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voyeur Tips

Welcome to our "smut" library. Here you will find various information articles and exciting stories dedicated to voyeurism. We welcome erotic fiction from our visitors. Notice that we add points to authors for every story we publish.

Fantasies Discovered? (05 July 2010)

It was a Saturday night and we had been working hard all week and were ready to go out and play. We planned to go out to the Green Bar and then on to the jazz bar for dinner. We showered and I suggested that we shave your pussy as I like to be able to see your fat lips and pretty pussy lips. You were quite happy and were giggling as you lay back on the bed enjoying the feeling as I knelt between your thighs and you parted your legs to allow me to stare at your spread pussy lips.

Carefully I wipe you with a hot towel and apply oil rubbing it in carefully to your pussy I see a flush start to creep up your neck as you begin to enjoy the sensation. Quickly I shave you leaving a narrow strip of hair pointing towards your now wet cunt. I wipe you dry and then start to gently kiss your pussy sliding my tongue through your wet folds and then gently licking your erect clit until you start to arch your back and gently grind your hips against my face. I reach up and grasp your full fat tits and squeeze your stiff nipples you writhe harder and harder and then spasms rack your body as you call out in orgasm. I lick the flood of pussy juice that this produces and roll you over to gently tongue your asshole – an indication of things to come.

Tonight is a “fun night” and you have agreed to do my bidding I chose some clothes for you a tight pair of black pants meaning knickers are out of the question. I put your stick it adhesive bras on leaving your nipples visible through the cut out area they look very sexy and I cant resist feeling and pulling your nipples again rapidly getting them into their usual aroused and pointy state . I then hand you a new Karen Millen top that is largely see thru and ask you to put it on you refuse but after a bit of persuasion you agree but at the last minute put pasties over the nipples and quickly put a jacket on over the top.

Fairy Tale Path (03 July 2010)

Melinda was a single mum whose life had been average — at least, as she defined average — until she met her new partner, Shane. Everyone around her had typical relationships where the man does his thing, the woman does hers, and the only interaction is part of daily routine. Shane brought a passion and excitement to her life; he wanted to share in every part of her life. She had never had a lover so intense.

Shane was an intellectual who had a high-pressure job with a lot of responsibility, who had just left his children and average relationship behind — for what he hoped was his soul mate. Melinda gave him a great deal of affection and intelligent conversation, had a classy confidence, and wanted him to be involved in every part of her life.

After a hot day of sitting in front of the rotating fan, at least four showers, a lot of bare shiny skin, and the twelfth ice block of the day; Shane suggested that they go to the beach at Secret Spot. She didn't have a clue what he was talking about, so he explained it was a place he and his surfing mates used to go to and have the whole section of the beach to themselves. A little excited — and a bit uneasy about going to some foreign place — but totally trusting of her love, she agreed to go.

On the drive there, they had all the windows down, and both had their arms hanging outside the car, as if to catch every bit of the cooler afternoon breeze. They pulled off the side of the road, and when Melinda looked out, it appeared to be just a huge amount of mangrove-like trees, with a small sand clearing close by. They locked the car and walked to the clearing, feeling the sand under their feet. Shane picked up a stick, telling Melinda it was for spider webs, and then they walked into the trees on a small path, arched over by branches just above their head.

Eyewitness Testimony (01 July 2010)

The master of ceremonies, what an officious and odious term for this piss-ant lecture series, introduced me and stepped back as the audience politely applauded. I stood up from the folding chair, praying I wouldn't have to sit in it again when I finished my speech, and walked to the podium. It was wide, wooden lectern, the kind you used to see presidents and world leaders clutching during speeches. I resisted the urge to grip the edges and say, "My fellow Americans...," but only because I was supposed to be a grown-up today.

I placed my notes on the podium, adjusted the microphone and said, "Thank you, Captain Henderson." The mic didn't send a shriek of feedback through the speakers, and I was a little disappointed. If you can't count on the clichés, what can you count on? I made sure my notes were all present and in order, cleared my throat and said, "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I would promise to keep it short, but considering this lecture hall is air-conditioned, you might appreciate a bit of dragging-on."

There were so polite laughs, and I cleared my throat. When I looked up again, my eyes were drawn to movement in the third row. It was all I could do not to react, to shift my attention to the next row back so I wouldn't stare. Even though I wasn't looking at her anymore, the flash image of her face was burned in front of me. Elizabeth, her dark hair done up in a prim and proper bun, sitting there with a pad and a pencil like a student, despite all the actual students being in uniform.

"Today, I'm going to talk about the unreliability of eyewitness testimony."

Faking Being Drunk (29 June 2010)

Hi I've always been an exhibitionist and have come up with many way to allow myself to show off. I was married young and at 22 my wife Sue and I lived in a the 2nd floor apartment of a home. The out side door led into a hallway and to the stairs that let to our apartment. My wife and I both were working back then, she worked during the day and I was working a midnight shift at a local factory. Because of my late hours I normally went to bed as soon as I got home in the morning and did not see Sue until she was home from work later in the day.

I had just gotten home and my wife called and told me her girl friend Lyn was stopping by to pick up something that morning and that she would call before coming over. I had always been hot for her girl friend Lyn and my mind worked on a plan to expose my self to her!

Lyn called about 8:00 and told me she'd be there around 9:30. Also that she'd have her younger sister with her. Her sister Sally was only 18 but also very hot and wild for her age!

I told her because I wanted to get some sleep and the door bell did not work I'd have the outside door unlocked and to just come up. She would have to wake me when she got here and I'd get the stuff for her. I was already hard thinking about showing her and her sister my stuff! I also mentioned to her I was having a beer or two to relax from the night's work and I'd see her later.

I actually was having a beer but also got a few empties out of the trash and set them on the night stand beside the bed. I spread out on the bed testing how I'd position myself, how the sheet would drape down off my body. When she finally would get there it would look like I was in a deep sleep, tired from a hard night's work and from the beers.

The next hour and a half dragged out as I waited for her to arrive. I was watching from the window and when I saw her car pull up my heart was racing and my cock was already growing hard. I quickly moved to the bed and positioned my naked body. The sheet crumpled over my mid thigh, my cock fully exposed. Laying there faking my best sleep imitation. I heard them coming up the stairs and Lyn calling out my name, "Bill!"

Fairview Motel (27 June 2010)

I'm a cop. Now that the wussies and voy-curious have left the room, I must be speaking with just the hard-core peepers. Let me explain. First of all, I'm not one of those cops in blue wearing shades who handed you an invoice for $200 because his laser gun said you were 3 over the limit. Also, get that image of a cop in a flak jacket labeled SWAT out of your mind. I've never kicked in a door and hosed down a room full of hoods with my Uzi. I do my best work in a suit and all the people I catch wear suits as well. My most dangerous weapon is a sharp pencil. The Commercial Crimes Unit of the RCMP calls me a forensic accountant.

Don't think of me as an auditor with a badge. Auditors are clean-living anal-retentives who think that multiplication is "higher math". They're great for finding mistakes in somebody's expense account but they're as naïve as George W. Bush when it comes to discovering criminal flaws in the market mechanism. You probably enjoyed the work forensic accountants like me did in unraveling scams like ENRON or finding the financial links between Mohammed Atta and Osama bin Laden. When I find the money, I put it all back in the pockets of the people who were scammed. It's almost like a cop giving you $20 for not jaywalking. Even though I'm an accountant, I go to work in an accountant's suit and women think I look like an accountant, I have all the same powers to arrest a perp as the uniforms do. So, just keep quiet and no names please while I'm telling my story.

Fairlight Beach UK (25 June 2010)

Fairlight naturist beach is just East of Hastings, it is an official naturist/nudist beach but as practically all such beaches are, it is well off the beaten track.

We leave home for the one hour journey travelling through Rye and Fairlight Village in my car. We turn off the road and go down a track to the car park, in a field which is part of a farm and tea rooms at the head of Fairlight Glen. Chris paid the £1 parking fee and we drove into the top corner of the field to park in order to try to find some shade to keep the car cool.

After we park, I open the boot and lean in to get some of our things out. I am very conscious that bending over the boot makes my tiny mini skirt ride right up over my bum completely exposing it and the prominent lips, of my pussy. You see I never wear undies, what is more I always keep my pussy completely free of hair so when I am naked it is never hidden. All that I am wearing is a very short, flared, tennis skirt that just covers my bum by about an inch when I stand upright but when I lean forward or bend it rides up showing that under it I am not wearing any panties, not even a tiny "G" string, and totally exposes my naked and hairless sex lips. My only other item of clothing is simply a very baggy singlet type vest with neck and armholes stretched to the extent that my nipples are only just covered by the straps and the naked swell of my bare breasts and cleavage can be clearly seen. If I move quickly then my erect nipples pop out completely.

Eyes at the Window (23 June 2010)

Some of you know how it is to be freshly married, still exploring and discovering what excites and what doesn't in each other.

My pretty little wife Sharon was a bit of a prude. She always wore longer skirts, sweaters that came all the way up to her neck, things like that.

The funny part was I discovered she not only never wore panties, she didn't even own any of them.

I delighted in teasing her about that. She would blush bright red and stick her tongue out at me, not upset at all but pretending to be when I would make some outrageous comment with friends around.

I went with her once when she was looking for a new bathing suit, she tried on every one piece thing in the store, all of them were awful.

Finally she was down to the two piece suits, no way in hell would she come out to let me see them like she would in the one piece types.

After all, there were other people around, some of them obviously bored husbands wishing they were home watching the football game.

So she would call out, I would go peek in the door of the changing room, then she would try on another one.

I was getting looked at quite a bit by the other shoppers, they probably thought I was a pervert. I was wishing I was home watching the football game, too.

Eye Spy (21 June 2010)

It was a great day!

The sun was shining and the temperature was just right for a barbeque and a dip in the pool. We had planned this party for weeks as a way saying thank you to all the neighbors and friends who had helped us move into our new house. We had invited a ton of people figuring that only half would show since it was mid summer....Boy, were we surprised! No only did every one show up but they even brought guests of their own to meet us. I didn't mind but was I glad I had bought enough for just such a contingency.

The party started around noon and by 4:30 I was really tired playing the ever-present host and chef. Luckily, one of the neighbors saw the signs of fatigue. He just walked over, handed me a cold beer and said, "You look beat. Go get lost for a while, I'll take over."

Ever grateful for the relief, I looked around for a place to park myself and enjoy the beer, but alas, there were people and bodies all over the place. I started for the house, but when I saw the number of people going in and out of there, I just knew it wouldn't be any better there. Just then I had a thought....

Our new house was an expansive one, with a lot of property because of the zoning in the area. It was also built on the edge of forest land which was part of the town's reservoir system. That was one of the reason's we bought the place: the fact that no one would build behind us...ever. I decided that I would take my beer and stroll into the woods a little bit, find a nice shady spot and enjoy the weather and time away from my host/chef duties.

I only walked about 50 yards in before I came upon this great rocky ledge with an overhang surrounded by a cluster of small trees. It was perfect! I was protected from the sun by the overhang and I could see a small stream running through the meadow in the distance, just in front of the trees. The only sounds were the slight breeze moving the trees, the birds and the running water...total peace.

Holding the Purse (19 June 2010)

For years, I was one of those guys who complained about going shopping with their girl. After all, when a woman asks her man to go shopping with her, what she usually is asking for is a designated purse and bag holder who will spare all valuable and relevant opinions. That's what "let's go shopping," had always meant to me; until, I met you.

The first day we went shopping together, you were waiting for me, sitting on an old bench in the park. You had not been waiting long, although you seemed a bit annoyed. I couldn't understand why. I had gotten there on time, you knew I would walk from my office to the park, so if I was late, which I was not, there was no reason for you to have been upset. "Hi," I said, as I took the seat next to you. The day had been cool, and you did not have on your old black leather jacket.

"Hi," you answered back with a faint smile.

As I think back, you had a strange look in your eyes, as if you were up to something, but your body language, your dry greeting, they threw me off. I just thought you were cold, so I asked, stupidly, "Are you cold?"

The shirt you wore was low cut, and your arms were bare. The skirt hugging your waist and thighs was short, too short, I thought, but I had nothing to complain about. I've always loved your strong legs, your tight body, the way you cross your legs when you wait for someone, me in particular.

"I'm not cold, but come on, let's go, we don't have much time."

"Time for what?"

Hitchhiker (17 June 2010)

A buddy and I were cruising in my old convertible (top up) in a huge state park for the first time looking for the Frisbee golf course. With plenty of cold beer but no herb, we were a bit out of sorts, as Frisbee and ganja go together like bacon and eggs.

I'm driving on this deserted stretch of two-lane highway when we passed this chick slowly ambling along by herself, thumb barely out—a passive hitchhiker. She was real good-looking with a pretty though spaced-out face, long straight brown hair, slim legs and butt in tight jeans, and big, pendulous boobs, bra-less beneath a worn-thin Molly Hatchett tee-shirt. Molly Hatchett was a hard-rock band very popular at the time.

"Very fuckable," my buddy Ames said.

This was one of the few occasions in my entire life that I was not particularly horny, having just fucked my new girlfriend all that morning and most of the previous night. So, for him, I made a U-turn and drove back to her, telling him to let me do the talking, as he had a habit of screwing up.

"Got a joint or two or three?" I asked her. Her face immediately went from somber to happy. I took that for a "yes," so Ames got out to let her in.

She paused, "Y'all aren't cops are you?"

"When's the last time you saw cops drinking beer cruising chicks in an old drop-top Buick?" I responded.

Grinning from ear to ear, she slid over into the middle of the front bench seat between us, pulled out a bag and some papers, and said, "All right, let's party! I'm Dixie!"

Hired Help (15 June 2010)

The kids were at my parents for the weekend and my wax appointment was running late, as usual. I sat on the lounge and was flicking through one of the magazines on the coffee table. A couple of younger women, probably early thirties, I'd say, some ten years younger than myself, walked into the reception area and were advised that they'd have to wait as all of the beauticians were running a little late today.

I really hadn't taken that much notice of them except it was clear that the dark haired girl was more blatantly sexual in the way that she dressed and held herself, the other, probably a bottle blonde was more reserved and seemed to be nervous. They sat on a two-seater lounge and the blonde said in a whispering voice to the other that "she couldn't believe that she was going through with this". Her friend said that "she'd love the feeling of a hair free pussy". Now that statement got my attention, and I could relate to what she was saying. My mind drifted to the first time I had a brazillian.

Chris had been away on his motorbike for the weekend with a few of his biker friends and I thought I'd surprise him when he got home. I'd dressed in my quarter cup bra and a nice top, a skirt and had put on a really skimpy see through G-string. I was feeling horny and couldn't wait for him to come home. I remembered how wet I was and couldn't help putting my hand up my skirt as I sat and watched television waiting for him. Feeling how smooth I was, the touch of my fingers was almost electrifying. Then I heard his bike pull into the garage. When he came inside I poured him a red wine and he sat beside me and told me about his weekend with 'the boys'.

High Notes (13 June 2010)

She'd called earlier to invite him to meet with her. Tonight. He'd been surprised to hear the message when he returned home from work. Surprised she'd called at all. It was unusual that she wanted to meet, particularly on a weekend, as she was always busy, too busy, at this time of year. The tourist season was a gift for her but a gift that wore heavy as chains when she pulled herself through his door on the nights when she couldn't make it all the way to her apartment.

"I'll have my nights cut back as soon as Jack finds someone to stand in. I'm not exactly easy to replace, though," she grinned, barely opening her eyes. "Oh, tonight there was a couple from Texas celebrating their anniversary. It was incredible. Thirty years and he still grabbed her ass on the dance floor."

As soon as she'd convinced herself, stoking her own fire until the sparks showed in her eyes, he dropped the issue. Every time. Honestly, regretfully, he was getting tired of the game. But tonight, he thought, she'd decided to give in.

"I'd like you to come to The Shoe tonight at eleven. There's a table reserved in the Cave."

From the street The Shoe, as it was nicknamed, looked completely unassuming. The patio was like the hundred others throughout the city and concealed the size of the building behind it. The patrons sat in their plastic chairs sipping the same Long Islands or Coronas. She did have one tell to be caught by the more imaginative passer-by. That sign. Her name, her current name that is, had been given in a sudden moment at a garage sale when Jack had found her, dormant neon, leaning against a table leg surrounded by boxes of patent leather heels like his mother had worn to go dancing. The Easterly Shoe Shop. Not everyone saw the whimsy in naming a bistro after a shoe shop but those who did always went in.

He went in, more than half an hour early for their date. Enough time, he hoped, to order a round of drinks for the two of them before she went on her break. If he was there she always found him on her break. One way or another.

Her "Assignment" (11 June 2010)

I was raised in a home where sex was not spoken about & sexuality was looked down and frowned upon, I was never rebellious, and I was without doubt controlled both in thought & action; if I were to somehow manage to break a rule, I was punished. I believe my upbringing is why I have a deep desire to be disciplined, controlled and am a semi- exhibitionist. As an adult, I have found someone who's managed to turn the control and discipline into something sexual, something I crave & once a month he gives me an "assignment."

This month, my "assignment" took place in the middle of the night out in the backyard. The neighbors homes are not one on top of another, we live in the South, we have a decent distance between homes, there is an old dirt road a couple of hundred feet from the backyard, people drive down it day & night, there is also a highway you can easily see from the backdoor; so even with it being the middle of the night, someone could very well see me,

My task he told me was to get up at 3:15 a.m. go into the backyard wearing only a bathrobe & ankle restraints. In the pocket of my robe I was to have my nipple clamps with chain. I had to bring a lawn chair over to the fence, place the chair in front of me while I stood with my back against the fence. Next I was to bind my ankles to the fence, open my robe, and bend over the chair to let my tits hang on the back of the chair all the while rubbing my fingers in circles around the nipples. By this point my breasts are aching, I'm not allowed to continue playing, because he told me I must stand up straight & SLOWLY run my hands through my hair, along my face & neck stopping just above my tits. Run my fingernails down my sides, over my stomach, rub my hips with my fingertips, bend at the waist & continue down my ass, the outside of my thighs, the back of my knees, my calves & then back up again until I got to my outer thighs, move my hands to rub my inner thighs & the outside lips of my pussy, only the outside, up my stomach, my sides, cup and squeeze my tits, tweak & roll my nipples between my thumb & finger over & over until my nipples were hard nubs, then pinch my nipples until I wanted to moan [and I wanted to moan], stop and begin the next part of my endeavor.

Going Dancing (09 June 2010)

The line outside the club was insane. People packed the sidewalk so tightly Connie could barely breathe. She now understood the cliché "crammed in like sardines".

The people in the crowd shifted impatiently, waiting for the doors to open. The club was new, and had been promoted as the best dance club in the city. The owners had snagged one of the hottest local bands for their opening night, as well as a DJ they'd hired away from the previous "best club in the city". From the size of the crowd, everyone in this part of the state wanted to see if the new club could live up to its hype.

In the two hours that she'd been standing there, Connie had been bumped or jostled many times. It was impossible to avoid with this many people standing around. So when she felt something touch her leg, she thought nothing of it at first. Until the something moved up her leg and under the hem of her mid-thigh-length skirt.

She tried to turn to see who was touching her. "Shh," a deep male voice said. "Let me. You're fucking hot, and it'll be a good way to pass the time."

He couldn't mean... Connie was unable to finish the thought as the man's hand made its way between her legs. Her bare pussy moistened, and with no panties, she had no way to hide it from the man. "You're turned on by this, aren't you," he said into her ear.

"Yes," Connie admitted.

"So am I." He pushed her skirt up to her hips. "When I bend you forward, don't resist it. I won't let you fall."

Get Sauced at Wings! (07 June 2010)

Kalasandra slowed her big boat of a car as she approached the sign and neon lights indicating she had reach her destination. Wings Bar and Restaurant was just ahead on her right-hand side. She took a deep breath and put on her turn signal.

Ed said to be there at 10:30 P.M., she was about 10 minutes early so she pulled around to the rear of the parking lot. Parking near the lone light pole, but not so close that she sat in the spot light or that there where many other cars near hers. She needed these few minutes to herself before going in.

She turned on the interior lights so she could give her hair and makeup one last critical look. After touching up her eyeliner she decided that she looked the part he wished her to look for this special occasion. She had dressed in a hunter green suede skirt with a matching blazer, thigh high tan colored suede boots and matching purse completed the outfit. She guessed she looked the part for this country western bar.

Kalasandra turned off the interior light of the car to make the final adjustments to her "outfit," additions he wanted her to make right before entering. Unbuttoning the top couple of buttons on her blazer allowed it to open up enough for her lush breasts to swell forth.

Girls Rule (05 June 2010)

Growing up, all my friends and I were always saying 'Girls rule boy's drool' but I don't think I actually believed it until after I was eighteen and in college. I always knew boys wanted to get a look up your dress but I guess what I didn't understand was how much a boy would do for the privilege of peeking.

It all started in Chem Lab with my partner Larry. Now Larry was one of those science nerds and he was smart so I was glad to pair with him. I was asking him a question on an exercise I was struggling with and as I bent over to show him, he just stopped talking in mid sentence. I looked up to find out why and caught him looking down my blouse. As soon as he realized he was caught his face turned beet red right before my eyes. I thought this funny and jokingly I said,

"Why Larry, you big pervert why do you think you can ogle my breasts any time you want?"

"Gina, I'm so sorry, I just, I just couldn't help myself they just look so beautiful..."

'They're called breasts Larry; do you think you can give my breasts the proper respect and use the correct term when you talk about them?"

I couldn't believe it but his face got even redder and I noticed a tingling deep in my belly as I realized I enjoyed embarrassing him. I kept my gaze steady looking him right in the eyes, although I was having a tough time not laughing.

"Gina please don't be mad at me," he begged, "Look, just let me do that problem for you."

He took my paper ready to do my work for me but now that I had him at my advantage, I wasn't ready to let him off the hook that easy.

"Sure, that's fine for this paper but what about tonight's assignment?"

"How about I swing by your dorm this evening and help you with it?"

I liked where this was going so I ordered him to be there by seven-thirty.

Felony Watch (03 June 2010)

When I woke up on Saturday morning my bed was empty. My husband had to work -- on his own birthday! I agree, it is totally unfair, but he had to install the new lighting system and one-way mirrors in the dressing rooms at 'The G String', a bikini store he manages in Venice Beach. In order to ensure the dressing rooms would be monitored properly tiny lights will be activated each time the dressing room doors are opened; my husband, so clever.

It seems there is a new style that is quite popular this season and, unfortunately, the girls are stealing them. He intends on hiring some women to man the mirrors in the near future, but today he is going to do it himself: says it is to make certain everything works as advertised ... yeah right. No really, I don't mind him looking at some hotties from the beach, he is the "looky no touchy" sort of husband, so just one day of peeping isn't going to get me too concerned; and besides, it will work out great for my birthday surprise. I'm going to be his personal, 'lil hotty'.

It is going to be quite a big surprise because it is something I've never done before -- even though he has always wanted me to, and I've made up my mind that I'm ready. I'm going to put on a "show" for him -- in the dressing room. I'm hoping he gets so turned on that he quickly leaves his watch, and joins me in the semipublic area. One of my fantasies has always been to please him in a public place, safely behind a curtain, no one the wiser, is my idea of private. I'm kind of boring, sexually speaking.

I pulled out the bag from Victoria's Secret and looked at my surprise clothing. Then, after I showered, put on the slutty outfit. I have to admit, when I saw myself all tarted out in the sexy lingerie, complete with stockings and garters, I felt that oh so familiar twinge in my tummy. Oh yes, this was going to be a hot surprise. Before I left the house I also put on the newly purchased for the occasion, 6 inch, spike, fuck-me whore heels, and wrapped myself in my London Fog raincoat. Luckily, our garage is accessible from the kitchen, so none of our neighbors saw my unusual outfit, me in stuffy raincoat when the sun was baking everything in its path.

Favorite Toy (01 June 2010)

"Honey, what are you doing?" I ask my husband who is always at his computer. I really shouldn't be mad at him as I am just as bad, always chatting with handsome strangers, but I find that it makes our sex so much more fun as I imagine one of my many chat buddies fucking me hard sometimes.

"Hey, babe, can you come here for a sec?" he asks.

I walk into his office and look at him. He still has his eyes on the monitor. "Honey?" I ask, "What is it?"

He looks at me with some guilt. He clears his throat then takes a deep breath before continuing. "Remember when I took those pictures of you with my digital camera?" He asks.

"Um... Yeah. Why?" I respond.

"Well, I posted a couple on this site." The words rush out and he looks like he is ready to bolt out the door.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I ask, anger instantly taking control of me. "You, you posted naked pictures of me on a web site?" I stammer.

"Wait, baby, let me explain," he responds. "Remember when we talked and you thought that you didn't look as good as you think you should? I told you that you were the hottest woman I know but you didn't believe me."

Fear of Falling (30 May 2010)

The grey early morning light steals across her sleeping limbs. She stirs, stretches slowly and feels the soft lightness of the duvet shift against her naked form.

She kicks it back and lets the cool air caress her skin. She smiles as she remembers her lover and the pleasures they shared last time they were together. She can still smell his delicious scent on her hair and her hands.

She touches her breasts as she remembers his hands doing the same. She gently squeezes her nipples, one with each hand, then with a slight groan rolls onto her side as one hand slides down between her legs. Her fingers find the little bump already slick with readiness. She wishes he was there to feel it too. She wishes she had time to relieve the tension which is growing within her.

But the day has begun and she must get ready for work. Reluctantly she rises and chooses her clothes. She is expected to look neat and respectable for work so she chooses a pair of grey trousers, a grey cashmere sweater and a matching grey paisley silk scarf.

From the underwear drawer she selects a lacy black bra and a matching g-string. No one will know that beneath her sensible clothes she is wearing these. The bra goes on first. It gently cups her breasts but is too sheer to completely hide her nipples which are awake to the cool air of the room. She puts on the g-string, and gently parts the cheeks of her buttocks so that it presses snugly against her most sensitive parts. The feeling it invokes is almost overwhelmingly sensual.

She goes into the bathroom to put on her make-up and brushes her hair. She appraises herself in the mirror. The slight flush of colour in her cheeks is the only hint that she is aroused.

She continues dressing in her work clothes, steps into her shoes, grabs her bag and leaves.

Fantasy Fulfilled (28 May 2010)

It had been a long drive. He'd been on the road all week. He'd spent every night sleeping in his car at rest stops along the highway. Tonight was going to be different. Tonight, he was going to use a crow bar, pry open his wallet, and spend the money it took to get a hotel room.

It was getting late. His eyelids were getting heavy. 'OK,' he thought, 'it's time to find a place to bed down for the night.'

He found a hotel a little further down the road. He got all checked in at the reception desk, got his key, and boarded the lobby elevator on the way to his room.

As the elevator doors closed, he looked at the key chain attached to his room key. 4D. He pushed the button for the fourth floor, and he was on his way. The elevator stopped as it reached the fourth floor, he stepped off, and made his way down the hall to his room.

Reading off the room numbers to himself as he made his way down the hall, he knew the bed he'd paid for the night was only four doors away. He passed the first two doors with no thought, but when he reached the third, his attention was slapped, shaken and stirred.

He heard a voice. A woman's voice. Was she crying? Maybe someone was hurting her. Maybe he should bust in and make sure she was safe and alright. No, wait...What if she was just sad and crying? Him busting in like Superman, with a chip on his shoulder sure wouldn't help her situation.

Then he heard some actual words being spoken. "Oh yesssssss, right there!" He knew that tone in which she spoke, and, boy was he glad he didn't kick the door down like Elliot Ness and his Untouchables raiding one of Al Capone's speakeasies.

Someone in there was enjoying herself. He leaned closer to the door to hear better. As long as he'd been on the road, it's been even longer since he'd heard someone he was with say those words, and in that tone of voice.

Fair Exchange (26 May 2010)

As is the case with most boys (and as far as I can guess most girls), my first sexual experience was a solo one, i.e. masturbation. From the very first time I held my cock for anything other than to pee I was hooked on the sheer delight of orgasm, the building pressure in the brain (and in the balls) leading up to the cataclysmic release is a feeling I have never lost the desire for.

One way I have discovered to increase the pleasure is to masturbate surreptitiously in public. Typically I would go to a pub or club wearing a baggy pair of jeans that have had the front pockets strategically cut allowing me to carefully wank with my hand innocently seeming to be in my pocket. For obvious reasons masturbation in public like this has to be carried out with much greater discretion than if you are alone in the bedroom, bathroom or wherever. Instead of a full on cock-wrestling session, it has to be small, discreet movements that would barely show beneath baggy jeans. Typically I would just use two fingers and a thumb around the glans rubbing to and fro over the ridge. Last week I went to one of my favourite pubs that often has lots of gorgeous girls to act as suitable fantasies for my hobby.

I had selected one group of hot looking girls to serve as the centerpoint of my fantasy and I was imagining the one with long black hair to be lying back in her chair fingering her pussy. Picturing this scene I was happily wanking my cock under the cover of the table when I got a nasty shock. A woman I had not particularly noticed at a table just behind me had come up to the table I was sitting at and she said,

"Don't worry, I won't tell, but I do want to watch"...

My hand froze on my cock, which immediately began to shrink in alarm. She just smiled at me and said,

"No, honestly, don't stop, what you are doing really turns me on. Look."

Extra Towel (24 May 2010)

I heard the knocks at the door to my hotel room. But they only served to rouse me from the deep sleep I had been in just moments before. I still was not fully awake or aware of my surroundings. Several short moments passed before I was able to comprehend the fact that after the knocks, my door had opened and closed and I could now hear shuffling in the living room/kitchen area of my single room. Slowly my consciousness returned to me, but I was still not awake enough to move. I did however figure out that room service had just walked in and was changing the small garbage can next to my sink. I was also now becoming aware that, due to the cold weather outside, the heat in the room was up on full, leaving me sleeping completely nude and without a sheet or blanket within reachable range. And being first thing in the morning, my erection was full and not going anywhere any time soon.

The layout of my room was like this. As you walk in the door from the hallway you walk into the living room/kitchen area. To the immediate left is the TV on the same wall as the door and a couch following the wall on the left. On the right wall was a closet first, then a sink and microwave (the kitchen) and just past the sink and microwave was the door to the bathroom. The back wall was simply a window. So, as you turn right to walk into the bathroom there is another door straight across from you leading to the bedroom. The bed I was laying on was just through that door and slightly to the right with my feet facing the door and my head the opposite wall. So, I knew I had until room service was through the bathroom before they would see me laying there.

Just as this thought crossed my mind I heard shuffling in the bathroom and then footsteps coming towards me on the bathroom tile. Without enough time to cover myself up I simply laid still and pretended to be asleep. I heard the footsteps stop suddenly and then a sharp gasp of surprise. My awkward sleeping arrangements had been discovered. I dared not move out of sheer embarrassment. But, after what seemed like forever, probably actually just 10 seconds or so, I realized that I didn't hear the footsteps retreating in the direction they had came. I was being stared at! For the first instant I felt violated and slightly repulsed. Until I remembered the gorgeous thing that had been cleaning my room for the last week.

Exploring the New Me (22 May 2010)

After the twins' birthday dinner, and more to the point after the effect Wendy and a bottle or three of wine had on me, I was in a state of shock for a week or so. From a shy, demure (honest!) young woman who had never so much as accidentally flashed a guy, I was suddenly thinking all sorts of strange things.

Whenever I looked into Dave's eyes and saw that he was thinking about that wild night, I would start to tremble with excitement. Whenever I thought about his brother's eyes on me as Wendy and I got more and more daring, the trembling was worse.

I spent those days trying so very hard to make sense of what I was feeling, what had changed within me. And even when I did finally work out what was going on, I then had to get myself to believe it...

Quite simply, it was the daring of the act itself -- doing something so wild and liberating... and best of all, it was the thought of me doing it. When my husband's brother had seen me like that, and when my own husband had got so turned on by his brother's eyes all over me... it kinda blew my mind. It set a wild part of me free that had been chained up my entire lifetime. And the pleasure I got out of it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before.

But after managing to be that honest with myself, what on earth was I supposed to do next? Part of me just knew I had to experience something like that again -- but the old, shy part of me just didn't have a clue what I was going to do about it.

I was so confused that I thought I was going slightly mad -- until Dave finally had enough of my sudden silences and little spells when I lost myself in thought. One night he sat me down and talked and talked and talked until I finally admitted what was on my mind.

Exhibitionist Adventure (20 May 2010)

Over the last several weeks we hadn't had a lot of private time together and decided we needed a night away to let loose and enjoy each other. Our little getaways always tend to get very hot and sex-charged and we normally push the envelope of sensibility for two mature adults (we are both in our 40's). Ever since the B&B incident when we left behind one pissed off entrepreneur and a neighbor that won't soon forget our visit we try to make sure one of us isn't too far gone to keep us in line.

We wanted to spend a night in the city and after reviewing several hotels we decided on a nice chain hotel in the heart of downtown that had all the amenities we were looking for. A nice restaurant and lounge where I (and the rest of the patrons) could enjoy the sight of my gorgeous wife in the new sexy, skimpy outfits I purchased for her. The hotel also had an executive lounge where we could enjoy some drinks and hors d'oeuvres in the evening and an adult only swimming pool that was open until midnight. A nice opportunity to test out the new thong bikini we purchased for our upcoming vacation!

During the car ride I pulled out some of our erotic stories about exhibitionism, voyeurism and fingering by strangers for her to read. Some she read to herself and some she read aloud. While silently reading I could notice out of the corner of my eye slight movement of her legs and barely audible sounds of appreciation...."mmm"! She was now dripping wet and horny as hell from reading the stories where she was, in her mind, transported into the body of the patient whose sponge bath led to her being fingered to an orgasm and the lady who exposed her shaved pussy to the saleslady who expertly treated her to another mind blowing orgasm from a stranger.

In the stop and go traffic on the highway just outside the city she pulled her jeans and panties down to just above her knees, grabbed the finger vibe from her purse and began to slide vibe over her clit and plunge it into her wet pussy. At this point I had my jeans undone and she was stroking my hard cock up to the point where she brought herself to her own orgasm. Time to calm down as we're entering the city!

Do You Remember? (18 May 2010)

The club was packed that night, dancers swarmed the small floor, drinks were being spilled as bodies collided and the floor was sticky with alcohol, mixers, juices and who knows what else. The music was loud and thumping, the bass pounding through people close enough to the speakers to feel the vibrations, deep in their chests.

I slipped through the crowds as best as I could, trying to avoid being stepped on, my short frame often causing me problems as people just didn't see me. Having already been in the club for the last few hours there was enough alcohol coursing through my blood stream to make me slightly more carefree than I would usually be.

Reaching the center of the dance floor, I glanced around at the people surrounding me, subconsciously comparing myself to them. I was surrounded by an abundance of tall, blonde haired, model perfect girls, tight skirts, tiny tops, you must know the type. Compared to them I thought no one would notice little old me, short, brunette, brown eyed and far from perfect.

You obviously disagreed with my own analysis though, perhaps you are attracted to shorter women, perhaps you prefer brunettes to blondes. Or perhaps I won you over with my smile, the way my eyes light up when I'm happy, and how I just didn't care, I was just having a good time.

Dancing to the heavy bass music I was almost in my own world, oblivious to everyone around me, I just wanted to dance, wanted to forget the nightmare week I had been having. Fifty two hours at work, and with mum being away I'd had to take care of my younger siblings for a few days, dragging them to work with me as it was the school holidays. And work was a drag, too many customers and not enough staff to take care of them, just like every year. One day my manager will learn.

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