	             ____________________________
                    |                            |
                  /)|     KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF    |(\
                 / )|         DIRECTORIES        |( \
              __(  (|____________________________|)  )__
             ((( \  \ >  /_)              ( \  < /  / )))
             (\\\ \  \_/  /                \  \_/  / ///)
              \          /                  \          /
               \      _/                     \_       /
                /    /                         \     \
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o



Diary of A Voyeur - Full Version (M/F, voyeurism, conc)
by: "J.Reynolds" <cepheus42@hotmail.com>
Date: May 27, 1998

I've finally managed to finish this story which I started so many months
ago.  The birth of our first child certainly has put the brakes on many
of the leisure activities I took for granted before, including story
writing.  :-)  But, he's such a joy, I wouldn't have it any other way.
For those of you who waited for the final sections of this, I apologize,
and hope you like the ending as much as I've enjoyed finishing it up.
Here's the full text, including the parts I originally posted and the
new ending.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Friday, February 27, 1998

6:15 am -- It's still dark outside.  The shades are drawn back, and the
thin, orange light of an outside street lamp illuminates my room.  I
crouch near the window, field glasses in hand, waiting.

Her window is across the way from mine. Still dark, though at any moment
the light from a bedside lamp will flicker own, casting its own pale
light across her room.  Her room, which for the first morning I can see
in.  Maybe she was tired, or maybe simply negligent, but in the evening
last night when she drew her blinds a six-inch gap near the bottom was
left exposed.  And so, here I am.

When the light clicks on, I am ready, my binoculars quickly drawn up to
my eyes.  Time seems to creep by so very slowly as I wait.  Finally, the
moment arrives.  A pair of legs passing by the gap, a fleeting glimpse
of her soft white skin stretching up to the vee between her legs,
covered in white cotton panties, just the faintest trace of the bulge of
her pubis.  And then she has passed from sight.

I realize I have been holding my breath and exhale deeply, gasping in a
fresh puff of air.  My cock is hard, standing straight up in the air as
I lean back against the bed looking down at my naked body.  I idly
stroke the length of it a few times before standing, drawing my own
shades closed, and heading to the bathroom for my morning shower.

6:45 am - The shower was warm, relaxing, cleansing.  I stood under the
hot spray and felt the nerves on every inch of my skin come alive.  The
water running down my body, dripping off my face, off my arms, off my
cock.  I cleaned myself carefully, washing the grime from every hidden
crevice of my body, rinsing away the soap and the dirt.

Next, I lathered up my hands, turning my back to the cleansing spray,
and slowly massaged my cock.  I stroked along the length of it, feeling
its hardness and shape growing under my palms.  I tickled the tips of my
fingers across the tip, drawing a soft moan from myself.  Finally, when
it and I were ready, I gripped it with my soapy hands, slowly stroking
it as I remembered her legs, remembered the shape of the panties as they
clung to her body.  I thought about what it would feel like to peel the
white cotton down her legs and drive my hard cock into her, the warmth
and wetness of her sex wrapped around me like a blanket.  And I came,
turning again so the water washed away the residue of my lust.

I turned off the water, feeling the cold air creep in around the shower
curtain, then padded quietly along the carpeted hall to the bedroom to
dress for the day.  My usual conservative attire, button down shirt and
dockers, dress shoes.  Nothing too flashy, nothing that would make me
stick out in a crowd.  Suitably attired, I am ready for my day.


9:45 -- The morning meeting has finally ended.  Intolerably long, as
usual.  I hate sitting around that oval table, stained with coffee cup
marks, listening to the latest squabbling over who will handle what
account.  I couldn't help but gaze wistfully out the window a few times,
looking at the sunny sky and warm temperatures which have graced us this
week.

If it wasn't for Margaret, I would never have made it through the
meeting.  Skinny little Margaret, she of the long legs and the whining
voice.  Never satisfied with what she has been given to do, always
complaining that she's not respected.  And always with those short mini
skirts, barely enough to cover her crotch.  If it was warmer, she might
not have worn hose as she did today, and I certainly wouldn't have
minded the meeting at all.  As it was, I did manage to drop my pen and
take my time retrieving it, getting a nice long look up her thighs as
she crossed and uncrossed her legs.

Oh, those legs.  How I wanted to slide up under the table and part them,
press my mouth down on the panty hose until my teeth could grip the
fabric, rip them open.  Press my lips against her mound, parting the
pubic hairs with my tongue until I could run it over her own sweet lips
below.  Inhale her scent even as I drew forth from that lovely pussy her
sweet arousal.

Imagine how the old man would have liked that.  Probably would have
fired me on the spot, dismissed the rest of the crew for the morning,
and mounted her on the table himself.  Old bastard never misses out on a
great piece of ass if it's employed for him.  Power is an aphrodisiac,
how else to explain how that pot bellied, balding old prick gets laid so
often and by such sweet looking women.  No way he could respect them as
I do, love them as I have, desire them like me.


11:23 -- Time to start making plans for lunch.  I've cleaned my in-box
out, making sure to leave plenty of time to enjoy myself today.  Now
that I have a half-hour to spare, I'm taking in the view in front of my
office.  My secretary, Lola, in her usual low cut dress, high-legged
hem.  Much more brazen than Margaret, she's not wearing panty hose
today, nor leggings.

I've always thought my secretary was fairly plain, but then I didn't
hire her for her looks.  When she wore that sexy pleated skirt to the
interview, her long dark hair laying on her business jacket (and nothing
on underneath it appeared), I knew she was going to be hired on the
spot.  It didn't matter that her typing was a bit slow, she tried hard,
and she flashed enough body to make up for it.

Now she's just sitting there, typing some letter I gave her.  I
positioned her desk so she is sideways to me, and has to turn towards me
to stand up.  The credenza is nothing more than a top with legs on one
end and attached to the desk at the other, which gives me a straight
view up that pretty little skirt of hers.    Waiting... waiting.  Yes, she
turns, flashing a smile at me as she rises and heads to the rest room.
Blue panties, with the dark wisps of her pubic hair trailing out either
side of her crotch.

I can feel my cock getting hard again, just reliving the image in my
mind.  I think I better take lunch early today.


1:30 -- Lunch.  I so very much love lunch.  The most remarkable thing has
happened to me and work has been the last thing from my mind the past
two hours.

I love the mall at lunchtime.  Especially in the summer, when I have my
choice of short skirts to follow up and down the escalators.  It being
winter, this usually is a poor time for any sort of view.  However, on a
warm day like today, I figured one or two women as brave as my secretary
might afford me a glimpse of something warm and round.  So, I headed for
the food court on the third level.

I ate, pretending to read the newspaper while examining the room for
potential views.  Nothing appeared, and I began to grow despondent,
thinking the walk over was perhaps wasted and I had been too optimistic.

Just as I dumped the remains of my sub into the garbage and placed my
tray on top of the container, she walked past.  Full figured, with her
long black hair pulled back and held by a single dark purple ribbon.
Tight black blouse, just the hint of a bra line holding up her plump
chest.  But, it was the skirt that drew the breath from my lungs.  That
sweet little skirt.  Not just a tight mini or a pleated Catholic
schoolgirl type skirt, which falls down to mid-thigh.  This was a short,
bouncing tennis skirt, the type that flopped free from her ass with
every single step she took.

Of course I followed her.

She headed immediately for the escalator and I was a dozen or so feet
behind her, my eyes unable to peel free from the delightful sway of her
full hips and lovely rear.  I knew I would have a good look as she rode
up the steps ahead of me, but my luck was even better then I expected,
for she walked slowly up as she rode, each lift of a leg pulling the
skirt off her ass entirely.  More than I ever could have expected on a
day like this.  There was no need to even look down at her reflection on
the metal bars running along side the escalator from top to bottom, a
simple glance up was all revealing.

No panties.  Well, at first I thought there were no panties.  As she
reached the top, and strode off the escalator, I realized she was
wearing a tiny black thong, barely enough to cover the pucker of her
anus, and certainly not enough to cover her crotch, for her lips stuck
out on other side of the thin material.

Oh god, was I hard by then.  I reached the top, and followed along
slowly at a distance, not knowing if I would be graced with another
view.  When she entered Waldenbooks, I followed, chasing her form
towards the first row of bookracks.

She stopped in the section marked biographies, and I worked my way into
the aisle across from it, the one with all the local authors and travel
information.  I stole glances in her direction as I picked up something
that I still have no idea what it was about.  She squatted down to reach
for something on the bottom shelf, and for just a moment, as her knees
faced in my direction, her legs were parted enough for me to glimpse the
black thong covering her sex.  Then, she stood, and I counted myself
fortunate enough for a whole month of viewing, heading out from the mall
and heading back to the office.

So now I sit here, my cock resting comfortably in my warm hand, my cum
staining the leg of my pants as I watch my secretary preening, powdering
her nose and flashing me views down her blouse, her ripe chest there for
the plucking, but I am dreaming of a woman with dark hair, and a short
skirt, and tiny panties, smiling lecherously at me as I stroke myself
for her in a book store until my cum stains the volumes on either side
of the aisle.

I think I'll be heading home early this evening.


7:36 pm - I'm sitting here again in my darkened bedroom.  The woman from
across the street came home, giving me a flashing glimpse of her
slightly chubby thighs as she got out of her little blue Toyota just
below my window, but tonight she pulled the shades all the way down.

I didn't even spend any time viewing the ladies on the subway, their
fresh business skirts clashing with the graffiti and grime of the metal
boxcars that shuffle us around each morning and evening.  None of them
seem worthy anymore, though of course I'm sure I must have looked at
some point.  I just don't remember what they looked like.

It doesn't matter.  I can't get my mind of the dark haired woman in the
tennis skirt.  I see her hips swaying every time I close my eyes, and I
envision those succulent breasts, bouncing under a tight black shirt.

My cock is sore from the masturbating I've done today, yet still I am
naked, the long length of my shaft held between my fingers, my hand
moving of its own will up and down, lifting the skin loosely over the
head before sliding the sheath back down tightly towards my balls.  Cum
stains the carpet by the window, still drying, and I feel a fresh load
growing as I reach for the baby oil to lessen the friction and
discomfort.

It's going to be a long weekend.


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 4th 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 other's 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, and 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 videotapes.

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 jerked off under the covers, sleeping in the wet stain of
my climax.


Monday, March 3

9:27 a.m. -- I should have just crawled back into bed.

It’s cloudy out, chilly now.  The warmth of the past week has fled like
all nice weather in the middle of winter does, hiding out until the real
business of spring begins.  Now we are graced with temperatures just
above freezing and a wind swept rain that threatens to do the job of the
street cleaners without so much fuss.

Nothing to look at.  No sweet ladies in skirts or short dresses, no
tight blouses.  Not even a high heel in shouting distance.  Even my
secretary wore a bulky sweater and leggings today.

I’ve paced the office several times today, but the only hope I have is
that she is there, waiting for me in the mall.  Hope beyond hope that
she is wearing something short, something sexy, something revealing.

1:45 p.m. -- Hope springs eternal in the human breast.  Unfortunately,
there hasn’t been a breast in sight all day, and my hope is gone.

The mall was a complete waste of time and effort.  I spent the better
part of an hour and a half passing the corridors, my duffel bag in
hand.  There was little to practice my camera work on, other than one or
two young ladies in medium length skirts.  All were wearing hose of one
kind or another, so I’m doubtful the results will be anything worth
mentioning.

I never saw her, though at one point as I walked past the food court I
thought I glimpsed her walking into the hallway to the restrooms.  I
waited for a while, the smell of warmed over pizza and stale coke
insinuating themselves into my clothing, but if it was her she found
another exit and never passed by me.

I called my secretary from the cell phone, informing her that I wasn’t
feeling well and would be taking the rest of the day off.  Caring woman
that she is, she asked if there was anything she could do for me.  I
thought it would be improper to suggest she wear a short skirt with no
panties to work tomorrow, so I thanked her and said no.

The sound of a car door from the street outside.  Perhaps one of my
neighbors has returned home early from work and will offer me some sort
of view.  More likely just the mailman delivering on his rounds.  Still...
you never know.

3:20 pm -- It was the sight of her black truck across the street that has
kept me from my journals.  I went to the bedroom window when I heard the
car door shut, and there she was.  Standing in the rain on the granite
steps of one of the townhouses across the street.  Her blue parka tugged
by the window, black hair alive in the movement of the air.

She glanced at my house, seeming to look straight at me as I searched
for the name of the people who lived in that house.  George and... and...
George and Bonnie.  An older couple, late 40’s to around 50.  George
bald on top, round shaped, always with a friendly smile and a loud
"hu-llooh" when I passed by.  Bonnie, somewhat slimmer though with that
little belly attractive older women seem to carry off so well, silver
hair always done up on top of her head, blue eyes with a slight twinkle
to them.

The door opened, Bonnie stood there.  Smiling, a warm hug.  She let the
dark haired woman in as I fumbled around the bed for my binoculars, then
swore as I remembered that I had left them in my car.  I didn’t want to
go outside, for fear they would see me and know something was up.  I
thought frantically for a moment, then pulled the ladder down from the
small crawlspace that comprised my third floor.

Underneath some plastic, I dug out the old telescope.  Really an
astronomical model, I had luckily thought to buy a prism that would take
the normally upside down image and turn it right side up.  I dragged it
careful down the narrow stairs, my breath hissing as I bumped it once or
twice against the railing.

I made sure all the lights were out, then opened the upstairs blinds
wide.  The street outside was quite dark for midafternoon, the street
lights actually on.  I placed the scope on its tripod and aimed off
slightly to the right for Bonnie’s home.

I had never once been inside their house, nor had I ever seen what it
looked like through my binoculars, Bonnie being particularly fastidious
at keeping her lace curtains closed whenever they were home.  But, the
front door curtain was either down or tied well aside, as were the
shades to the darkened upstairs bedroom.  I could see clearly to the
back of Bonnie’s house, as though I was standing on the front step and
using the binoculars to look in.  Wonder why I hadn’t thought of this
sooner?

Tastefully decorated, with wall shelves full of knick-knacks and
pictures of children and grandchildren, Bonnie’s house was the
definition of cleanliness.  Both she and the black haired woman were
standing back towards the kitchen, on either side of the little bar that
separated it from the dining room.  The woman had removed her parka,
revealing her to be wearing a mid-length skirt, lose fitting around the
knees, and a tight white blouse.  Bonnie herself was dressed in what
could only be described as a slinky black number, a form fitting dress
that revealed her slightly more generous but still attractive figure.

The seemed to be talking, for a long time.  A half an hour passed, with
Bonnie fixing some coffee, the occasional smile between them.  Still, I
could not tear myself away from the scene, knowing that there must be
more to this, that she was over there because she knew I was here.  It
was the only explanation, and I bought into it with my entire body.

Finally, as they cleaned up the kitchen together, placing the coffee
cups in the sink, my effort was rewarded.  As the woman passed by
Bonnie, Bonnie’s hands reached out, touching her on the waist.  The
woman turned, and in a moment they were hugging again, bodies pressed
tightly to each other.  Their heads turned to meet, and their lips
pressed together, kissing for a long time as their hands slide down and
cupped one another’s ass.

When they broke from the kiss, Bonnie took her by the hand and led her
towards the front door.  The turned left and walked up the stairway and
momentarily out of sight.  I took that moment to strip naked, my cock
already half erect as it lay on my thigh.

When I had settled back into place, my butt on the edge of the bed, the
lights had come on in the upstairs bedroom.  Bonnie was walking towards
the two windows, and had placed one hand upon the shades as though to
draw it down when the woman stepped into view, placing her hand over
Bonnie’s.  I saw their lips move for a moment, the black haired woman
shaking her head, Bonnie’s brows coming up, then shrugging her
shoulders.  The curtains stayed open.

They kissed again, their hands wandering up and down the sides of each
other’s bodies.  The woman slowly played with the hem of Bonnie’s dress,
lifting up along her legs as their hips rocked back and forth together.
Bonnie’s hands slid up, caressing the woman’s breasts through the
blouse, her nipples becoming hard and erect through the thin cotton
material.

Now Bonnie’s dress was sliding up over the round shape of her ass.
Clearly she was naked under her dress, ready for this very encounter,
and for a moment I wonder if George had any clue about all this.  But,
my mind was again distracted when the woman placed one hand on either
side of Bonnie’s rear and began to caress to fleshy globes of her ass,
sliding a knee between her legs and pulling Bonnie onto it.

Bonnie had her head back, almost looking over her shoulder at me, and I
could see her eyes were closed, her hips rocking back and forth across
the woman’s legs.  From behind, I could just see the beginnings of her
pussy lips, a trace of silvery hair surrounding them.  Like the petals
of a flower, they were full and open, glinting with wet moisture that
left a shiny track on the woman’s skirt.

The woman reached down, and pulled Bonnie’s dress slowly up and off her
body.  I caught a view of the edge of Bonnie’s left breast, a very full
shaped dangling mass of lovely skin tipped by a long hard nipple that
was quickly swallowed up by the woman’s mouth.  Bonnie caressed her
hair, looking down and watching as she licked her way back and forth
between her breasts.

Now they danced a sensuous limbo, bodies moving gracefully over the bed,
Bonnie’s naked breasts jiggling in and out of view as they swept around
in a circle.  Bonnie’s hair had come undone, and the long silver tresses
draped across her shoulders as she fumbled for the buttons of the
woman’s blouse, opening it and cupping her breasts with both hands.  The
woman fell back onto the bed, Bonnie following her, her soft ruby lips
pressing into the woman’s neck.

They rolled onto their sides next to each other, Bonnie’s mouth sliding
down over the younger woman’s shoulders, her hands caressing those
lovely breasts, the woman’s dark colored nipples pebbly and hard.
Bonnie pressed her mouth to the tip of one, her tongue darting out to
run around and around it, before her warm inviting lips closed over it,
sucking it into them.  I saw the woman’s back arch, her hips lifting off
the bed as she forced her breast further into Bonnie’s mouth.

Bonnie’s hands stills strayed, exploring this body I craved so dearly,
running down her smooth belly and under the edge of her skirt.  I could
see the outline of her hand as it slid down between the woman’s legs,
which parted wide to admit her fingers.  They traced circles over her
sweet spot, a loving soft stroke that left the woman trembling as
Bonnie’s fingers worked her.

Finally, Bonnie reached over with her other hand, and tugged the skirt
down and off those soft looking thighs.  As with Bonnie, she had been
naked under her clothing, her body ready to accept the delicious
sensations of a lover, whomever that may be.  Her pussy unhindered by a
trace of hair, pale pink lips wet and open, as Bonnie’s hand swept back
into place, stroking slowly over her damp sex.

I watched with hands holding the telescope steady, unable to tear my
fingers free long enough to stroke my stiff shaft, the tip dripping
pre-cum down the length.

It was Bonnie who worked her way downward first.  Bonnie, whose silver
hair dripped over the woman’s stomach like soft velvet.  Bonnie, his
lips found their way to her wetness, her tongue flicking out in darting
motions, running over those lips, the hard nub of clit.

I came.  I never once touched myself, but the unmistakable twitch of my
cock followed by the spurt of white that fall to the carpet was most
certainly an orgasm.  And, then, of all miracles today, I stayed hard.

Distracted for a moment by this event, when I turned back, the woman was
bucking against Bonnie’s face, her lips shaped in a delicate O, eyes
closed.  She was, at that moment, the only woman in the world, and I
loved her as fully as I have ever loved another person.

Finally, her orgasm subsided, and Bonnie lay next to her, stroking her
hair and kissing her neck.  I guess they talked quietly for a while,
then Bonnie nodded and stood up, walking over to the foldout doors of
the closet.

When she returned, she had a piece of black fabric in her hand.  She lay
on her back in the middle of the bed, and the woman tied the cloth over
her eyes.  She touched Bonnie for a short while, stroking her fingers
between those silver pubes before bringing them to her mouth, her tongue
darting out to lick them.  Then, she stood and left the bedroom and my
line of sight.

I kept my eyes glued to the telescope, waiting for her return, waiting
to see what she would bring back with her.  But, when I heard the sound
of the door outside closing, I pulled free and glanced down at the
street.

She was halfway across, running through the rain, wearing just the parka
she had left downstairs which barely covered her crotch.  She ran
straight up to my door below my eyes, and thrust a piece of paper
through the mail slot.  Then, she ran over to the truck, hopped in, and
drove off into the afternoon.

I raced down the stairs in time to see her taillights winking as she
turned off on a side street.  The piece of paper was stuck between the
outer security door and the inner solid wooden door, and though I was
naked I opened the inner door and pulled the paper free.

It read: Go to her.  Don’t dress, just your coat.  Do it now, do what
you know I want you to do.  I will meet you on Friday at the mall for
lunch if you do this for me.

I grabbed my coat, and was still pulling it closed as I raced across the
sidewalk and over the street.  Bonnie and George’s door was unlocked,
and I threw the bolt as I passed through, dropping my coat on the chair
and jogging up the stairs.

The room looked different from this angle, and when I glanced out the
window I was relieved to see that, though my shades were open, you truly
couldn’t see anything beyond the pain of glass.  I had often worried
about that.

Bonnie lay on the bed, blindfolded, her fingers stroking her own body,
rubbing her wetness.  The scent of her filled my nostrils, and my cock
twitched in response, still hard as it had been for so long now.  She
whispered one small sentence... "Take me."

I climbed on top of her, guiding my hardness between her plump thighs,
parting that tangle of silvery pubic hair with the tip of my cock,
thrusting into her.  She came immediately, crying out as she clung to my
body, telling me over and over again how good it felt, how wonderful my
cock felt inside her.

My cum welled up from deep inside, and as I climaxed I did so for her,
and Bonnie was her, her silver hair turning black, her breasts pulling
up more firmly and slightly smaller, her waist narrower.  My lust and
love was for her, and spilled inside her, as I moaned out my feelings
with each cum spewing stroke.

Finally, I pulled myself free from Bonnie’s body.  She whispered
quietly, "Thank you.  Whenever I am home and put on the blindfold, you
may come over and have me."

I kissed her cheek and left, wondering if she actually knew who I was at
all.  Now I was furtive as I darted across the street, my head held low,
hoping no other neighbors were home to see.

And so, there you have it.  And here I am, unsure what is happening,
lost in whatever she has planned for me.  No longer hunting for views
and peeks, but feeling controlled and hunted myself.

10:15 -- George came home to a Bonnie modestly attired, looking healthy
and demure.  But, I noticed she no longer draws the shades all the way
closed.  And, I noticed she took him immediately to the bedroom, lowered
his trousers, and took his short stout looking cock into her mouth,
sucking him until he came on those ruby red lips.  After that, the light
went out, and I know not what else might have happened.

And I.  I sit here naked, cum coating my leg, softly sobbing to myself
in my desire for Her.  I can't stand this, I do not want to see her
again.

And yet... I can’t wait until Friday.


Wednesday, the 5th

11:03 am - I called in sick again today.  I won't be going back to work
this week.  My mind is too distracted, my heart to sick with need to SEE
Her.

Yesterday and today, I have been watching the house across the street.
Bonnie went about her day as she always does, but with the shades wide
open again.  Several times, she has bent over, letting her skirt ride up
her plump legs, showing off her thighs.  Once, she grasped the hem and
lifted it to her waist, sliding her hands down over the naked skin of
her ass, no panties to hinder her fingers, brushing the tips through the
matted and wet pubic hairs between her legs.

I turned away when the phone rang.  The secretary.  Worried about my
illness.  I tried to comfort her and let her know it was all right, but
the concern came through her voice like water through a filter, pure and
clear.  She said she might drop by, but I hardly care if she does.  It
would just be an unnecessary distraction at this point.

Time for an early lunch, I guess.

3:45 pm - Lola did drop by, and now it seems I'm in the market for a new
secretary.

All around the bedroom I had left the various pictures and paraphernalia
of my voyeurism.  Binoculars, cameras, etc.   When the doorbell rang, I
was in my robe fixing myself a drink.  I walked to the front door and
opened it, to see my secretary standing there with a smile.  Not sure
what to do, I invited her in.

"You really shouldn't be out of bed, you look terrible," she said to
me.  How could I tell her it was simply days of masturbating and
fantasizing about a woman I hardly knew?  Lack of sleep coupled with an
unmet sexual need could turn the strongest person into an invalid.

She fixed me some chicken noodle soup, sweet woman that she is.  I had
trouble taking my eyes of her ass, the way it swayed back and forth
across the kitchen under her long skirt.  Then, she guided me up to my
bedroom to serve my meal, and I, in my infinite wisdom, didn't even have
the forethought to object, forgetting the state I had left my room in.

She stopped only a few steps into the bedroom.  Ontop of the dresser
lay, quite openly and visible, pictures of women, and she turned to pick
them up.  As she thumbed through them, I knew I was blushing furious,
and a sinking feeling thrust through my chest like a knife.  I could
tell when she came across the photos I had taken of her from the office,
shots of her thighs, her panties visible.  Pictures down her shirt as
she would bend forward to pick something up.

She put the pictures down, and I thought her hands shook slightly as I
sagged down onto the bed.  "You like looking at me?"  I couldn't tell if
it was a question or simply a statement of disbelief.

"You could have had me anytime you wanted," she was continuing.  "Do you
think I dress like this for just anyone?"  She was holding a picture of
herself in a very short skirt, black panties covering her crotch as she
was turning to stand up.

"Did you ever want me?"  So quiet was her voice, I hardly heard the
question.  She was staring at me, her eyes slightly wet from tears.

"Do you ever want me?"  She grabbed the front of her blouse, ripping it
open, several buttons flying across the room.  She wore no bra beneath
the thin material, and I was surprised how much larger her breasts were
than I expected, dangling down, topped by large, dark nipples.

"Do you want me?"  She yanked her skirt and panties down to the floor,
and reached over to pull my robe open, grabbing my already hard cock
with her hands as she moved to straddle my body.  I felt the tickle of
her dark pubic hair on the head of my shaft, then the warm wetness of
her pussy as it engulfed me, sliding deep into her as she thrust
downwards onto me.

"Do you -- do you.." her voice trailing off as she rode me, cupping her
breasts, riding my cock fast and hard until, her hands falling to
support herself on my chest, she came, screaming out her pleasure as she
rubbed furiously against my pubis, her hips moving back and forth
frantically.  She collapsed onto my body, sobbing gasps of warm air in
my ear as she slowed her motions.

I began to move my own hips, my cock still rigid in her pussy.  Her body
pulled back off mine, and she climbed off, leaving me laying there
covered with her smell, cock standing straight up and coated with the
sweetness of her juices.

"I don't want you," she said, gathering up her clothing.  "I quit."  She
left the room, and a minute later I heard the front door slam shut, a
car start up and drive off down my street.

I turned to watch her tail lights flicker away down the street, and
noticed that Bonnie was staring out her window as well.  Slowly she
turned back into the house, revealing her naked body, hardened nipples
topping her breasts.  She put the blindfold on, and lay down on her bed,
her fingers sliding between her legs to stroke herself.

I put on my pants and shirt, cock uncomfortably hard in my jeans, and
with a lurch in my chest, I went over.


Friday

Noon -  I'm waiting for her in the food court.  I know it's where she
will look for me, it's where I first saw her.  No one else will do, I
realize.  All the other skirts on this beautiful day, and none for me to
enjoy.  Just Her.

I've been fired.  My secretary quit with several invectives to my
supervisor, and he apparently found some photos in my desk.  I hadn't
left any there, so I'm sure she took them when she left the house and
put them in my drawers for him to find.  It doesn't matter.  I don't
blame her at all, I blame myself for not realizing how much she liked
me.  Things might have been different had I known.

But, now all I want is Her.  Her black hair dangling down around my face
as she rides me.  Her body underneath mine, her sighs and moans in my
ear.  No one else matters and no one else will do.

There she is.  Standing near the stores, staring towards me.  Very short
tennis skirt again, tight t-shirt, nipples visible through it.  All the
men staring at her as they walk by, sometimes bumping into each other.
She flashes a smile, and turns to walk away, glancing back over her
shoulder at me.

So I follow.

1:15 - Standing in an alley next to the mall.  She led me all through
the mall, into various stores.  She would keep glancing over her
shoulder at me and smiling, but always speeding up if I got too close.

In Victoria's Secrets, she picked up some lingerie and headed to the
dressing rooms.  I positioned myself near the entrance to the rooms, but
not too close.  She pushed open her door a crack after the saleswoman
left her alone, and I watched her reflection in the mirror as she
undressed, having to do nothing more than pull her shirt up and off, and
tug her skirt down.  Her body lithe, full, ripe.  Smallish nipples on
her firm breasts, jutting out hard.  No pubic hair now, freshly shaven
lips which, with a smile at me in the mirror, she reached between her
legs to part, running a finger between them, then placing it in her
mouth to suck clean.

Another store.  A curtained dressing room, curtain left open wide this
time.  Trying on jeans, not removing her skirt, her back turned as she
hiked it to her waist to lift the jeans up, flashing her ass to everyone
who looked, but to me especially.  The saleswoman bustling over and
informing her she was being peaked at, closing her curtain with a smile
as she winked at me.

Bending over in the bookstore, showing her ass as I stood at the end of
the aisle from her.  Scooting down, parting her legs, and looking me in
the eye as she stroked her wet sex, fingering her naked pussy, her eyes
half closed, gasping softly.

Finally, leading me down an access hall and out into this alley where I
stand watching her right now.

She's bent over a railing, her skirt up around her waist.  Her shirt
removed, breasts dangling down below her black hair.  A man stands
behind her, naked, a long hard cock jutting from between his legs.  He
holds the shaft in his hand, stroking it over her ass, whispering things
to her which I cannot hear.  He pulls back, motioning to me.

2:00 -  They are gone, and I'm sitting in my car watching mothers and
wives come and go from the parking lot.  And I remember her.

I remember walking up behind her, taking my cock from my pants, and
burying it in her wetness from behind.  I remember the way I could feel
her fingers, stroking her clit and brushing against my shaft as I fucked
her, her fingers sending shocks through my cock as her pussy gripped me,
sucking me into her as deeply and tightly as I have ever been blessed.

I remember the man, walking around in front of her, placing his cock in
her mouth.  The muffled gasps of her climax flowing around his stiff
cock as she rode each of us at either end of herself, a flood of moist
juice flowing out around my cock with her orgasm.

I remember the way that her pussy, pulsing down on my cock when she
came, caused me to be forced out, only in my haste and lust to slam back
into her tight ass, punching through the puckered anus that sent a wail
through her lips.  For a moment, I thought she would pull off me, turn
and hit me, but she thrust back hard against my cock, and her muffled
words said, "fuck my ass hard."

I remember that I did.  Perhaps ten deep, hard strokes into that
luscious rear end, before I groaned with my climax, my hot cum filling
her ass, pulling out to let it drip down her leg.  The man had already
cum as well, and I could see her mouth working to swallow his seed, a
few white drips clinging around her lips.

I pulled her upright from behind, preparing to turn her and kiss her and
tell her how much I loved her.  But, she kissed the man, kissed him hard
and passionately, and their whispered words came to my ear, thrusting a
knife into my heart. "I love you, sweetie."  Her words to him.  "I love
you, darling wife."  His words to her.

I think they were turning to talk to me, but I was already stumbling
back into the building, pulling my pants up over my limp, stinking
cock.  Somehow I staggered back through the mall, feeling the eyes upon
me as they saw my disheveled state, smelled the sweat and sex on my
body.

So, I just sit here, smoking cigarettes, watching the women come and
go.  I don't want to go home again.  I have to see them again, see all
the women I have missed this last week.  See their skirts and panties,
see their bras.  See their breasts and pussies and asses.

There, there is a lovely lady.  I watch her get into her car, and catch
the flash of her legs as she turns to get in, maybe just a tease of
panties.  Her full breasts jiggling slightly as she pulls the seat belt
into place.  Are those nipples hard?

I could see them better if I could wipe away the tears.

Copyright 1998, J.Reynolds
