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Back in the late 1950's when I was eighteen, I was in the living room of my house, masturbating to the latest Playboy. My parents weren't expected for hours. My jeans, underwear and tee shirt were on the floor. I was completely naked.

It had been a few days since I'd masturbated. When I came, I shot a huge load in the air. It may sound like an exaggeration, but that first load must have gone a foot in the air. Remember, I was eighteen.

Just as I finished, I heard taping on the window. I was caught. Quickly, I covered myself, took a glance at the window and noticed our neighbor, Mrs. Phelan looking at me. She had a big smile on her face. It was obvious she'd been watching me. I ran upstairs to my room; my heart pounding.

The door bell rang, but I refused to answer it.

I wasn't sure how I'd avoid Mrs. Phelan. As I said, she was our next door neighbor, and our houses were very close together. Besides, my mother and Mrs. Phelan were good friends; often having coffee together in our kitchen once or twice a week. Would she tell my mother what she saw?

The truth was I couldn't avoid her.

...

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