The House of Voyeur
Chapter 1 - Introduction
First, a little about myself. My name is Jake. I am a 26 year-old single old man. I have always been a little overweight and very much on the shy quiet side. While I have had some success in the dating arena, girls certainly do not seek me out.
My mostly boring college years did manage to include a couple of short but productive sexual relationships. Both with shy inexperienced college girls looking to sow their wild oats. Together we learned about sex, anatomy, and love. Passionately clumsy would be the best way to describe both relationships. I am certainly not complaining, any opportunity to get my dick wet was more than welcome. In both cases, once the girls gained a little self-confidence in the sexual arena, they lost interest and moved on to more popular guys.
It's been a long time since I thought about those times. The first time I saw a real female body. Taking in every delicate detail, every imperfection, all of my senses on high alert.
The sense of touch played an important role as we discovered those hidden parts, parts not yet ready to reveal themselves in the light of day. The feel of her smooth firm breast, the hardness of her erect nipple, the softness of her furry vulva, the texture of her wet vagina.
The sounds of love are fascinating; quiet purring sounds as her body comes to life, moans of ecstasy as her body rejoices, the wet slurping sound as her delicate pink pussy accepts an invited guest, the sound of her lovely heartbeat as she lay motionless on top of me, totally fulfilled.
Then there is smell, so prevalent in my memories, my fantasies. There is no way to describe the effects of an aroused girl's scent on a young man's brain. The fragile scent of aroused breasts, the undeniable aroma of her perspiration, the sweet tangy smell of her damp panty clad crotch. A woman's unique scents are so very private, so deeply personal, for some too personal. Society has taught us to mask our scents, deny their very existence.
Let's not forget the role that taste plays in the sexual arena. Like a connoisseur of fine wine, my taste buds would carefully evaluate each sexual encounter like a unique vintage. Sweet, salty, tangy, the blend of flavors so complex, so full. The taste of a woman is constantly changing, evolving, but always erotic.
Okay, slow down, I am getting way ahead of myself. Simply put, my brain retains the data provided by all my senses, stores it away, and uses it to form very real, very vivid memories. Memories that come flooding back in at the most unexpected of times, become the core of fantasy.
So, back to my story. I have always been one to sit on the sidelines and people watch, or probably more accurately, girl watch. I don't see myself as a "creeper" but rather a perpetual observer, student if you will, of the female anatomy. I always figured if a girl (or guy for that matter) wants to show off their goods by wearing provocative clothing, she/he wants to be noticed. Well, I am here to notice.
I love to watch the female species in the wild. When I spot the right subject from afar, reality quickly turns to fantasy. Something as simple as an attractive woman sitting on a park bench can spark the most erotic fantasy. Reality briefly escapes me as my mind generates its own version of events.
A well-endowed lady sitting on a park bench, her nipple sheepishly peeking through her top will quickly trigger a fantasy. A detailed visual daydream that floods my mind with the data from all of that previously stored sensory input. I visualize myself delicately tracing a finger over that shy little nub perched atop those pillowy mounds of beauty. Her nipple, ever so slightly pushing through her blouse wants, no needs attention. Soon, I am rubbing, pulling, and twisting it into submission. Her blouse comes off, bra detached; her full, firm breasts lay free against her chest. Smooth, soft, inviting. Her nipples hard, areolae large and dark, begging for attention from my tongue. My lips engulf her rubbery nipple. Sucking it deeply into my mouth, tongue twirling, gently biting. She pushes my hand down to her spreading, tanned thighs and under her skirt. Carefully, our intertwined fingers find her damp panties, pressing against her trembling warm softness. The sound of her moaning fills my brain. My fingers slide into the leg opening of her now drenched panties. My thumb presses against her hard little clit while two fingers carefully part those soft supple lips. Slowly, they ease into her wetness, pausing as her body relaxes, tissue expands, juices flow. Pressing deeper, pumping gently, her body responds. Tensing, shuddering, her eyes closed tightly. Deeper I push, my fingers searching for her G spot. Her pussy quivers as her pelvis gently thrusts against me hand. Her clit grows under the pressure of my thumb. She lets out a deep guttural moan, arches her back. A flood of warm, slippery fluid flows freely over my fingers, drips down her inner thigh and butt cheek, before soaking into her skirt. Her body goes limp. Her pussy continues to flutter and contract. She slowly opens her eyes as I pull my hand from her satisfied wetness. She blushes and smiles as I inhale her aroma, cleaning her essence from my fingers. She struggles to conceal her nakedness. Adjusting her clothing, she slowly gets up and walks away, wet stained skirt gently sliding over her perfect ass. No introductions, no words, just a man pleasuring a woman.
Suddenly, my mind returns to reality as I watch this beautiful stranger walk away. Could she somehow sense that she was the subject of my fantasy? Did she even know I existed? Pressure builds inside my boxers as a drop of pre-cum dribbles down my thigh. A harmless voyeur, a non-invasive fantasy, pure and simple. Nothing more.
Depending on what my eyes take in, my fantasies are always different. After I get back home, in the privacy of my bedroom, those fantasies are relived repeatedly. A well lubricated hand makes love to my hard dick as I fall deeply into a daydream. All my senses contributing to the dream. A sudden whiff of her underarm, the taste of her sweaty under-boob, the tickle of her wispy soft pubic hair guarding that precious and inviting opening. All memories from my earlier sexual encounters, all blended seamlessly into my current fantasy. Pure magic.
Voyeur is probably the best term to describe me. I love to watch but am far too shy and inhibited to act. While my mind is outgoing and sexually adventurous, I can barely talk to a strange woman. Public sex? Only in my dreams.
I guess I am also a chronic masturbator. Seldom does a day go by that my mind and body aren't overcome by an exciting new fantasy. Almost always, these fantasies result in cum exploding from my dick.
Chapter 2 - Jayne Enters My Life
The story actually starts just about the time COVID hit us all hard. January of 2020, I bought a small two-bedroom, one bath house with the idea that I would rent out a room for a couple years so I could save up enough money to do a complete remodel and flip it. While I was waiting for the house sale to finalize, I started advertising for a roommate.
The house is a two story with both bedrooms and the only bathroom upstairs. Downstairs is a modest kitchen, living room and dining room. Near the back door is a laundry closet. Nothing fancy but comfortable and practical. My ad for a roommate was clear about the single bath situation, so I wasn't expecting to get any female applicants. To my chagrin, I wasn't getting any applicants at all.
Monday, February 3rd, I signed papers and immediately started moving into the house. I picked up a "Room for Rent" sign at the local hardware store and stuck it in the front yard. A couple of days later a young lady knocked at the front door and introduced herself as Jayne. She looked to be in her early to mid twenties, and easily fit the description of "plain" Jayne. She was brunette with her hair pulled back in a bun. No noticeable makeup, a loose-fitting T-shirt, and pair of jeans. There was probably a nice body under there but who could tell? She was pretty, but in a homely kind of way.
Jayne wanted to know about the room for rent and said that she had just moved to town to start a new job and wasn't familiar with the area. I invited her in and asked if she wanted something to drink. She took me up on a bottle of water and seemed anxious to see the room.
As we walked upstairs, her leading the way, I couldn't help but study her ass.
When we reached the top of the stairs, I pointed out the only bathroom down the hall from the two bedrooms. She didn't seem at all concerned and asked if I was the only other person that would be living in the house. I assured her that was the case.
When we arrived at the door of what could be her new bedroom, she seemed surprised to see that it was fully furnished with bed, nightstand, and dresser. She inspected the modest closet then fell back on the bed. "Very comfortable," she said as she lay there for several minutes. One foot on the floor, her other was on the bed with her knee bent. She was shaking her foot on the bed as she slowly sank into the pillow and closed her eyes.
I stepped into the room; a bit hesitant about invading her personal space. The bed was rocking gently as her foot continued to shake. My voyeuristic tendencies kicked in and my eyes drifted to the crotch of her jeans, her legs slightly parted from the way she was laying, hoping to see some evidence of feminine detail - a slit, a crack, panty lines, anything. Her pelvis rolled slightly with the movement of her foot, but her jeans masked any detail. I then focused on the rhythm of her swaying chest, gently rolling from side to side in a fluid motion, waiting for any sign of a nipple to appear. Again, no luck.
Her eyes still closed, I caught myself inhaling deeply, searching for any foreign scent. I detected an ever so slight tinge of fragrance, most likely a scented body wash or perhaps deodorant. Jayne suddenly sat up, looked me straight in the eye and said, "You aren't a rapist, are you?"
Quickly snapping out of my freshly developing fantasy, I took a deep breath, concerned that my eyes must have lingered a bit too long on her crotch or chest, or perhaps she detected my effort to uncover her personal scent.
I quickly regained my composure and said, "Of course not."
She smiled and said, "Okay then, how much for the room?"
"Two hundred a month including utilities," I responded.
Jayne jumped up, grabbed my hand to shake it and said, "I'll take it, when can I move in?"
It turns out that Jayne had everything she owned in her car, and she had settled in within the hour. I offered to buy pizza and beer as a celebration of our new living arrangement. Since I was still unpacking my things and hadn't had an opportunity to get the kitchen set up, we sat at TV trays on the sofa and stuffed our faces with pizza and downed a six pack of beer as we watched TV and talked.
