Howling Moon

Author's Notes: I really enjoyed the last chapter, but the more I get to thinking about it, the more it seems like Amelia is turning out a little Mary-Sue, which is one of my biggest fears when it comes to writing with original characters. Granted, it wouldn't matter to Jake, considering that the concept of imprinting can make using a Mary-Sue an easy thing for an untalented/unoriginal writer... But, I'm going to do my best to make this seem like she's not Mary-Sue. Christ, I'm ranting, aren't I? I'm just terrified that my fic will be placed amongst those Mary-Sue/Gary-Stu fics that everyone hates. /shudder

RESPONSE TO REVIEWS

Reaper07: Thanks for the second review! I'm glad with how the last chapter turned out, and I was going for something tense but WAFF at the same time. Here's to hoping that the next time Jake tries to kiss Amelia, that it actually works this time... Because even I don't know how this will all end!

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The dreams that plagued my sleep in the early morning hours had me dashing to the bathroom. I whizzed own the hallway, slamming the bathroom door behind myself as I tried my very best to conceal the painful erection in my flannel pajamas. I braced myself with one hand on the wall above the toilet and immediately started work on relieving myself in hopes that it was just a bad case of morning wood. But, even if it was, I was greeted by a sight that would've turned even the smallest case of morning wood into a raging, full-blown hard-on.

The way that my house is situated compared to the Clearwater's probably wasn't the brightest plan that the contractors had come up with; my room was right next door to the bathroom that Billy and I shared, and all of the windows that faced the outside of the house gave us clear view of the Clearwater's place. The Clearwater's house was built the exact same way, so that the bathroom and bedroom windows all faced each other.

The only difference is the positioning of our toilets and showers.

From where I sat, throbbing manhood in hand, I could see directly into the Clearwater's bathroom. Amelia obviously didn't think that anyone would be looking, and I could see her peeling off her nightclothes. I thought my jaw would hit the floor at the convenience of it all; I would never have to stick to pure fabrications in order to get my morning wank out of the way-- Amelia provided all the fuel to that fire as she bent over the bathtub, her glorious backside in full view of my perverted gaze. I could tell, from where I stood, that she was checking the temperature of the water.

Oh, Christ... I must have done something right to be treated like this... Or have done something totally wrong; this is just as much what I've wished for as it is pure torture!

I could hear Amelia humming to herself and realized at that moment that her bathroom window was open, just like mine. I slowly stroked the twitching erection in my hand and I watched the girl of my dreams step into the hot water of her bath. I watched in avid fascination as she bathed, still stroking my erection; she was beautiful, and I felt as though I would die by watching her do the most mundane of tasks. Amelia shaved, an action I felt was both intimate and flawlessly graceful as she held one perfect leg aloft and dragged the little pink razor down its foamed surface. I could only imagine how silky and smooth they might feel beneath my hands and I grimaced at the sudden jolt I felt inside of my testicles.

When Amelia was finished bathing, I felt a little sorry as I expected her to get out, get dressed, and leave my view. But, I was surprised to find that she leaned back in the tub, one of her hands disappearing beneath the bubbly water. I swallowed in anticipation of what my soul's sister was going to do, and I was not disappointed.

My sensitive ears picked up the sound of a soft, mousy moan that drifted on the breeze between our houses.

Oh, Christ! She's... She's...!

I couldn't even finish the sentence in my own head and my manhood jerked wildly in my palm. Amelia was masturbating, just as I was, and I could not help but wonder if she thought of me as she did it, just as I was thinking of her.

My mouth hung open as I watched her arm move up and down in the water as she fingered herself, and I continued to stroke my manhood, trying to time it with her own strokes. My hand against the wall clenched, threatening to rip the wallpaper when she lifted her other hand to stroke her breast. I could feel the sweat breaking out on my forehead as this continued for the next ten minutes. The cold breeze that drifted between our windows carried the scent of her bathwater to my nose, and it was sweet and soft. I was right about that raspberry and cream smell, but it was now mingled with a slight hint of arousal.

I stifled a moan, biting down hard on my bottom lip and I could taste the bitterness of blood at the force; it took every ounce of willpower I had to stay rooted to my spot and keep quiet as I watched Amelia touch herself in time with my strokes. Her eyes closed and she let out a moan of her own, and when I heard the name that spilled from her lips, so soft and timid and filled with desire, I felt my manhood give one last spasm and spilled my seed into the palm of my hand.

"Oh... Jacob.... Ah...."

Amelia had softly moaned my name.... She had been thinking about me as she pleasured herself, and I felt my knees go weak, but used my last ounce of strength to keep from collapsing at the mountainous climax that overflowed in my palm. I continued to stroke in time with Amelia, my manhood staying stiff and painfully erect even after my climax. I was sweating bullets at this point, and the quiet squelching sound my hand made over my throbbing erection only made the moment feel more raw, more base and animalistic than anything I had ever felt; I vaguely wondered if this would feel the same as actually taking Amelia's body for myself, and vowed that I would know the feeling before the week was out.

For another ten minutes, this continued, and just as I was on the verge of getting a sore set of testicles from holding out on my second climax, Amelia called my name again. I could see her back arching, the water in her tub sloshing loudly with the action. Her head tilted back, mouth agape and eyes closed as she climaxed. I could see her body shuddering and hear her quietly moaning my name from where I stood.

That was it.

I lost it again as my second climax burned its way down the shaft of my manhood and spilled into my palm for the second time in almost a half-hour. I was spent, and I looked down at myself when I finally got the nerve to tear my eyes away from Amelia's private moment. I instantly felt like a crook... A sick peeping-tom as I watched my withering, abused manhood in the palm of my sticky, goo-filled hand. The wall I had braced myself against was wrecked; the wallpaper was ripped and the wood had splintered into the exact shape of my hand-- I would have to come up with a good excuse to give to Billy if he ever asked.

I pushed away from the wall, my face and torso covered in sweat and my seed was dripping from my hand. I felt guilty... Terrible for having looked in on Amelia's private moment, but I still felt my stomach doing excited flips at the knowledge that Amelia had been masturbating to thoughts of me. I cleaned up and showered as quickly as I could before getting dressed for the day. I was going to take Amelia to lunch and try to make it up to her for peeping in on her secret moment, even if she didn't know it. I also vowed to get that first kiss from her that day, as well; I was going to make this work, and it would be so much easier now that I knew she thought of me in the same way. In a sense, I was glad that I had imprinted on Amelia-- finally the scales of love were tipping in my favor, and I could not have been happier.