Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Tony, Rena and Me by Alexander Mort

   Story codes: voyeurism, MFb

   Legal: This story is of an adult sexual nature and isn't suitable for
minors.  If you are under the legal age in your country or province, please
read no further.
This is a true story.  I have changed a few minor points like names and
places for obvious reasons and have also tweaked one or two areas where
perhaps I wish things were a little different.  On the whole though, this

actually happened to me.

   I would love to hear from readers whether you liked or disliked this
story.  I am always open to criticisms as well as praise.  Also, I'm sure
there are a few typos etc in here, as I wrote it in one sitting without
editing.  If you spot any, let me know and I'll fix them. 
/~Alexander_Mort/

   Tony, Rena and Me by Alexander Mort

   Part I: The Creation Of A Lifetime Voyeureur

   I never thought I would be writing this account from my preteen life. 
It wasn't that I didn't intend to write it; I didn't even think of it as a
subject for a story, even though it is emblazoned on my mind and in many
ways a fond and erotic memory.  As a teenager and even into my early to
mid-twenties I still used it as fantasy material during "my time" moments.

   I'll start with a little background on the characters of this exciting
experience, even though I am sure you would prefer that I get onto the meat
of this particular story.  Please bear with me.

   I'd known Tony pretty much since I was born.  He lived at the end of my
road as well, more the corner of the lane at the end.  Of course I wasn't
aware of him as a baby, but I did know him from about five years onwards.
He lived alone in a two bedroom flat, which he'd inherited after his mother
died.  His father died some years before I was born.  His mother had fallen
pregnant rather late in life, which had caused her not a few physical
problems; but for all that she was spritely and very active right up until
she died, cycling into town almost every day for shopping and visiting old
folk.  I remember her fondly as a good woman, compassionate and rather
funny.

   I didn't know Rena very well at all.  She came into Tony's life in his
early thirties when she was in her late thirties or early forties.  I don't
even know how he met her.  She lived with her father, who I met as an adult
and appeared rather creepy (I had heard that he had abused his two
granddaughters, but I have no evidence to support it), her younger brother
(a skinny, unwashed red head lay about) and her two daughters (I don't
remember their names, but they were both much younger than me).  Rena came
from a rough estate on the outskirts of the southern end of the town.  You
know the type of area; council houses where there tends to be a few violent
or criminal families.  I'm not having a go at council estates at all.  It's
simply that a few rotten apples tend to tarnish the barrel and then the
council does tend to put "problem" families in those houses.  I've known
many people from that area who have been upright, good people.

   Growing up I would often see Tony and would even go into his flat to
play.  He was what might be termed "backward" and worked in a factory. 
Actually, he managed his life very well.  He was a good, kind bloke who
most of the kids in our neighborhood knew quite well.  Parents had no
problems with their children playing with him.  This was back in the
seventies, of course and there wasn't today's hysteria about pedophiles,
which the tabloid press is only too happy to stir up to sell papers,
resulting in ignorant people actually burning down a pediatricians office,
like a pedophile would have a brass plaque outside the door!

   As far as I'm aware Tony was a virgin until he hooked up with Rena.  She
was certainly a temptress.  Before he met her he was an open book and a
regular church goer.  He became rather secretive after he met her and was
less likely to be seen in church.

   Back in the spring of 1979 my aunt Jean was rushed into hospital with an
ectopic pregnancy.  She was a widow with four children and no other family.
My parents felt they needed to go and do what they could to look after her
kids until she was well enough to return home.

   Usually, I would've been carted off to my grandmother's in Kent, but she
was on a coach trip to Scotland with a friend at the time.  Tony had been
round our house helping Dad put up a shed in the back garden when the phone
call had come through about Jean, so Mum and Dad asked if Tony would mind
looking after me for a few days.  He had a phone and they could be
contacted easily if there were any problems and he wasn't due back on shift
until the following week. 

   Tony being Tony readily agreed.  I think he liked the idea of being
responsible for a child.  I was twelve at the time.

   So, that was it.  Mum and Dad packed a suitcase and headed off in Dad's
Corsair and I went to stay with Tony.

   One of the things that had always drawn me to Tony's was that he always
had bottles of orangeade and lemonade, as he had weekly deliveries from the
Corona man.  Tony wasn't a drinker.  In many ways he was a child himself.

   The first evening we watched television and he worked on a jigsaw puzzle
of a country house on the table.  He even allowed me to help him, but I
think he would have preferred to do it all himself.  I sat opposite with my
sketch pad and drew Spitfires and silhouettes of other aircraft I made up.
A school friend had gotten me into this particular craze.

   I wasn't able to sleep in the spare room as it was full of boxes he was
storing for a charity sale that was to be part of a fete at our local
church at the weekend.  Mum and Dad had sent along a zed-bed that could be
set up in the living room and a sleeping bag.

   At around 8:30PM there was a knock at the door.  It was Rena.  She'd
cycled over from Saxon Road.  In retrospect I would say that this was an
unexpected visit and that Tony had probably told her not to come and see
him whilst I was staying with him.  He certainly looked a bit non-plussed,
but I don't think he had the confidence to tell her to cycle home again.

   I hadn't met her before.  She was rather on the plain side, with
slightly greasy looking chestnut hair and cheap clothes.  She was friendly
enough and I didn't pay much attention to her appearance.  I did, however
notice her medium-sized breasts pushing against the cheap, thinning
material of her dress.  Her nipples were quite obvious.

   As a twelve year old boy I was beginning to notice with growing interest
the intriguing and rather exciting differences between men and women.  My
friend

   Robert had often shown me his dad's collection of jazz magazines hidden
in the wardrobe in his bedroom.  I was rather fascinated by them and I can
still remember both the attraction and the slight horror at seeing ladies
with their vaginas on display, labia's stretched and held open.  I had
never imagined anything like it.  And then there were the great bushes of
pubic hair.

   Rena sat with Tony on the sofa and I sat on the armchair by the gas fire
watching the Sweeny or some such exciting show.

   I was aware that Rena had cuddled up to Tony and could hear her
whispering in his ear; but I had no idea what she was saying.  To be
honest, I didn't much care.  I was aware that one of her breasts was
pressed against his upper arm as she leant against him and I would sneak a
quick glance every so often.  I wondered what it would feel like and the
thought did excite me.

   The TV programme ended and Rena got up to go and use the toilet.  As she
did she gave Tony a significant look.  Tony suggested we get the zed-bed
out and I get into my pyjamas.  We brought the bed into the room, which had
been standing in the hallway.  I undid the clip on the top and we unfolded
it and laid it out.

   `I'll get your sleeping bag, pillows and a sheet and you get changed,'
he said and left the room.

   I got undressed and was about to pull on my pyjamas trousers when the
door opened and Rena entered.  She apologised, but didn't seem in a hurry
to leave.  I must have been the colour of a beetroot as I hurriedly pulled
them up.  I couldn't help noticing that she seemed to be watching me with
interest.  I hastily pulled on the jacket and stood there not knowing what
to say.

   `You've got the bed out then,' she said.

   `Yes,' I replied.  `Tony's getting the pillows and stuff.

   `Ah right,' she said and moved further into the room.  `I'll give you a
hand putting the sheet over the mattress.'

   `Thanks,' I said, looking anywhere but at her.

   Tony reappeared then and she gave him a smile.  In retrospect, I now
realise it was a knowing smile.  I believe she had planned it that way and
that was most likely what the hushed conversation was about.  He was
carrying two pillows and a pale orange sheet with him.  He put them on the
sofa and went back out to get the sleeping bag and a couple of pillow
cases.

   Rena moved towards me and took hold of the sheet.  `Could you give me a
hand?' she asked.  `You take that side and fold it under the mattress as
best you can.  It'll probably not stay in place as the mattress is quite
thin.  She moved round to help me, standing behind me and leaning over to
help tuck the sheet.  Her breasts pressed against my shoulders and I could
feel the nipples hard through my pyjama jacket and her dress.  She made a
show of carefully pulling at the sheet to get it as tightly in place as
possible.

   My mind was swimming in a sea of sensuous curiosity and pleasure.  Her
arms were around my hips now and her belly was pushing against my buttocks.
She was well aware of the effect she was having on me and loving every
moment of it.

   `What time do you normally go to bed, Alex?' she asked, prolonging the
contact.

   `Around ten o'clock and ten thirty at weekends,' I answered.  I'm sure
my voice must have been somewhat shaky.  Tony reappeared with the pillow
cases and my sleeping bag.  He put the pillow cases over the back of the
chair and emptied the sleeping bag onto the floor.  Rena continued to fit
the sheet with a sly grin on her face.  At one point she manoeuvred back so
that her bottom pressed against my crotch.  She looked at Tony and smiled.
I was mortified that she must have felt my erection and began tucking
pillows into pillow cases to hide my shame.  Tony didn't return her smile.
I think he felt my embarrassment.

   `Do you want a glass of water or anything?' he asked.

   `No thanks.  I'm fine.'

   `Well, if you need anything in the night, you know where we are,' said
Rena in a sing-song voice.

   We finished getting the bed ready and by then my shame had subsided. 
Rena switched off the TV set and took Tony by the hand.  She asked me if I
was all right without the light on.  I told her I'd be fine and she told me
to get into bed and turned the light out and led Tony out of the room. 
Tony was about to close the door behind them, but she told him to leave it
as the light from the hall would be enough for me to see if I needed to use
the toilet in the night.

   That wasn't all: they also left Tony's bedroom door open.  I could hear
their voices and after a few minutes the sound of kissing.  It must have
been exaggerated and it was Rena I could hear, rather than the pair of
them. I could hear her cooing softly to him and then I heard the bed creek
as they got in.

   I lay there on my back imagining her breasts and how they'd felt against
me for a long time and my erection returned.  Rena had been right, the hall
light had been left on and it was enough light for me to see.  I could make
out the furniture.

   Then I heard Rena moan and the bed creek more loudly.  I couldn't
resist. I got up carefully, trying not to let the springs that fixed the
mattress to the frame squeak.  That done successfully, I crept towards the
wall near the door and listened for a few seconds to make sure I hadn't
been heard.

   Once satisfied, I crept to the door and looked carefully around it to
make sure the coast was clear.  Tony's bedroom door was indeed open about a
foot or so.  His bedroom was next to the living room.  I tiptoed the few
feet from the living room doorway to his.  His room was in darkness but for
the dim light that filtered in through the partially opened door.  The door
opened inwards and the bed was behind it.

   I realised I could stand almost in the room without being seen, as they
appeared to be oblivious to anything but each other.  This was not the
case, however, for two reasons; firstly, the hallway light was behind me,
casting a shadow against the left wall and the floor and secondly, Rena had
been listening for any tell-tale signs of movement from me.  I was ignorant
about the casting of my shadow on the floor and wall as I was so intent on
the activity in the bed against the right-hand wall.

   I couldn't see their faces, as the door was between my and them.  In
fact, I didn't really see much apart from Rena's legs wrapped around Tony's
backside and upper thighs.  She became a little more vocal at this point.
In hindsight, she was obviously spurred on by my presence.  She began to
moan and speak to him in rather an odd way, even as I remember it as an
adult: `I've got you now.  You want me and you're mine.'

   I can remember the sensations as if it was yesterday; they are so
strongly imprinted on mu memory.  I had butterflies in my stomach; my hands
were shaking; my breathing was ragged and my mouth felt dry and my saliva
thick.

   I had discovered the joys of masturbation a month or so previously after
seeing Robert's father's magazines.  I hadn't managed to ejaculate yet, but
I had dry-orgasms on many occasions.

   I couldn't help myself.  I was in a situation that was beyond my powers
to resist.  I reached into my pyjama trousers and began to stroke my penis.
It was as hard as I can ever remember it being, I was so aroused.  I
stroked my foreskin over the head and gradually began to increase the pace,
sliding my fist up and down the shaft, using my foreskin as a buffer
against the sensitive, silky skin of my glans.

   At this point there was a sudden movement on the bed.  I managed to step
back quickly and quietly as Rena and Tony shifted positions.  She had
whispered something to him just before this happened.  I don't know if she
was alerting him to my presence or simply expressing her desire for a
change.  They got up from the bed with a little difficulty and Rena pushed
Tony back down onto his back, with his head on the pillows.  Then she
climbed onto the bed herself and lowered herself onto his waiting cock.  I
had a much better view now.  I could see the silhouette of her body,
backlit by the moonlight outside and the half-light from the hallway light
added a little more dimension to her shape.  I could see her breasts and
her large nipples.  Her breasts were slightly saggy and bounced with the
movements of her body.  I could hear Tony's ragged breathing and even the
wet sound of her wet vagina as she rode him.

   I was dizzy with sensual excitement.  All my senses were trained on the
spectacle before me.  Even so, I was still careful enough to remain just
inside the doorway so that my exit was not barred and I could escape
quickly and relatively quietly on my bare feet.

   Her hair was tossed back and I could make out the look of triumph on her
face.  At one point I even imagined that I saw her eyes glint and that she
was looking straight at me.  Was the triumph that she had Tony so much in
her power?  Was it an exhibitionist's excitement at knowing she was being
watched and that the viewer was an impressionable youth who would be
totally turned on by the spectacle?  I imagine that it was both.

   The moaning rose to a crescendo and now I was almost certain she was
looking directly at me.  She head was no longer back but was tilted
forward, looking up through her matted, soaked hair towards me.  If I'd
seen her eyes at that point I think I would've darted there and then, or
perhaps I would've cum.  I think the former was more likely though.

   With a final burst of energy, riding like a cowgirl she dropped forward
onto his chest and they both panted until their breathing returned to
normal.  I was still as hard as a piece of granite and stood for a few
moments longer, hoping against hope that they would continue.  My heart
sank into despair as I heard Tony start to snore.

   I slipped away as quietly as a rather morose mouse, back into the living
room and carefully got back into bed.

   I lay there for about an hour staring at the ceiling and picturing the
dimly lit scene as best I could, my hand gently stroking my penis.  I
wondered what it felt like to be inside Rena.  I wondered if she really
knew she had a voyeur (although that word wasn't even in my vocabulary at
the time) watching excitedly from the doorway.  I wondered what her breasts
felt like pressed naked against my flesh.  The image grew dimmer as I tried
harder and harder to see detail in my mind's-eye.  It was the most
frustrating and erotic few minutes of my entire life and I would say that
even now it still remains one of my most sensually stimulating memories.

   I do know one thing, that experience created a new fetish that is still
with me to this day and most of my fondest erotic memories have it as a
commonality; voyeurism.  I don't mean that I hide in bushes and peep in
people windows.  I do neither of those things.  But I do enjoy watching
when I am invited to or if I happen to see something by accident.  One of
my deepest fantasies is to be at an orgy and absorb the atmosphere, hear
the sounds, take in the scene as I watch all those people engaged in sexual
acts.  I think I'd like to be invisible and watch couples make love,
unaware of my presence, so that they are completely natural with one
another or be able to observe a woman masturbating without being noticed
for that very same reason - no performing, only natural sexuality.  There
is more to this story, as I knew Rena until I was twenty three; but it's
3:14AM and I really should sleep.  Plus my asstr account has only just been
activated and I want to get this and another story uploaded and create a
web page too.

   Thank you for reading this story and please take the time to let me know
what you thought about it.  I am a very approachable man and very easy to
talk to.  Ask anyone who knows me.  Oh, you can't as no one who knows me
know I am Alexander Mort.

   All material Copyright (C) Alexander Mort 2012, all rights reserved.  Do
not use without written consent from the author.