It had been several weeks since I had been lucky enough to witness 18-year-old Danny Macmillan's spanking at the hands of his father and I was convinced it was just that, a stroke of good luck. After the incident things remained the much the same, Danny would rise early and go for a run. He'd arrive home at 6:00 A.M. strip down to one of an assortment of skimpy bikini briefs that he owned and work out in front of the window with the curtains open, and his large ass popping out from under the leg bands.

I had been watching this hot teen for some time now and knew that after his workout he would shuck his briefs, lie back in bed totally nude, and jack off. He'd then shower and start the day. He'd also strip down and jack off each night right before going to bed. This was his routine, seven days a week, without fail.

It struck me as funny; I didn't really know this kid at all. I spoke to him maybe five times since he'd moved in but never anything more than a quick "Hello". Yet in some ways I knew him intimately. I had witnessed a very private moment between him and his father when Danny got spanked. Then, of course, watching him jack off twice a day--and all of this he did in front of an open window. It was as if he viewed it as a fourth wall rather than an opening into his private world. Since he had moved in, the curtains hadn't been closed.

Another thing that was odd about Danny was the fact that he was never dressed. Oh, sure when I saw him on the street or in the courtyard he was, but, even if I saw him come in through the courtyard and go in the back door, by the time he appeared again a few moments later in his bedroom window, he was already in his underwear or in the process of undressing. I remember being a teen and living at home and occasionally running around in my underwear, but only boxers. This kid’s underwear was so scant it almost wasn't there. And that monster ass of his always seemed to be swallowing up the back, so his firm young buttocks were almost always visible.

I know it's just my dirty mind, because I have never witnessed anything that you would call ‘inappropriate’ happen between Danny and his father, Tim, but I couldn't help wonder what Tim Macmillan thought seeing his son barely dressed all the time. Tim's curtains were never opened so I often wondered if he too ran around the apartment the same way Danny did in some skimpy briefs. But then I decided against it since every time Tim stopped by Danny's room he was dressed. Like I said, I'm sure it's all just my dirty mind coming up with wild incestuous fantasies. And I was sure I'd never witness another spanking of this bubble butted young man.

Then one evening my luck changed. I was writing and peeking in on Danny occasionally. He was sitting at his desk in a pair of black cotton bikini briefs typing on the computer. My guess was a school paper. Then, like the last time, his bedroom door flew open and in walked his father yelling with a slip of paper in his hand. I made a snap decision. Not only did I want to see this, but also I wanted to hear what had