It was known as "The Club". No, not the contraption which saves your automobile from being stolen. Not a book of the week, panty of the month or basket of cheer club.
Just "The Club".
There were three members of The Club: William, Danny and me, Jonathan. Three teenagers
who met it high school and then moved onto the local community college. We were buds, we drove to Fort Lauderdale for spring break, we traded stories and dreams. That was a long time ago, 23 years ago.
I hadn't thought about The Club in years until scanning the local newspaper and noticing an eye-catching story. A local janitor had been arrested and convicted of improper behavior at a local college, having been caught in the act of viewing young ladies in various stages of undress through a peephole in his office.
As bad as it sounds, I felt bad for the poor guy. Heck, what guy doesn't want to be a voyeur, "looking behind the curtain", as it were, watching the beautiful young women bare all in front of his inquisitive eyes?
Since the statute of limitations is long gone, I can confess to you that The Club was formed just for that one voyeuristic reason --- to spy on young ladies.
It happened by accident during our freshman year at the college. The three of us were looking to get involved into a school activity, but nothing sounded good until Danny mentioned the basketball team. Now, mind you, none of the three of us were basketball team material, but one of his jock friends mentioned the team needed managers, and we thought that hanging around the sidelines might just give us a bit to talk about when we attended parties around campus.
We'd become hangers on, but knowledgeable hangers on. As part of our duties we were in charge of the equipment room, the place where the ball cart and extra practice jerseys were held. It was also the location of the excess football and other sports equipment, but in the late fall it was vacant in the evenings while the team was practicing.
On one of those nights the coach asked me to check around for a new clipboard, as he was unhappy with the play of the team and broke his current one over a chair in disgust. While Danny and William entertained themselves with shooting free throws at an unused part of the gym, I strode back to the equipment room to see what I could dig up. Opening the door with my master key, I began hunting through the room. I didn't find a clipboard, but I did hear what sounded to be females laughing in the room next door before being drowned out by a shower.
I stared at the wall, then realized it was the girl's locker room! Immediately my mind wandered as my eyes darted around the wall, wondering...
Ok, ok, I'm a lousy pervert. I slipped over to the door, closed it, locked it, then went over to the wall separating the equipment room from the locker room. I checked that wall from stem to stern, looking high and low for any sign of eye entry into the nirvana which lay behind the wall. I wanted to look, I needed to look, and voila, while standing atop a table in the corner of the room I found it: a small, three-penny nail-sized hole in the wall about seven feet off the ground.
What drew me to the area was the appearance of two picture-hanging nails separated by about two feet, but no picture. It appeared there had been a picture there at one time, but it had been taken away. In the middle of the two nails was this small hole, and upon closer inspection, I noticed it there was indeed a small glasslike nob on the opening. It was some sort of a wide-angled glass, because looking at it opened up a large piece of the girl's showers in their lockerroom next door!
My eye was glued to the viewer as I watched two, then three, college girls washing off the sweat and grime from whatever activity they were involved in. I didn't recognize any of the naked girls, but my eyes were opened wide as I saw the soap and suds and breasts and pussies and asses and oh la la!
Instant hard on.
I watched for several minutes then vacated my spying location --- once my hard on subsided --- and went back to practice. There, greeted with catcalls of "you couldn't find your ass with both hands", I admitted I hadn't been able to find the clip board. But I must have looked guilty, because after practice Danny pulled me aside with William and popped a question.
"What the heck got into you, Jon? You were acting weird out there," asked my friend Danny. One thing I found from my friendship with these two guys is that we prided ourselves to have a little of the Three Musketeers, All for One, One for All philosophy. After a bit of prodding, and with their assurance that whatever I told them would be our secret, I took them to the equipment room.
The air conditioning unit was going full blast, so there was no sound of laughter like earlier, but when I related my story they laughed and told me I was nuts. That's when I showed them the peephole. And while there wasn't a soul in view, they surmised, as did I, that someone had rigged up a neat little spying point. After the discovery we spoke about the find. We agreed that if someone else, anyone else, knew of the peephole, word would get out and we'd be caught, expelled, or worse. We talked about how we would have to be discrete. Rules made, the next 24 hours were quite exciting for each of us. We wanted to test our new discovery, yet we didn't want to do anything that would be deemed suspicious behavior.
When the coach told the team to knock off early, we began shelping equipment to the
room down the hall. Once inside the locked room, I glanced through the peephole, and while
nobody was in the shower there were girls in various stages of undress in the background.
One girl had humongous tits, a fact I mentioned to the guys before being shoved out of the
way for them to view.
"My god, it's Cathy Gallagher, what knockers," said Danny. "She's a friend of my sister and a real bitch. Stephanie says she's a real cock-teaser, and that she runs through guys like water down a mountain. Everyone puts up with it because they want a chance at feeling those melons!"
Those untouchable boobs were right before my eye in all their glory, bouncing as she washed herself. I hate to admit it, but each rock and roll of her breasts sent shivers down my spine and blood into my dick. It was so wrong, but so very right. Over the next several weeks we paid a great deal of attention to the girls sports teams, observing the faces of the women and making mental notes of the girls we'd like to see in the altogether. And spy on them we did, even going so far as designing a little rating scale for each, Imagine that, three geeks who wouldn't stand a chance at dating some of these women seeing them in the nude.
There was something special about watching the girls sports team practice, isolating our attention on a couple of the best-looking women, and then retreating to the privacy of our equipment room to spy on our favorites. It wasn't always a cornucopia of flesh. Many times we spied and saw nothing, other times we were at the tail end of things and the girls were mostly dressed. But on those
occasions --- timing is everything --- we got to see a strip show and shower by some of the
college's finest ladies, and no dollar bills changed hands.
There were a few embarrassing moments, like the time Danny and I couldn't find William