Message-ID: <6777eli$9803101659@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: "J. Reynolds" <cepheus42@hotmail.com> Subject: Diary of a Voyeur, Part II - (M/F, voy, mast) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: cepheus42@hotmail.com Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <3502F748.91E@hotmail.com> Thanks to those of you who have made such kind comments. As with all my stories, it tends to write itself as I post each part, so I hope you enjoy where it's going and how it ends up as much as I enjoy letting the story take me there. There will be at least one more part to this story, possibly two. Comments are always welcome, just feel free to email me. ------------------ Saturday, March 1, 1998 9:27 a.m. - One hot cup of coffee, two cigarettes. No shades open in any of the houses across the street, though all have some lights on. It’s dark out, cloudy, and the rain is falling in sheets, wind swept across a road empty of traffic. A perfect day for staying in and watching TV. Instead, I put on my rain slicker, gathered up some items from around the house, and made a dash for my car parked at the curb in front of the house. A drive around for an hour, the wipers thumping a tempo on my windshield, radio blaring some old tunes about new love, old love, lost love. Into neutral, then park, engine off, and here I am. The seven floor parking garage is dwarfed by the 25 story hotel complex next door. Even so, I park on the sixth floor, high enough to look into the windows of all the floors from the 3rd until about the 10th (and all the floors if a person were to stand next to their window), and underneath the roof of the final level so I need not run the wipers to see. I pull the binoculars from their waterproof case, and scan the windows. Shades drawn. Shades drawn. Open shades but no lights on. Shades drawn. Shades open and a light. Focusing on that room for a moment. A gentleman walks across the floor. Middle aged, wearing a dress shirt and slacks, tie loosened around his neck. Slightly balding, but of average looks. He walks to the door and opens it, allowing the admittance of a very lovely, plump younger woman. Before the door has even shut all the way they are in each others arms, lips meeting in a passionate kiss. He reaches behind her and places the chain across the door, his other arm still wrapped around her waist as they kiss. Finally, they break their embrace, he taking her hand and guiding her deeper into the room. She is smiling almost shyly, and her cheeks show a blush, the warmth of blood staining her pale skin a rosy color. Her dark red hair falls in natural curls down below mid-shoulder, and I almost imagine her eyes to be green, the vibrant green of late summer leaves, rich and earthy. But, not even my field glasses can show me that much detail, and I chalk it up to my over stimulated imagination. He sits on the bed, his lips moving as he talks to her, my wish being that I could hear as well as see them. I reach into the back seat of the car and pull my camera into the front, snapping on the 100mm telephoto lens. When I’ve refocused on their room, it is just in time. As I begin to shoot, she stands very close to him, his knees just brushing against her legs, and she begins to undress. Slowly she undoes each button of her white blouse, revealing the support of a lacy green bra beneath, the gentle roundness of her tummy, all pale skin and smooth curves, finally pulling the material out from her dark colored knee length skirt and easing it off her shoulders. He is nodding at her while looking down at her waist, and her fingers reach to the side of her skirt, finding the zipper and slowly tugging it down. She bends at the waist, her large, bra confined breasts dangling just in front of his lips. I wonder how he can resist such a tempting target, but he waits patiently as she slips the skirt all the way off and steps free from it. Her panties are tiny, a lacy material of a green color that matches her bra. The man is rubbing his cock through his pants, even as I am with my free hand, at the sight of her barely covered body. Now she reaches behind her back, unsnapping the bra, easing it slowly off, her hands wrapping around to the front to hold the material in place over her swaying breasts. She turns, dropping the bra on the floor beside the rest of the clothing, looking back over her shoulders with a provocative smile at him as she covers up with her hands, then turns around. The hands slowly slide free, her fingers closing to pinch her nipples for a moment, making them hard as her breasts are finally revealed. Nice breasts, with large pale aureoles, the tips of her nipples pebbly and erect. She turns again, fingers sliding down her waist, gripping the edge of her panties, the material peeling down her legs, just the crotch staying in place, until it too breaks free of her body and her ass is exposed to him, though I can only see the sides of her hips and thighs. She turns with the panties in her hand, and holds them up to his face. He takes them, eyes closing as he inhales deeply of her scent. Then he tosses them aside and opens his eyes to admire her beauty. They switch places, and while he begins to undress I place my camera aside and strip off my clothing. When I am naked, I get the binoculars again, holding them with one hand as I slowly stroke my cock with the other. He is naked now, standing right up to the bed, his average sized cock hard as she leans forward with her hands, taking it between both of them and licking the tip of it with her tongue. Her hair cascades around her face, hiding the view slightly, but I can see her head bobbing back and forth on his shaft, and I stroke myself in time to her display. I doesn’t take him long, nor do I think I would last with that beauty’s mouth on me. She pulls back her head, still stroking him and I see the jets of white from his cock shooting out to stain her face and fall on her breasts, her left hand releasing him while her right hand continues stroking, to rub it into her soft flesh, lift her fingers to her mouth and lick them clean. My own cum rises through the shaft of my cock, my balls contracting up against my body as I heave forth my lust onto my steering wheel, the white semen coating the black vinyl, dripping off it onto my waist. I take a small sample in my hand and lick it, tasting the saltiness of my own cum, wishing that her mouth was sampling me instead. The view has changed, and they have slid up onto the bed, and almost entirely out of sight at this point. I can see up to their knees, enough to know she is on her back, and he lying next to her. I am frustrated by this turn of events, wishing to see more of this luscious woman at work, but as I start the car to move a few spots further down in the hopes that I will see more at a different angle, I finally notice the other woman. Her truck is just a few spots away, but I see her face clearly. I see the way she is squeezing her breast through her thin cotton blouse, and the hard point her nipples present through the material. I see her mouth open, tongue licking over her lips, her eyes half closed. I see the shock coursing through her body, her back arching, her long black hair flying as she turns her head back and forth, her other hand not visible but I think I know where it is. I wonder if she’s wearing a thong this time, and if she’s taken it off or pulled it aside. When her eyes open, she puts the truck in gear and with a squeal of tires she drives away. Long before I can clean up and dress she is gone, her truck not visible on the streets nearby as I wind my way down the garage ramps. Near the entry to the garage I see something hanging from the little machine that spits out tickets. I drive up and pull it off, smiling as I leave. The whole drive home I keep her panty under my nose, inhaling the lustful smell of her sex. Sunday, March 2, 1998 2:30 p.m. - I have prepared for tomorrow. I pulled the old duffel bag down from the attic, and filled it with junk and paraphernalia from the years spent at the health club. Work out clothing, dumbbells, running shoes. Near one end I placed the camcorder. I levered it into position, lens upwards, with a careful arrangement of various items, then strapped it all into place using twine connected to some of the inside metal rings. With the zipper open two inches, the lens could not be seen, but a clear image was produced on regular video tapes. I attach the long shoulder strap, so that the bag rests almost at the level of my knees. Next, I check out the Snappy video capture card attached to my computer. Several still frames of the ceiling in my room later, I determine the setup to be adequate, and now I will see what came from my photography practice yesterday. 9:20 p.m. - I’ve finished developing the film from yesterday. The shots came out quite clearly, at least the early part of the strip tease. The last few were a bit blurry, probably from my shaky hands as I stroked myself through my pants. God, what a hot looking woman. But, though she is sexy and attractive, a fertility goddess revealing her image to be loved and worshipped, I wish so very much it had been me in that room, and the black haired woman coming in to strip for me, to tease me and tempt me and take me on the hotel bed. How well I can see her, with her hair tossing back and forth as she climaxes while riding my body, back arched, nipples hard as I pull and tweak them. I add the pictures to the big pile in my shoe box in the closet, then head for bed. Tomorrow will be a long day, and hopefully an interesting day. I want to be well rested for what may come. But, in a last minute decision out of respect and desire for my black haired lover to be, I sleep nude, as I will when I sleep with her. And I quietly jerk off under the covers, so I may sleep in the dampness of my climax, imagining it's the wet stain from her dripping pussy on my sheets. (c) 1998, J.Reynolds -- "The church says the earth is flat. But I know it's round for I have seen it's shadow on the moon and I have more faith in a shadow then the church" - Magellan -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |