PETER — Plymouth

Just Looking

I’m a voyeur and I’m not ashamed of it. I know a lot of people think I should be but I just don’t get that at all. After all, I’m just looking. I never touch, I never do anything that could get me arrested. I just like to look.

When I say I never do anything that could get me arrested, what I mean is that I never do anything that I deserve to get arrested for, like putting a video camera in a holdall so I can film up girls’ skirts or lurking around female halls of residence. When you’re a voyeur you’ve always got to be a bit careful. I remember a sketch on TV, I think it was Russ Abbott, where he says that if he goes out into his garden stark bollock naked and the woman next door sees him he’s a flasher and he gets arrested, but if she goes out into her garden stark bollock naked and he sees her, then he’s a voyeur and he still gets arrested. It really does work that way, sometimes, so you do have to be careful.

Not that I’m really at risk, because what gets me off is accidental display. Voyeurism’s not just about liking to watch. At one end of the scale there’s paying for it, peepshows and strip clubs, lap dancing and topless bars. That does nothing for me. I’ve never been to anything like that, expect once on a friend’s stag night, and I hated it. For one thing you know the girls are doing it for money, which I find really sordid. Also, they’re showing what they want to show, or rather, what you’re paying them to show, which for me makes it pointless. After all, if I just want to look at bums and tits all I have to do is turn on my computer and I can get an endless procession of both, for free. At the other end of the scale there’s the nasty stuff, which is illegal and just plain stupid. What I like is in between and, I like to think, a bit more refined, accidental display, when a girl shows just that little bit more than she means to, maybe without even realising it, but better still, far, far better, if she does realise and gets embarrassed.

It doesn’t have to be hardcore. Sure, I quite to like to see a couple at it, especially if they don’t realise they’ve been spotted, but I’m just as happy with an accidental flash of a nipple or even panties. That said, what I really like to see is a bare arse. It’s just that little bit ruder, I suppose. After all, girls go topless on some beaches and think nothing of it, but they don’t often go bottomless, and then of course there’s that perfect view, a woman seen from behind so that not only is her bare arse on display but her pussy shows from behind. To me that view, seen accidentally and for the woman to realise that I’ve seen but be unable to do anything about it, that is perfection.

It’s also rare, but then perfection should be or there’s a risk of becoming jaded. After all, if girls walked around in the nude all day and didn’t think twice about bending over, then it wouldn’t be a big deal at all. Fortunately for me they don’t, and it is. That’s why I treasure each perfect memory, and there are only three, although I’ve had plenty of lesser experiences, so here are just a couple as a warm-up and to illustrate what I like.

First, the girls at the temple of Athene on Kos. It’s much like any other Greek ruin, I suppose, with open spaces of cracked paving stones and columns, mostly fallen. What it does have is two levels, one ten or twelve feet above the other, connected by a flight of steps. I didn’t go there specifically to look at girls, although I’m always on watch, but just as a tourist. One look and I’d realised the potential of those steps. There were a lot of girls about and it was hot. Most of them were wearing shorts, and they were well worth looking at anyway, with slices of creamy pink or honey coloured arse cheeks on show, but better still were the ones in the loose, short skirts that were fashionable at the time, or summer dresses.

In order to look over the ruins, everybody would climb the steps to what had been the main part of the temple on the upper level, but there were also a lot of people just hanging around, including some sitting on the fallen sections of column. One column had fallen beside the steps, and it was quite obvious to me that anybody sitting there would have a prime view up the girls’ skirts as they climbed the steps.

So I sat there, with my shades on so it wasn’t obvious that I was looking, pretending to read my guide book and enjoying the view. It was some view. I remember a leggy Greek beauty in a white summer dress with a black thong underneath, her perfect, egg-shaped little buttocks quite bare up her dress. Then there was the pair of German students, both in miniskirts, one blonde, one dark, but both with their arses on show, one in white knickers, one in green, one sleek and muscular, one quite cheeky. Best of all was a black girl in a floaty yellow dress, ever so pretty, and when her turn came to climb to the steps an obliging zephyr lifted it to give me a truly divine view up to her neatly turned, brown-skinned bottom. She was bare, no panties, and if she’d only bent forward just a tiny bit at the right moment, perhaps to pat her dress down, my view would have been perfect. It was good though, very good.

You might think I’m mad, because less than a mile from that temple there were crowded beaches with hundreds of equally beautiful girls in bikinis, walking, sunning themselves, playing in the water, with all but a few square inches of their bodies on show. Go to somewhere a little more secluded and some of them would have been topless, even nude, and on a beach you don’t even need an excuse to just sit there and admire the view. It’s what people do. Don’t get me wrong, that would have been nice, but aside from the occasional accidentally dropped towel or bikini lost in the waves I wouldn’t have seen anything I wasn’t supposed to. For me the temple was better.

Another good example happened one evening on the platform of a country station in Lincolnshire. I’d just missed my train, which meant a wait of three-quarters of an hour for the next and there was nothing to do but sit in the sunshine and stare into space. After a while three girls came out on to the platform opposite. I suppose they’d been drinking, because they were certainly merry, laughing and teasing each other. One was particularly busty and didn’t seem to have a bra on under her top, which not surprisingly excited my attention, and certainly gave me something better to look at than the tracks. The other two seemed to be picking on her, all in good humour but definitely at her expense. It wasn’t obvious what had happened, not exactly, but somehow the busty girl had lost her bra. The catch had probably broken or something equally mundane, but in my mind they’d been playing strip poker and whoever had got her bra off had refused to give it back.

That little fantasy would have been enough to keep me amused, normally, but all of a sudden, without the slightest warning, the other two girls grabbed the sides of their friend’s top and whipped it up, baring her ample boobs. She covered up hastily and began to chase the others up and down the platform, making me hope I’d see some suitably juicy revenge, maybe their bare breasts as well, or trousers pulled down, maybe a smacked bottom. Unfortunately the train came soon afterwards, but I was still left with that glorious image of the girl’s big, naked boobs and the rich embarrassment on her face because she was bare and she knew I could see. That was the thrill, you see, because she didn’t mean to show herself off, but I saw her boobs and there was no getting rid of that fact.

The first of my three perfect moments was not dissimilar and came completely by chance. It was a summer’s day and I’d arrived early for a business appointment just outside London to the south. With an hour to kill I decided to take a walk in the local beech woods, which are famously beautiful. I wasn’t even thinking about sex, and I hadn’t seen anybody for maybe ten minutes after deciding to come off the beaten track and walk between the huge silvery green trunks and among the box bushes growing where the sunlight got in. All of a sudden there she was, right in front of me as I came out from behind a bush. Beyond her was a high bank that bordered a track, as I learnt later, and she’d obviously taken shelter behind it to pee, because her back was to me and as I came around the bush she was in the act of taking down her jeans and panties, with her bare arse pushed out, as good as in my face, her cheeks well spread to show off the pale star of her arsehole and her open pussy.

It was over in just an instant, before she realised that there was somebody there and hastily covered herself up before giving me the filthiest look I have ever received, but with her face the colour of a beetroot. Of course I couldn’t apologise enough, and it had been a genuine accident, but I’d seen, and she knew I’d seen, and the shame and resentment in her face for the show she’d given me was made all the more exciting because she was completely helpless to do anything about the situation.

Normally I wait to get home before holding the image in my mind while I masturbate, and I get stronger orgasms that way than I ever have with a woman, but this time it was just too much. I went back the way I’d come and finished myself off among the bushes, picturing her exactly as she’d been, jeans and panties pushed down, beautiful rounded bottom thrust out right at me, her every so slightly chubby cheeks well spread to show off her arsehole, and best of all, the pouting lips of her pussy. I only wish I’d had my camera.

The second and third of my three perfect moments happened on the same day at my favourite pool on the moors and they were deliberate. I’m not going to say where it is, even which moors, because if there’s one thing you learn as a dedicated voyeur it’s to keep your best sites to yourself, especially now information can get passed around on the internet so quickly. Suffice to say that this pool is one of several along the same small river as it comes out of the heart of the moor along a steep valley. It’s a good three mile walk to the nearest car park, a lot of it across broken ground, so not many people get there. Those who do tend to be pretty fit and to like a bit of privacy, which often means attractive girls. Both sides of the valley are steep and covered with rocks and thorn trees, but on one side there’s a long ridge of big, broken rocks, which could have been built for a voyeur.

The only problem is that you need binoculars, or a camera with a powerful lens. Needless to say I own both, and I know all the best spots from which to watch. I suppose it’s a bit like hunting, only I don’t kill anything, which in my view makes what I do more morally justifiable. I can go out to those rocks and stay there all day, just about, watching and waiting. Even if nothing happens it’s not a bad way to spend the time, but on any summer’s day, so long as there’s a bit of sun and not too much wind, you can be pretty sure something will happen.

I think my best time there was when I arrived at the car park to find two girls who’d arrived just ahead of me. They were both in their twenties, one dark and pretty with freckles and a fleshy little bottom, very cheeky for such a slim girl, the other smaller, also dark, but with tight black curls, big breasts made bigger by her tiny waist and a plump, wobbly bottom. Just in their jeans and tops they looked good, but both of them were carrying towels and it was obvious where they were going. I ached to see them stripped down.

Now to get to the pool you walk along the river, but if you make straight for the ridge it’s only about two-thirds the distance and of course as far as they were concerned I’d just set off across the moor in a different direction to the one they were taking. That way they had no reason to suspect I intended to watch them swim, and as they’d never know, no harm would be done.

I got to my hidey hole well before they arrived at the pool. In fact I couldn’t even see them in the valley and for one frustrating moment thought they might have gone somewhere else, perhaps not to swim at all but to sunbathe. That hurt, to think of them somewhere out there, with miles of empty moor and hundreds of secluded nooks to choose from, because girls who go out to the moors to sunbathe almost always do it nude, and I should know. There was next to no chance of finding them though, as if they’d crossed the river they might be almost anywhere, and would very likely see me coming as well. So I settled down to wait, knowing that even if they didn’t come there was a fair chance that others would.

Fortunately I was wrong, and I’d no sooner got comfortable than they appeared at the turn of the valley, scrambling rather cautiously over a ledge where a spur of rock pokes out right to the river’s edge. My heart had begun to beat faster immediately, just watching them, even though they were maybe three hundred feet below me and a long way away, and completely decent, just the same way they’d been in the car park. That didn’t matter. I knew there was every chance they’d strip, and if they didn’t realise that anybody was about, well!

I was edged into a crack among the rocks, comfortable enough and completely invisible unless anybody climbed the rocks directly to either side of me. That was unlikely, and there’s always the excuse that I’d been bird watching, for which purpose I carry a basic guide book on the recognition of birds. I still felt nervous as I set up my camera, but that’s part of the fun, that and the chase, and the triumph of success, all as much as the erotic thrill of what I get to see.

By the time they’d got to the pool I was ready, watching them and able to take a decent quality photo any time I liked. The taller girl, who I thought of as Cheeky, didn’t seem too sure of herself, balancing across the rocks and tufts of grass with her arms extended, which made her look wonderfully sweet and vulnerable. Her plump friend, Tits, was a lot more confident, jumping from rock to rock, which was why she got to the edge of the pool first. It hadn’t rained for a while, so the river was quite low, with areas of broad, smooth rock at the sides, normally under water, but perfect for anybody wanting to bathe.

Tits had dropped her towel and lost no time in taking off her shoes so that my heart rate picked up faster still at the thought of watching her do a careless strip and jumping in naked. All she did was dip one toe in to test the water, then call back to her friend, leaving me excited and frustrated all at once because I couldn’t hear what they were saying and didn’t know if she’d decided it was too cold or what.

Once Cheeky had caught up they stood together on the rock ledge for a while, staring down into the water as if trying to make up their minds whether to go in or not. I was praying they would, and my prayers were answered. They both spread their towels out, before Tits climbed up on to one of the bigger rocks to look up and down the valley, presumably checking to see if there were any Peeping Toms about and quickly deciding she was safe. Little did she know!

She said something to Cheeky and then began to undress, not even bothering to cover herself with her towel, but just peeling up her top to show off two big, round boobs encased in black material.

That’s always a great moment, when a girl pulls her top up and you see what’s underneath but you’re not sure if it’s a bikini top, in which case it’s probably staying on, or a bra, in which case it’s almost certainly coming off. With Tits it was a bra, and it came off. She was huge. I mean, really big, the sort of fat, bouncy boobies you wouldn’t normally expect to see on any woman under forty, only over a tiny waist that made them look bigger still. She had a lovely plump bottom too, and when she pushed her jeans down I had to adjust my cock in my pants for the sight of those big, juicy cheeks covered in nothing but a pair of little black knickers far too small to hold her in properly.

I was hoping she’d take them off, but she seemed to decided that going topless was daring enough and sat down on a rock. Meanwhile, Cheeky had begun to undress, but she was being much shyer about it, especially as the only other person there was her friend, or at least so she thought. She’s wrapped her towel around herself and was trying to undress underneath without showing anything, only it didn’t really work, because it wasn’t until she’d got all her lower clothes off that she decided to get her swimming costume out of her bag. When she did it she let her towel slip, and I pressed the button on the camera just in time, to record my first perfect flash of the day.

I’ve still got the picture, which is better than the reality was at the time because of the quality of the camera and the lens. She’s kneeling down on the rock, in a slightly awkward position, her bottom stuck out as she reaches for the back, her pretty face set in embarrassment and consternation as she realises she’s dropped the towel, which has just fallen away to leave her cheeks on full, naked show, well parted because of the position she’s in, with her pussy lips pouting out backwards between her thighs and her tight pink arsehole in plain view.

After seeing that I wanted to take my cock out and finish off, but I knew there’d be more, if only the pleasure of watching Tits swim and sunbathe topless. What I got was rather better. Tits seemed to think the state Cheeky was getting herself into was funny and began to tease her, maybe trying to persuade her to leave her bikini top off, although I couldn’t make out the words. She was certainly putting on a good display though, deliberately jiggling her boobies at her friend, as if to say that if I can show these whoppers, then you can show yours, which are only half the size. Unfortunately cheeky wouldn’t go for it, but no sooner were they in the water than Tits tried to get her friend’s top off. That started a play fight, and as Tits was already topless Cheeky had no way of retaliating except to go for her friend’s pants. She did, pulling them off the struggling Tits under water and waving them in the air with a crow of laughter I heard clearly from right up on the hill. She then threw them up onto the rock ledge, forcing Tits to retrieve them and in doing so treat me to a lovely display of pussy and bare, wobbling bottom, not to mention her enormous boobs, all of which I captured on camera.

After her humiliation she was determined to get her own back, but for all her confidence and agility she was really too small. She got stripped again by the laughing Cheeky, but this time she didn’t even bother to retrieve her bikini bottoms but got stuck in once more, now more determined than ever. The less a girl shows the more I like to see what she’s got, so when Cheeky eventually got her top pulled off by a triumphant Tits I was in heaven, but the best was yet to come.

Tits threw Cheeky’s bikini top onto the rocks, deliberately forcing her to go bare out of the water, just like she’d been made to do herself, but as Cheeky hauled herself out Tits was right behind her, and she pulled down her friend’s bikini bottoms. I saw everything, Cheeky gave a squeak of shock and she’d gone forward, her face and chest on the flat, dry rock, her legs still in the water, her bare bottom stuck up with her bikini pants in a tangle around her thighs and the lips of her beautifully turned little pussy sticking out between, shaved and nude, with the brownish dimple of her arsehole also showing. In the close up of the photo I took you can even see the lines were her hole goes in, and that was my second perfect shot of the day, and I think the best of all.