My Voyeur Addiction

My hunt for sightings for the private essences of females has been my addiction and with the advent of internet, discovering voyeur website and the scope of sex in all senses freely available, I learned more in techniques and equipment, moving on to a voyeurism addiction.

I became a practising voyeur in the late 90s; meaning many times I would go out with hidden cameras, I got used to where the best places were as my main point of interest was the view up skirt to the crotch of females. Searching for mini cameras that could be attached to helmets etc. for recording our annual ski holidays and other sport, I realised that the equipment I bought were perfectly adaptable for concealing. I practised many times with them at home using myself and my wife Carol as models, she unknowing, to test the motion detection and field of view.

When I ventured forth into the wide world to capture up skirts, the best but really risky places because of more and more CCTV cameras were shopping malls, but equally good were street festivals without as much CCTV coverage. Other than those, the streets between them were good, particularly capturing a tasty chick in a mini skirt on the move. I became very adept at following them, my bag swung low between the striding legs. If legs and bag contacted and the target looked round I would just apologise, swing the bag away and drift away - searching for the next unsuspecting female.

I became expert.

I would target as many women of all ages, certainly not kids and yes occasionally a smartly dressed elderly lady, aiming to pass over Nora Batty style saggy stockings. I would use two mini cams, the same as I would use indoors where they could work on motion and sound sensitivity, but could be switched on for 90 minutes and then edited at home on the computer. Buying two initially saved me using up battery when being in the middle of exciting prospects out in the street and having to pack in activities

One cam was fixed, they had built in clips, in a well thought out particular corner of a well practised shoulder bag with a strap so I could carry it easily and then drop it down to hem level or near ground level. A perfect prime place behind a female would be a checkout queue, where I could budge it along on the floor with my foot. To catch nice bums and knickers while in their preoccupation unloading the produce was a bonus. The bag was chosen to be slim enough to slot between unsuspecting legs and often hoisted up to near the hem. The other identical cam was clipped to my shirt to try and capture the view of the target's face and upper body which to me was an essential and final feeling of hitting the jackpot. Editing the result and combining them was an essential job when I got home.

These cams were matt black, about 50 millimetres long and 20 millimetres wide and thick and could be motion and sound sensitive if needed, but motion was essential in a fixed place either at home or elsewhere I desired a peep. The home peeping via cameras was a later idea.

My initial purchase was several years before the two mobile cameras described above. It was when I first pricked up interest from the voyeur websites and risked a small investment in an early motion/sound detection camera for indoors, disguised as smoke alarms or baby alarms and not meant to be tucked secretly away but in full view. It was hard wired to a video cassette recorder, with the attendant bulk and operating noises, when the cassettes were actioned which caused me a lot of problems, not being practical or electrically minded. The main issue with it and I secretly bought a cheap used one from a local dealer, was cushioning the clicks and whirring sounds emanating from its mechanism. I concealed it high on a shelf, sitting on some carpet samples which worked. I trialled it on myself and then on unsuspecting ladies who visited us. It was amusing to picture my naked genitals on the TV screen as that was how we played video cassettes, after I had trialled the unit. That gave me great anticipation for any female captures.

****

The first was Claire, aged 25, a tall, bulky though curvaceous in all the right places, blonde acquaintance, who requested a stay over at our place at a gathering she didn't want to miss as we had guests over from the Channel Islands who she knew very well, and she needed to be away early the next morning, promising to do so without disturbing Carol and I when she advised the time for her departure. It was a slightly strange and comical having two same named females in the house. She was aiming to catch a train to London to meet Barry, her serious boyfriend who couldn't make the party During the day I rigged up the "smoke alarm" on my desk, the room served as our guest room, with an inflatable bed at the time due to internal work in the house.

Claire was statuesque, hazel eyed, bubbly with a vivacious, thick lipped, highly painted mouth. During the evening I ogled in feverous anticipation her over the top friendliness, popularity and desirability amongst our male guests. Claire showed no interest in any of the chaps, some of them working hard to pull her. She was wearing a rather formal black, low cut, knee length dress, with ruched sleeves. Her tits were pushed up providing a delectable, bare balcony of perfectly smooth upper knocker domes, which during an earlier quick recce of her room and bag, I determined were 40B from one clean white bra and new, in the shop bag, pristine, size 14 panties.

Carol and I had woken, aroused at 6am, as you do in your own place. She got up and saw the girl off, I stayed in bed and ruminated. It was much later that Sunday when I was alone for a good time and viewed the replay. It was a cracker.

Claire had slept in a white tee-shirt and as she was collecting her stuff to go to the bathroom, her breasts rolled about freely with very erect nipples. The hem of the shirt was thigh length and below desktop but when she returned and stripped off the shirt and a pair of black briefs, moving around sorting her things, I was rewarded with sumptuous views of her naked body in all it's glory. It was lit by natural light when she had peeped then sussed out the fact that the window couldn't be overlooked, except by someone, half a mile away, through an oak tree copse, up a tree with binoculars and drew open the blind.

Her mammoth boobs were oiled lovingly, as was her whole body. Claire had a bit of a belly, but below was a lush thatch of dark, untrimmed pubes. She opened her legs, thrusting her groin forward and applied some special lotion to her inner thighs, maybe they rubbed together and caused discomfort and I caught glimpses of her cunt lips which weren't out of the ordinary. Claire moved to the small basin and presented her back and bum to me, cleaning her teeth, cheeks wobbling, but no sight up towards her back passage between those chubby globes. She dressed into the same brassiere and new knickers, donned a black patterned tee-shirt, tight denims, trainers, packed and left the building.

****

The second time I used the original disguised as an alarm camera was when we held a big party (not the first party by any means). It was always me who made the invitation for single folk to stay over and of course I was choosy and two people in that spare room wouldn't work. Debbie accepted my offer to stay over rather than drive home. I picked on her as she was good fun, plain, not outstandingly attractive and intrigued on why she always wore all enveloping clothes, you can see where my fascination with all things female led me; they didn't have to be gorgeous pin ups. I think she was 38 and divorced..

As we all retired after a stonking boozy party, Debs took possession of the spare room, I had nipped from the party to switch the single camera on having carefully positioned it at bust level on a shelf above my desk early in the day. She had a substantially made and locked travel bag, so I didn't risk trying to infiltrate it and see if there were any most likely clean knickers in it. I looked forward to viewing the video much later during the following Sunday when we had cleaned up, Debs had left and Carol shopped. It was extremely disappointing but compelling in that she wore very plain underwear, the cam only picked up the waistband of her white panties her legs were below desk level, but the one tit -one tit! she had was very very small with a cute little pale nipple.

It was obvious she had had a mastectomy on her right boob. The scar was minimal, they wouldn't have to remove much once the tumour was located. Poor Debs.

****

The later mobile cameras also used indoors provided many many glorious views and wanking sessions.

For instance, our neighbours experienced a small fire in their house at about 6.30 one evening and we neighbours pulled together, with Carol suggesting that Erin, their gorgeous, sweet, innocent in many ways I found out, 18 year old daughter could stay in our guest bedroom for as long as necessary but it turned out for two nights.

George and Ann have three other cracking daughters, two at the local comprehensive school and the oldest who I think works in the fashion industry in London. That one is an attractive bleached blonde stunner, with pin-up legs, always in the skimpiest of skirts which displays her gorgeous legs to maximum effect and the round butt which wobbled with her steps , highest stilettos, quite outrageous dress, for this area and drives a modern white VW Beetle. It was rare to see her but she occasionally visits her parents and due to the tight parking out on the road her car was right outside our house one overnight into morning. I was just pulling the curtains back in the front lounge at about 7.30am that Monday morning and there she was, packing her car, she'd been around all weekend, judging by the car being local since Friday, reaching far into the car and providing me and maybe other neighbours with a saucy view right up her skirt, trailing over those gorgeous limbs and flashing her magnificent arse cheeks and slip of a thong that was wedged right up her crack.

George and Ann, Erin's parents, were put up next door, the other way in a bungalow. I couldn't believe my luck - thank you darling.

Erin was about 5'7"tall, sporting a fantastic, curvaceous, figure and was exceptionally beautiful notwithstanding a full, straight nose and the slightest overbite. Her dark brown eyes smouldered and with her growing expertise in make-up she looked very continental. She would go to university to study marine biology having captured a place in the west country, although she was disastrous in terms of common sense, whereabouts, travel, travel times, street life and even cooking. I lusted after her daily, watching out for when she would waft by going to and from the bus stop. The tiniest of tight skirts, those long lissom legs striding purposely out and her curvy tits proudly jutting forth, bouncing as she paced the footpath. She was aware of her good looks and figure, no doubt about that. Never in my mind did I think I would see intimate details of her naked body, but I did.

She stayed the first night but I had no time to set up the room cams apart from helping wifey to prepare for our guest. Make up the bed, clean the room, clean the bathroom, put towels available add tissues bedside and open the windows, it was high summer and we had other things to do away from the house. Erin trotted off in the morning to her part time job at Sainsburys and I knew there would be a useful space in the day when I would be alone in the place and plotting. She was due to meet her parents later when they were to be given dinner at one of the neighbours. The fire had been small, mainly chimney but made life difficult for two days.

Knowing the room well, I set too and placed the cams. I set one low down but trained slightly upwards, I often used Blu Tack, amongst some book on a bedside table and the other one on a shelf adjacent to the main mirror hoping to capture her lush body as she undressed and dressed. Satisfied with them I explored her travel bag and found pretty, light grey, matching bra and panties, both unworn, 38 C cup and size 12 big girl. Scrunched up in the depths of the folds was a similarly designed dirty pair of panties and I smelled them deeply, enjoying for once a teenage cunt scent, tangy, sweet and ever so slightly pissy and I wanked into them, letting my cum spread over the wrinkled but unstained cotton gusset.

She came in after seeing her parents and we all chatted as the TV news rolled on. I nipped upstairs and switched the cams on. Erin went off to bed and so did we and for the second time I played with my erect nipples knowing that a strikingly attractive girl was lying - naked maybe, in the room next door.

Sods fucking law meant that our activities the following day ruled out the chance of me seeing Erin's bare beautiful body, so another 24 hours passed including her going back home. Annette dropped in a bottle of wine and some chocolates in thanks. Carol's weekly day out in the Forest left me alone in high anticipation after she had stripped the bed Erin had slept in. I did wonder if there had been any signs and stains where she had played with her twat. I would have looked; a possible stray pubic hair would have been a bonus but I am certain Carol wouldn't look as close as me and she certainly didn't mention anything. The cams were still safely in place. A quick scan didn't reveal any objects of clothing she had left, so the videos were edited and viewed. I couldn't have been more overjoyed.

The mirror level cam gave me superb views of Erin stripping off yet more matching undies as in her bag. Full, firm, upstanding breasts quivered while cleaning her make-up, her erect in the cool air nipples standing proud and dark, matching her dark brunette colouring. While she moved around finding her pyjamas I got her lower half via the second cam and was utterly stunned and pleasured with her full dark bush; not a sign of modern trimming or waxing. I always had thought that kids of today were guided in sex matters by what they saw on porn and that was bare shaved cunts, but not the lovely innocent Erin. Long fine hairs shrouded her mott but then the lovely girl thrilled me more than many of my captures by deciding to set an alarm or something on her i4 phone and then place it on the bedside table.

Of course I had placed a camera on the low shelf eyeing upwards aiming to get the lower parts of her body, but when Erin squatted, fucking legs apart, low down as she placed her high spec device and some of her books and a glass of water carefully, I was treated with a complete sighting of her gash and what a gash.

Her pubic bush parted and the reward for my planning was just the sort of fanny I prefer. Thick outer labia, dangled a good inch away from the lesser formed inner labia and surrounding flesh that makes up the nirvana of the true voyeurs paradise. Now I've never seen a junior pussy apart of course my own daughter's when she was a babe, but this was a mature, 18 going on 19 old vagina with all the desired accoutrements chaps like me like to see. Real beef curtains.

Needless to say I saved and savoured that scene for a long time.

****

During a mid-summer we acquired a new neighbour in our row of Victorian terraces. Impressive car with personalised plates which go well with her smartly coiffed, greying, blonde, shoulder length hair, mature about early 60s figure and what I would call a Theresa May taste in high design shoes. Carol had chatted to her a couple of brief times out on the footpath, finding she has taken over her daughter and son-in-law's house as it was getting to small for their growing family. Madge works part-time at the local Nuffield hospital as a consultant's secretary

When we downsized into our cottage 18 years ago, I found I could snoop on the gardens from our loft conversion, which is much higher of course, mainly looking out for naked, semi-naked or whatever clad sights of neighbouring females. It was more or lees a blank in those terms, the shrubbery and trees kill any views of the lawns and reclining areas in all cases, but the one thing that did give me the occasional thrill was right next door. It was occupied by a couple our age, Bill and Brenna, not them, but when their attractive, dark haired granddaughter Natasha stayed over a few days which was regular, Brenna would hoist her old fashioned washing line high on its pulleys and somewhere amongst the billowing sheets, towels, bloomers and Y-Fronts etc. there would be little snippets of skimpy, nearly always black or dark coloured undies fluttering busily in contrast to the heavier material knickers and underpants.

Natasha is a professional dog walker with her own business, engaged to Kurt her German horticulturist - great couple.

****

Two doors further now is Madge, who also favours the same garden gadget as Brenna. I can't see much more than her head if she's in her garden, but I can see her clean washing and it's a bonus as Natasha's skimpies are about once a month and Madge's are much more frequent.

Full washing lines or rotators have been a long term eye catcher for me, scanning them for female undergarments. There are some men who thrive on pinching from them but that's never occurred to me - they would have to be dirty and smelly to attract me.

Madge's line features gorgeous, modern, various materials, colourful and in some cases very frilly knickers, panties and on the occasional day a thong. Fuck! She's an attractive divorced woman, sexy with it - a thong! Her brassieres are fulsome in size often matching the colours of the knickers and equally frilled or patterned. My highly expensive, German, bird watching binoculars, that's a nice similitude, can focus on the labels, in most cases the sizes are not discernible, but makers labels are and tend to be unknown to me Italian.

Across the road from our house are highly coveted council allotments and from the front bedroom there is a good panoramic view. I have seen the odd glance of meaty buttocks with what they call builders bums but in these cases the tops of panties. The binoculars come in handy again, but the best catches are usually cleavage wobbling and the dark crevasse between breasts of lady gardeners, although I would rather see a lady garden!

The allotment local manager hires in foreign workers to do heavy stuff, alterations with paths, rebuilding etc. and the patch holders can hire them to do more work related to their patches. A particular activity caught my attention on a not easy to view, medium sized patch, well sheltered from my view with two apple trees, over on the farthest side and to me it looked as if one of the foreigners, a very skinny but wiry muscled lad was tending to spend a lot of time inside a new shiny bright steel shed. When shirtless, the contrast of highly tanned exposed, wiry flesh against the white of covered skin was dramatic. Sometimes the allotment holder, a mature, scruffy, dressed head to toe including a cap of camouflage gear - but I think female, would be in there with him, maybe potting out, planting or some such thing growers do. I couldn't determine who she was.

Carol and I went away abroad for a month and a day or two after returning I renewed my addiction of voyeurism at every opportunity - first upstairs. My wife renewed her passion of the garden, the over abundance of green vegetables for instance, I was stunned and delighted. Across the road, actually gathering plums was Madge, just behind the small fence and hedge signifying the allotment boundary. She was wearing the same camouflage pants and heavy boots, but she had shed the green grey shirt and wore a tight white tee-shirt - Oh bliss!

While tending to the small patch of garden, her pride and joy, at the front of our place Carol had spotted her and came upstairs to wash and change to go shopping, telling me what I had already found out. Luckily I didn't have the binoculars with me and could easily bluff my reason for being in the bedroom. She got ready, I got on with a job and off she went so I resumed peeping and I could see her chatting to Madge. Later she told me, Madge had switched plots to be literally across the road from her new abode, therefore much more convenient. Suited me too.