonathan?" You questioned sweetly, hands paused over his tent. He nodded again, but you sat back, breath hitching as your clit brushed up against his thigh just right. You ignored the feeling, eager to continue teasing him. "Use your words."

"Yes. Yes," he pleaded, hand resting on the inside of your thigh while you unzipped his pants slowly, pulling them down his waist and around his ankles before placing them right on top of your shorts on the comforter. He was only in boxers now, and you could see the imprint of his throbbing dick through the gray fabric. There was already a moist spot on them.

"What about your shirt?" You asked, going back to straddle him over his underwear. He moaned loudly, grabbing your hips and rutting himself against you. You moaned, too, gripping the fabric of his shirt and throwing your head forwards. No more questions were being asked. He sat up and let you tug his shirt off of him quickly, then laid back down and continued to drag your hips over his. You wondered if he'd ever had sex before. He was unable to control any noises pouring from his soft lips, not that you minded in the slightest.

You climbed off of him, pulling his boxers off and laying there next to him, face first into the bed. He was breathing heavy next to you, and you watched as his hand wrapped around his dick, pumping himself as he looked at your ass.

"Where'd you put my shirt?" You asked, turning to face him. His eyes immediately trailed down to your chest and he bucked roughly into his hand. You grabbed his wrists lightly, pulling them up to rest on your breasts as you straddled his waist, ass barely brushing against his tip. "My shirt."

He fumbled for your shirt, finding it on the ground next to him before handing it to you quickly. His entire body was writhing under you, needy and too worked up. You put the shirt back into his hands and got off of him, moving instead to sit behind him, pulling him into a seated position where his back was now pressed against your torso, still holding his hand in your shirt, confused.

"Use it. Jerk yourself off." Your hand wrapped around the back of his and slowly lead it down to his cock, gripping it lightly with the fabric of the shirt and jacking off. You removed your hand, letting him continue as you began to press hot kisses down his neck, leaving him desperately moving around in your arms, unable to control himself before he came into his hand quickly. You laughed lightly. It was kind of pathetic, but hell if it didn't turn you on to see him so needy. He threw his head back, slowly rubbing himself up and down with the dirtied shirt and letting you leave hickeys on his shoulder as he came for almost a full minute.

"Shit," he moaned, opening his eyes to look at you. You looked back.

"Was it good?" You asked, running a finger up his side. He shivered against you, pushing the both of you further back into the headboard.

"Yeah. Was really good," he answered breathlessly. You laughed at him again, rubbing your hand over his torso now.

"Do you want to do it to me?" Your eyes got softer, and you watched his mouth fall open.

"Y-yes. But--"

"You can do it. Look at you. Came for a minute and still hard. How about you start with my tits, yeah?" You spoke to him kindly. He nodded. "Words, baby."

"Baby," he stuttered, flustered by the pet name. "I-- yes. Let me fuck your tits, please."

"Do it good. Cum on my face, pretty boy."

"Fuck," he hissed, hips stuttering into the air. You watched more blood rush to his dick with a smile. Jonathan got out of your lap and you took your bra and panties off, handing them to him before laying yourself flat on your back. He held the garments like they were holy, setting them down on the bed with your cum shirt. "How do I do it?"

"Put your hands on the headboard, then straddle my chest and just fuck them like you did to your hand. I'll hold them together for you." You put a hand on his hip as he straddled you, just like you said. His shaky hands reached up to grab his headboard and he turned the volume of the music up as you grabbed his dick, guiding it between your breasts slowly.

"Oh, shit." He started moving himself, head dropping between his hands as he grew harder between you.

"Just like that, good boy, Jonathan," you praised, holding your tits together and watching his face contort with pleasure above you. His thrusts grew faster, pace quickening as he came on your face only a moment later. Holy shit was he gone for you.

You'd never seen a man cum so fast. And to have it twice in one day was unbelievable. Your name came out of his mouth as he grunted and groaned, hips continuing to move back and forth as he rode out his high.

A moment passed where he hovered above you awkwardly before clamoring back down onto the bed next to you. His pupils were blown wide and he was focused on watching your stomach breath in and out slowly. His own breathing was erratic, much faster.

"Are you okay?" You asked him, eyebrows raised. He'd come twice in the past ten minutes. He only nodded in response to your question. A quiet laugh escaped your lips, one that he could barely hear over the music blasting. He reached over you to turn it off, suddenly shy under your gaze.

You rose from the bed, grabbing your bra and panties and putting them back on with your shorts. The shirt you had was far gone, Jonathan's cum smothered all down the side. His face flushed as you picked it up and used it to wipe his cum from your face.

"You missed some," he said bashfully, pointing to the skin beside your mouth. A small smile graced your lips.

"Can you get it for me?" You sat back down on the bed, handing him the shirt and watching him carefully as he used it to smear his cum off of your face. When he was done, he moved to hand the shirt back to you, but you pushed it back to him. "You keep it. Put it to good use, and next time you wanna do this, just ask, pretty boy."

"What about you?" His voice was rough. Erotic. "Did you want to borrow one of my shirts?"

"No. I've got my hoodie on the couch. I'll see you tomorrow."