I just figured out how I got here.
How I became addicted to voyeuring.
Where I live, sex is a relatively taboo subject. I was quite introverted and never had any luck with girls. I guess the sum of those factors has forced me to vent my horniness in a different way from how most other people do.
I'd always look at random girls on the street. As I look pretty ordinary, nobody would pay attention to me and I was never really caught. I'd try to see through translucent-looking blouses, taking careful note of what kind of bras they were wearing. I'd imagine them stripping their bras, their fingers unclasping the hooks and revealing their soft tender breasts. I was always curious how every girl's breasts would look like. Are their nipples tiny tanned buds? Or pointy, dark, eraser-type nipples? Knowing how much each and every girl value their bodies, the idea of them being unaware that if somebody has seen every square inch of them turns me on immensely.
I've tried many times to ignore my deepest and darkest fantasies but to no avail. They lurked on in the back of my mind, sometimes flashing up during my horny thoughts. But mostly I managed to keep it suppressed with "ordinary" porn. As I aged through the different stages of adolescence I kept myself busy with my work and life, only occasionally entertaining those criminal, perverted fantasies once in a long while.
I mean, there's no way I am going to act on them. Come on. I'm going to be caught like the rest of them countless voyeurs, peeping toms.
Or maybe not.
Gradually I got consumed by the idea. I began searching for articles on spycamming and peeping, trying to find a pattern among those voyeurs who were caught. They were careless, I convinced myself. Why use a spy pen, spy hook or spy alarm clock in a bathroom? They're the most obvious things not to be in a bathroom. Anyone with a decent mind will notice the disparity between those items and the bathroom. I thought, maybe they were so consumed by their desires that they acted on instinct without a plan.
Theirs were crimes of passion. They were bound to get caught.
Months, then years passed. I married the love of my life whom I've been dating for almost a decade and moved in to a new home. This was where my adventures began.
During our college years, we have a good mutual friend Priya. She is of Indian ethnicity, about 5'6" and has a great bubbly personality when among her friends. We kept in touch with her occasionally after college, meeting up for lunches, movies and whatnot. I've always noticed that she has a pretty hot and well proportioned body; she always wore a well-fitting blouse and a pair of denim shorts. Sometimes I got the opportunity to peek down her blouse when got to stand beside her seated. Her bosoms filled her lacy bra well enough that I couldn't see any hint of her nipples or areolae. When she ran or walked briskly, her breasts tended to jiggle with a mind of its own. I knew she had a pair of significant gems hidden under her clothing. She was and is still single. Knowing that she is probably saving her modesty for her future partner made me really aroused. What if I could see her hidden treasures before anyone else and she will never know about it? I felt a sense of dominance and control over her life. That turned me on immensely. This is the thrill of being a voyeur. Even at this very moment, as I type away on my computer, my dick is oozing precum just from recounting my voyeuristic encounters with her.
