A Shower at Bedtime

Voyeurism, whether it's classified as a kink or fetish, is a difficult thing to live with. As a voyeur, sometimes the smallest, most innocent observations can arouse me sexually. The inadvertent exposure of a woman's bras strap, the hint of panty lines, and even the socially acceptable view of cleavage can begin fantasies that are probably not evoked in people without this particular affinity. It leads many to take great risks to feed their desires, often with tragic results.

This is an account of only one of my most risky acts, one that was particularly successful, and has supplied my sexual fantasies for over a decade.

I became somewhat obsessed with my wife's much younger sister when she was still in college. She wasn't exempt from my typical acts of more innocent observation before this, but I can vividly remember the event that began my obsession with seeing her naked. She was visiting us while we were still living in an apartment. The weather was warm. It was discussed before she arrived that we could sit out by the pool, grill outdoors, and just relax.

That was the first time, the first of many, that I saw her in a bikini.

It's often true that "less is more" when a woman presents herself while attempting to be sexually attractive. A bathing suit is innocent enough - you obviously really can't see much, but what remains obscured just fuels the imagination. The imagination, specifically the mind itself, is the most powerful sex organ we have.

She had, and still has small breasts. I'm particularly fond of small breasts. I had sunglasses on the whole time, so it was easy for me to intently stare at the way the top edge of her bikini top met and held her breasts. I had ample time to stare at her ass, her hips, and pelvis that were hidden only by the thin, sparse material of the bikini bottoms. I stared for a long time, and visions of what she possibly looked like naked filled my mind.

Yes, I enjoy undressing women in my mind as I look at them. I always have. It's a strange sensation to describe to a non-voyeur, but I almost feel as if I have achieved some sort of conquest if I know what a woman's nipples look like, whether she grooms or shaves her pubic hair, or know what her pubic hair looks like in general.

For years after the pool incident, I continued to acquire new peeks at her, as if obtaining hidden knowledge. To me, a woman seeks to hide those details of her body and when I thwart those efforts and see what I'm not supposed to see I generate sexual arousal for myself. I caught numerous views down her shirt of her bra-clad breasts. I was able to go through her wardrobe at her home once to see her panties, bras, and undergarments for the purpose of "knowing" what might be underneath her clothing. I knew from this that she wore a 32A bra, and that the cups were padded. She preferred dainty, simple white cotton panties. Each successful view of something I wasn't supposed to see just fed the obsession I had.

Then I made my most successful "conquest" of her.

To give you some background, the guest bathroom in our house at the time had a combination bathtub and shower like many homes. The bathroom was essentially one large rectangle, with the door on one end and the tub/shower combo on the opposite end. The tub was against an external wall of the bathroom, and a small rectangular window, placed high up on the wall, was present and had a sliding pane that could be used for ventilation purposes more than light or scenery. We had a large tree outside the bathroom, and the area where the tree grew was in our back yard.

She was coming to visit us, like she had previously done many times before. She always showered at night, an activity that I often wish I could see. During one of my previous fantasies about her the idea for the plan that I was about to enact came to me.

It was daring. It was risky. But I knew it might work. I just had to create some believable routines to avoid suspicion.

We had dogs. Before my wife and I would go to bed at night I would always take them into the back yard to "potty" for the night. Going outside at night was therefore not unusual for me, nor was staying outside for 15-20 minutes unexpected. Prior to her arrival, I made it a point to start trimming our trees but not finish the activity. The A-shaped ladder I was using was therefore still outside for that purpose.

The night it happened, we all decided to go to bed at the same time. My wife went to our bedroom, I took the dogs outside, and my wife's sister proceeded to the guest bathroom to shower as she typically did at night.

The stage was set.

The darkness outside and inability to see out of the bathroom window from inside provided a rather safe and effective cover. I walked around, actually scurried, to the side of the house where the guest bathroom was. The A-shaped ladder was already in place next to the tree, so I climbed up.

She had gone into the bathroom, closed the door, and was standing in front of the vanity and mirror preparing to wash her face. I saw her put a headband on to hold her long, curly dark hair back as she applied the lather to her face and forehead. I could see her and her entire clothed body perfectly. Again, that wouldn't excite most people, but I was already viewing a personal routine she would normally keep private. It was a good start, and this innocent nightly routine of hers caused my cock to begin engorging.

After drying her face, she walked toward the shower (and me) and bent down out of view. She was turning on the water to allow it to get warm. She started walking back toward the vanity, and I saw her hands go down to the bottom of her shirt.

I felt the adrenaline from anticipation flood through my system.

She drew the shirt up and over her head while facing the mirror, revealing her basic white bra underneath. She put the shirt on the counter beside her. I saw her hands go behind her back and reach up toward the bra clasp.

Again, another surge of adrenaline hit my system, and my cock began to engorge to full erection immediately.

The bra was unclasped, pulled over her shoulders, and removed to be dropped onto the counter with her shirt. Her breasts were exposed. I was exhilarated. For so very long I had wanted to see her small, bare breasts and this did not disappoint. She was small, unlike my wife. Her breast tissue formed gentle cones instead of the typical teardrop shape. Her areolae were small, bright pink, and perfectly accentuated her breasts' diminutive size. I was very pleasantly surprised to see how elongated her nipples could get.

Her breasts were gorgeous. Her bare chest was lust-inducing.

She had always been self-conscious of her small breasts. Often she muttered self-deprecating comments about having "no boobs" around us. She would be mortified and humiliated if she knew I was seeing them, yet that only added to the excitement I felt.

I felt no guilt.

Almost immediately she slipped out of her pants and panties, piled them up on the counter with her bra and shirt, and revealed the dark lushness of her pubic hair. I had envisioned that she might be one to completely shave her pussy, to keep it hairless. I don't know why I thought that. Seeing that beautiful patch of pubic hair between her legs was a very, very erotic to me.

She afforded me plenty of time to observe her, and to burn the image of her thin, waifish nude body into my visual memory. At that point, I had lowered my shorts and was openly stroking my very hard cock. She stood in front of the vanity still, her pelvis pressed against the edge of the counter top, as she inspected her sternum for what appeared to be pimples. I had seen my wife do that. It was even more interesting to see her sister do it.

I watched as she attempted to squeeze the invisible bumps between her fingernails. Her hands moved to her breasts as she inspected them, too. Then she stopped, grabbed her clothing from the counter top, turned, and bent over to place them in a bag where she kept her dirty clothing. This afforded me a view of her small ass, but most importantly, I saw between her legs. I wish I could say that I viewed her inviting pink pussy. What was visible between her legs and just below her buttocks was hidden by the generous hair that lined her labia.

Still, it was a forbidden view, and one I was never intended to see.

As she turned to walk toward the shower, I saw her fully nude frontal form once again. The image of her burned in my mind, and at that point I stared ejaculating out into the open air and into the darkness way above the ground. I did not watch my cock like I typically do when I masturbate to orgasm - my eyes were still lustfully locked on her nude form. I could tell, however, that the cum I was producing was thick, the amount was overly copious, and the distance it was being propelled from my body was quite far due to my sexual excitement.

I was still experiencing what was one of the most powerful orgasms of my life when she disappeared from view and the shower curtain was drawn closed. After coming back to reality after the wave of pleasure I had experienced, I realized I had no idea how long I had been outside. I had lost all track of time. I quickly drew my shorts back up to my waist, descended the ladder, and went back inside with our dogs.

The entire episode had lasted slightly longer than ten minutes. My wife was still performing her nightly beauty routine. No suspicion had been aroused. Yet, in that ten minute period I had experienced one of the most thrilling, fulfilling voyeuristic experiences of my entire life.

I lay awake a long time that night, re-playing the events in my head, looking and lusting at the mental images that I had permanently and indelibly captured. My fantasies were of my lips and mouth exploring her small breasts and nipples, and of my cock penetrating that forbidden pussy between her legs. Oh how to feel her warm, wet sex wrap around the shaft of my cock while her legs wrapped around my waist...

Violating her personal privacy, while normally a horrible act, felt like a huge accomplishment to me instead. I'm not saying it's right, acceptable, or even forgivable. It's what fuels a voyeur sexually, as it certainly did me.

Somehow I felt like I had conquered her. I had defeated her attempts to keep her deepest secret - her modesty, the image of her nude body - hidden from me and the world. The mystery of exactly what her mouth-watering nipples looked like had been solved. No, I didn't own her, but I owned the nude image of her that was created in my mind and it can never be taken away. I possessed that, and somehow felt like I had possessed her as a result.

Besides periodically re-visiting those events in my head while masturbating to the mental imagery, one of the most arousing activities I now have is simply being around her at holidays or routine visits, standing or sitting beside her, and knowing what her naked body looks like while she remains oblivious to my knowledge. Would she still smile at me warmly, hug me lovingly and press that padded bra against my chest, or wrap her arms around my neck if she knew the knowledge I have and how I obtained it?

I think we all know the answer to that. I knew the answer before I even did what I did. It didn't deter me then, and it doesn't deter me as I continue other voyeuristic activities to this day.