Ghosting the Girl Next Door, Day 1

The first day is always the hardest… (Part 2of the Series)

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It’s been a week since I last talked to Stephanie, the girl next door. It’s been torture. I guess it isn’t exactly like torture, but it’s more like quitting smoking cold turkey. I’ve had to refrain from talking about her strictly because the mere mention of her makes me want to pick up my phone and open the Hinge app to see if she’s messaged me.

The first day was the worst. Waking up at 7 a.m., the first thing I did was to reach over and grab my phone. Opening the Hinge app, I saw that she had said, “Good Morning!” followed by a couple smiling and heart emojis. I was about to send back a reply when I remembered the vow I took the prior night.

I got a hard on just looking at her profile picture. Her blue green eyes bore into my soul. In the photo, her blonde hair hung around her face while her lips were perfectly pouting.

Before I knew what I was doing, I’d reached underneath the blankets and jerked off to her. My eyes never broke contact with hers. A couple seconds later, my physical need was sated, but my heart wasn’t. Masturbating helped me closing the app though, so that’s something, I guess. Getting out of bed, I could feel the cum settling in my underwear.

You don’t have to say it. I already know I’m disgusting. That’s the whole reason behind why I’m ghosting the girl next door.

The rest of that first day, I was frantically checking the phone to see if she’d messaged me. Of course, she wasn’t because she wasn’t the kind of woman that kept texting you. She sent a message, and she didn’t care if you responded or not. She’s cool like that. Several times during the workday, I thought I heard the phone vibrating, but when I checked there was no notifications.

During my lunch break, I went to the men’s bathroom and jerked off again. This time it was from a picture she had sent me when she was in the shower. We were texting one night, and I had said, “What are you doing?” and she sent back, “I’m in the shower.”

“Prove it,” I sent back. I didn’t know where my courage had been that day, but I’m glad it was in attendance because the next thing I knew she had sent a picture of herself. It was her face and chest completely nude. Of course, the picture stopped right above the nipples, but you could see a gracious amount of breast. Her mouth was set in a deliciously cute smirk.

I made sure to scrub the cum off the toilet bowl before flushing.

At the end of the day, my phone vibrated again, and I saw she’d sent me a message on Hinge. It read, “I hope you’re okay and had a good day. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

My heart ached. I wanted to say something, anything to reassure her that I was alive. Looking through my window, I saw that the lights in her living room were still on. Stephanie, apparently, didn’t believe in blinds because I could see inside her entire house. Weird, I know, but I can’t judge.

She was sitting in her usual seat on the couch, reading a book. I wasn’t sure what the book was, but I knew it wasn’t anything Stephen King. She hated horror books and movies.

Watching her for a few minutes, I felt my cock stir. Look, I wish I could tell you guys that I didn’t reach down and jerk off to the girl next door. I really wish I could. I couldn’t help it though. She was sitting so her slender and bare legs were stretched out along the couch. Her feet wore white anklet socks. It was over at that point.

Spent, I looked down at the mess I’d made on the wall. The light blue wall was splattered with sticky white cum. It was like a perverted Rorschach painting. All I saw was shame and hatred for myself.

After I cleaned the wall, I took one last look at Stephanie before retiring for the night.

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