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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.

My Forest Nymph (24 October 2010)

"Let me take your picture."

She blanches in horror at the suggestion. "Oh, God, no. I look awful. I'm a sweaty mess. We just hiked seven miles to get here."

I laugh. "You look amazing. You've never looked better. Trust me."

Playful swat. "Shut up. You've never seen me before today, doofus!"

I laugh. "I know. But seriously, you look amazing. You feel amazing, don't you, after that hike?"

"Absolutely. Especially with the company I had." Playful eyelashes, soft smile

I feel that last comment as a fluttering in my gut, but I try to push it aside for now. Focus on the task at hand. I really want to take this girl's picture. I want to take much more than that, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. First things first.

"It shows. I'm telling you, you look delicious. You're glowing. Seriously."

Oh, fuck. Is that a blush? A little sound escapes from my lips. This girl is dangerous. I've known her a couple of hours, and already I'm spellbound. Damn.

I can feel her resolve waning, but she's still hesitating, probably for form's sake.

"Tell you what. After I'm done taking the pictures, we can look at them together, and I'll delete any that you don't like, right then and there."

"I... okay. Hey, wait! Pictures? You said 'let me take your picture.' Singular."

I can't help but chuckle. "What can I say? I'm a photographer. I see something beautiful, I want to capture it. It's in my blood. I'm far too greedy to stop at one picture. But you'll have full veto power on which ones I keep."

Her cheeks flush at the word beautiful. "Okay, where do you want me?"

Oh. Darlin', if you only knew...

"Right there. Perfect. Look at the way the light filters through the trees. You're going to love these pictures. Trust me."

Click. Move. Click. Kneel. Click.

"Do you want me to do anything?" Smile.

Oh fuck. She must have heard the growl that time. Damn. But take it slow.

"Just move. Just go with it. Whatever you feel."

I switch to burst mode, to capture the fluid grace of her movement at three frames per second.

"Oh yeah. That's perfect. So beautiful." Staccato shutter bursts.

She's dancing now. Flushed, slightly breathless. Her hands start moving over her body. Oh help.

"Oh. Yes. That's it." I can't keep a slight growl out of my voice. I don't particularly try. Clickclickclick.

"That's it. Just feel. Just move. So beautiful."

She licks her lips. God, she's getting off on it. Loving the attention, loving the effect she's having on me. How did I know she would? What did I do to deserve this? I'm mostly squatting, partly to get low angle shots, partly to disguise my condition. Oh, what the fuck. I stand erect. Erect. She shudders, seeing what she's doing to me. I capture the look of raw lust on her face.

As her hands roam, they lift her white tee, just a little. Unbidden gasp. "Oh. Yes. That's it." Soft growls of encouragement communicate far more than my words, but she loves the words, too. "More. That's it. So beautiful." The shirt slides higher, slowly. "Yes. Yes. So good." clickclickclick The soft bursts of the shutter sent an electric shock through her, every time. Her beauty, her hunger, her lust, her body, captured. Mine.

I'm lost in the moment, moving through a thick haze of lust, but part of me is still pure photographer, thrilled at the images I'm capturing. The dappled light filtering through the green canopy overhead, bathing this beautiful creature in a primordial glow. Nature incarnate. Lust incarnate. Click. That look on her face, eyes narrowed, getting off on my hunger for her. Her sliding hands lift her shirt up to her tits. Kneading through her sports bra. Fuck. Click.

A threshold passes. Sex has been in the air since we started this, but this is the first blatantly sexual touch. Now I am free to push harder, to give her the direction we both crave.

"Oh fuck. That's it baby. Touch yourself for me. You are so..." Click. "Fucking..." Click. "Hot." Click.

She moans. Hips gyrating, grinding, wanting. Hands squeezing, mauling. The backcountry campground is deserted, but somone could walk up at any time. I don't care. She doesn't care.

"Now. Show me. Lift your bra for me, baby."

I swear I can hear her nipples springing forth as her bra slides up over them. Proud. Taut. Perfect. Suckable. She cups her breasts, squeezing them, presenting her nipples for my inspection. Captured by my lens.

"Oh fuck, baby, you have beautiful nipples." Click. "Play with them for me. That's it. So fucking perfect. Your nipples were made to be sucked, weren't they?" Click.

Strangled gasp escapes her lips. Such a primal scene. Predator stalking prey. But which is which? I'm ostensibly calling the shots, but we both know that I'm completely under her spell.

I circle around her. Click. Devouring her with my lens, from every angle. Click. She's dancing now, writhing to the beat of her fucklust. Rhythmic tugs on her nipples, making my mouth water, making my cock twitch. Her ass grinding, gyrating, fucking air. I move closer, capturing her proud taut nipples. Capturing. Yes. Mine. Click.

"So. Fucking. Hot. Do you know how many times I'm going to stare at these pictures. How many times I'm going to get as hard as I am right now, remembering every detail of this moment? Remembering every detail of what is going to happen? Do you know how many times I'm going to jack off, looking at these pictures?" Click. Click. Click.

Low shuddering moan escapes her lips. Wordless, but conveying so much. She loves showing herself to me. Loves what it does to me. Loves the power she has over me. The power to drive me to the limits of my control. The power to make me ache to take her, to possess her, to be inside her.

My eyes slowly move down from her nipples, willing her hands to follow. They comply. Stroking down her belly. Click. Circling. Teasing. Click. Writhing. Click. Fingers darting just inside the waistband of her shorts. My turn to gasp. Click.

Such an exquisite tease she is. We just met a few hours ago, but already she knows just how to wind me up. She is going to feel the full force of just how taut she has wound me. Fuck. Click.

She turns, slowly, presenting her ass to me. Fuck, what a beautiful ass. Her hands trace over it. Her hands, her fingers becoming the embodiment of my eyes. Caressing. Stroking. Feeling exactly what I see, exactly what she is showing to me. Light caresses, gradually increasing in pressure. Click. Squeezing. Click. Kneading. Clutching. Fuck. Click. I can barely hold the camera still. Trembling with fucklust.

"Oh fuck, you have a beautiful bum. You know I followed behind you for a mile, just so I could stare at it, don't you? Could you feel me eyes on it? You knew. I could have caught up with you at any time, but I stayed back. Staring. Wanting. Craving. Aching to touch your ass. Squeeze it. Knead it. Feel your perfect cheeks pressed tight against me as I plunge into you, hard."

At this last, her knees almost buckle. So ripe for the picking, she is. I can fucking smell how wet she is.

She starts to lower her shorts. Slowly. Inch by tantalizing inch, revealing the luscious hemispheres of her ass to my eyes. To the lens. Click. Click.

Drip. Drip. I'm so focused on her flesh that I see them splash on her ass cheeks before I even feel them. Fat drops of rain. Fuck. My camera.

Without a word, without taking my eyes off of her more than strictly necessary, I move to place the camera in the tent. Zip it closed. Protected. But no more images. Fuck.

My disappointment, is fleeting, though, because she's not stopping, unfazed by the rain. Fabric still sliding. Revealing. Exposing. I should ask her if she wants to stop. Adjourn to my tent. Fuck her senseless to the crescendoing rhythm of the rain.

Fuck that. A little rain won't kill us. I can warm her up afterwards. Look at her. Look at the drops cascading down her flesh. So fucking beautiful. This girl. She knows exactly how to drive me wild. Instinctive.

I open my mouth to speak, to tell her how beautiful she is, but no words come out. We haved moved beyond words. I step closer. Close enough to touch. Aching to touch. To take. Mine.

But I don't. Not yet. This part of the dance isn't over yet. As her entire ass is revealed in all its glory, she yanks her shorts and panties down. Off. Glancing back over her shoulder. Watching me, watching her. Her hands slide wetly over her glistening, gyrating ass. Fuck. My eyes dart to hers, then back to her ass, unable to leave it. Devouring it, every detail.

She bends at the waist. Leans against a tree. Legs straight. Hands cupping her dripping ass. Squeezing. Kneading. Her small hands doing what my large hands want to do. Ass grinding, small tight circles. Dancing. Gyrating. Fuck. Can't breathe. It's only through sheer force of will that I am able to keep from reaching. Clutching. Taking. Fuck.

Still looking back, watching my every reaction. Her eyes are narrowed. Almost closed. As I fumble for my belt, though, they get wide. Pleading. Soft animal moan from her lips. I should tease her, but I can't. Too far gone for such niceties. Unbuckle. Unbutton. Unzip. Yank them off. Cock springing. Jutting. Taut. Frantically yanking my shirt off. Tossing aside, who cares where.

Her moans take on a plaintive tone. Please, her moans say. Please. Now.

As our fucklust builds in intensity, so does the rain. Pelting us now. Pouring. Drenching. Stinging her naked ass and lower back. My shoulders. Rivulets running, cooling our flushed skin, connecting the humming nerve endings.

With a growl and a hard convulsive shiver, I reach for her. Electric contact. Still contained, though. Just touching, not taking. Trembling. Sliding over her wet ass. Feeling. Investigating. Fingers traveling the path my eyes took. Wet globes. Warm crevice. Lower. Oh fuck. A different wetness. Slick. Slightly viscous. Fuck. Sliding in. Just a fingertip. Soft. Wet. Hot. Mine. Mine.

I withdraw. Pause. She moans. Pleading. Breathless. I move closer. Cock brushing the back of her thigh. Wet velvety cocktip. Wet thigh. Her thighs part. Ass arching. Begging now. Please.

Withraw again. Just then, I am struck by the feel of the cool rain pelting my hard cock. I can practically feel the drops steaming. Driving rain. An extension of our fucklust. Conduit for our hunger. We're not touching, but the rain is connecting us.

Moving in. Tip of my wet cock pressing. Poised. She pushes back, not even meaning to. Involuntary. Aching to be filled. My hand grip her waist, firmly. Hold her steady. Not yet. Holding here, just at her opening. Just the tip, pressing into her. Feel the rain, connecting. Running down her slit, mixing with her nectar, coating my cockhead. Dripping. Wet. Hot. Where does the rain stop and her juice begin? They are one and the same. The storm is our lust. Feeds our lust. Fed by our lust. Holding until the last possible moment, until I can't take it any more, until I have to be inside her. Have to.

With a hard, driving thrust, I plunge deep into her wet cunt just as a bolt of lightning flashes overhead.

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