He had been a voyeur for thirty years. When he was a boy he had a newspaper route, and early on he learned the benefits of being up and about in the wee hours of the morn. His route was in a large apartment complex and he spent many hours watching ladies showering and dressing. He found the best times to be in certain places to view his favorite ladies and tailored his paper deliveries accordingly. Then he discovered that if he came to collect his fees after dark he could watch ladies undressing before bed. He even found several opportunities to watch couples having sex. He was a confirmed peeping tom before he was 14, and he nurtured his hobby as he grew to manhood.
It got a little trickier as he got older. He had to be very careful in his movements; he didn't want to get caught. He chose locations that were far from main roads, preferably apartments that had bedrooms and bathrooms on the ground floor. He would prowl around the outer edges of the complex, looking for his chances, keeping an escape route through woods or behind other buildings. He was often successful in finding women who left their shades up just enough to let him watch them in their most intimate moments. He reveled in his hobby, and he kept the images he collected like jewels in a special memory place in his mind.
Sometimes he ached to touch the ladies he watched. Some were so lovely, so fine, that it was an effort to restrain himself from doing something he would regret, like speaking to them, telling them how hot they looked and how much he loved stroking himself while he watched them. One evening, he stood outside a bathroom window watching a young lady. She was obviously preparing herself for a night out, plucking eyebrows, fixing her hair. She was stark naked all through this, and he stood outside, not four feet away from her, watching and gently fondling his erection. Then she started the water for a shower, put her hair up to keep it dry, and stepped into the tub. She left the curtain open just enough so that he could watch every move she made under the streaming water. She lathered her entire body; he shuddered as he watched her smoothing her hands on her breasts.
As she rinsed off the suds he made ready to finish himself, but then stopped. She was reaching for the showerhead, detaching it. He watched amazed as she adjusted the spray, leaned back against the wall, placed her left foot on the soap rack, and directed the water onto her pussy. He almost cried out when he saw this! Here she was, this lovely young woman, naked and wet, masturbating in the shower and he got to watch! Here eyes closed as she played, her left hand spreading her lips apart while the right hand played the warm liquid over her delicate clit. She took her time, playing with the stream, while he furiously pumped his fist on his raging hardon. She began rocking her hips, squirming as the water pleasured her. She gasped, moaned, grit her teeth and grunted, and he knew she had cum. He let his own cum blast out onto the wall of the building, feeling like a beast marking his territory. He kept that memory for a long time; it was his favorite.
At least, it was his favorite until he saw the Librarian. He loved books, he loved to read, and he regularly went to the public library to browse. He was forever scoping out the ladies and he especially like watching one of the young aides, a high school girl with perky tits that begged to be fondled. He often pondered how his two hobbies, voyeurism and books, came together so neatly.
Then he saw the new librarian. She was behind the desk, being taught procedures by the wizened hag of a head librarian. The new librarian was stunning, tall, about 5'10', he guessed her age at 32 - 35, raven hair piled in a bun, dark complexion (he guessed Italian or Greek, maybe Arabic). She wore a very smart jacket over a tan sweater. He mentally willed her to take off the jacket so that he could judge her breasts - and she did! Shrugging off the coat she placed it over a chair and went back to listening to her boss. Now hw could see her torso and he gave glory to God for his sense of sight. She had a great rack, must be 38C, and straining to break loose. He tried not to stare, but it was a difficult task to remain nonchalant when presented with this spectacle.
As he watched, the two women came out from behind the desk and started to tour the library. He again gave praise in no uncertain terms as he gazed upon the perfection that was the new librarian's body. A skirt, hanging just above the knee, clung to her form. She had a curving hourglass figure and her hips swayed as she walked. Her legs were awesome in sheer nylons, her wore black heels that accentuated her legs and ass. He so wanted to reach down and masturbate as he watched her walk about the room, but he stayed very calm as a plan formed in his mind. He stood up and walked out, grinning slyly to himself.
