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ok im a little bit of a voyeur
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ok im a little bit of a voyeur Jace was a watcher. He’d been a watcher for as long as he could remember. He was an observer of life. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy participating in life, because he did, but first and foremost, he was a watcher. Jace was a natural born voyeur. When he was a young boy of eleven, puberty hit him with a vengeance. His sexuality flipped on full force overnight. All he could think about night and day was girls and sex. He didn't know much about either, but his mind was filled with crazed lustful thoughts. He wanted something, and he wasn't sure exactly what that something was, but it motivated as well as haunted him. Jace remembered early in his rite of passage through puberty, being with his father on a fishing trip. They were wading a small, slow moving creek, looking for deeper fishing spots. It was the first time that Jace had noticed the sensual curviness of natural forms. Looking at the trees and shrubs, all he could see were female legs and crotches everywhere the limbs came together. The water in the creek flowed smoothly over the ancient worn rocks always peaking, and flowing over a grooved rock that looked to jace like a cool, mysterious, female crotch. Jace knew that men put their penises inside women's crotches during sex, but he was a little confused. Jace imagined the woman's body would feel wet and cool when he entered her. Dark, cool, wet and mysterious, those were Jace's first thoughts that described his understanding of a woman's sex. There was a girl next door whom Jace had a crush on, but she had no idea that anything was going on. She was basically oblivious to Jace in any romantic sense. Jace would watch her through his kitchen window as she walked in her yard. The way a girl moves is so different, thought Jace, Her body is just different. It was strange to him but he was attracted to her, and wanted her for himself. His heart felt like it might explode as his eyes followed her every move. He felt sad, wistful, excited, anxious, and was full of a strange, bittersweet longing. He had no way of deciphering, or explaining this feeling to anyone else, much less to himself. All he knew was that it caused him to cry, and long for something that seemed foreign, far away and unattainable. He was totally innocent, and didn't know what he was doing, but found that it felt good to play with his penis. One night as he was lying in bed, rubbing himself, something totally unexpected happened. He felt an incredible rush of pleasure surge through him as his penis jerked violently. A strange white cloudy liquid spurted from its tip. Jace didn’t have any idea what had just happened, but was afraid that he had hurt or damaged himself . He lay there as his penis jerked Involuntarily. Jace was scared, and felt incredibly guilty. A sense of having done something dark and taboo consumed him. He felt guilty, and vowed never to do it again, but wanted more than anything else to do it again immediately. For months afterward he would masturbate daily, and tried desperately to hide his guilty, self pleasuring. He would rush to the bathroom, lock the door, and furtively jerk off before anyone interrupted him, or became suspicious. He took showers at odd times, multiple times per day. He stayed in the shower much too long. He found out that soap or lotion made the experience more pleasurable, and made him come much quicker. Looking back, he was sure that at least his dad knew what was going on. He wasn't sure about his mother. Mothers have a way of not accepting the obvious truth about their , if it's disturbing to them in the least. Sometimes he would try to resist his urges, but was always unsuccessful. As he would resist, he started to hear music. Old church hymns from his youth would start playing in his head, and he was powerless to stop them. It's really weird thought Jace, the more he struggled to resist the<b> temptation </font></b>to masturbate, the louder and more insistent the music became. The only way that he could make the music stop was to either decide not to masturbate, or give in to the urge. Either way, once that he made a decision, the music stopped. It was as if all that the music demanded was resolution, and not a particular choice or outcome. Years passed and Jace was in high school in the locker room one evening after basketball practice. He was playing a prank by hiding from a teammate. He scrambled to find a spot to hide, and spotted the perfect place. Behind one set of lockers, there was a space of about 10 inches between the lockers and the wall. About a foot into the space, the area opened to more than two foot in width. If Jace could just push himself through the 10 inch opening, then he could pop into the wider area, and never be found. He ran over and squeezed himself through, and into the larger area. Looking around in the darkness he noticed bright light streaming into the area from the far corner, and went to investigate. About level with his shoulders was a crack about six inches long in the corner where two walls of concrete blocks came together. He stuck his nose into the corner, and closed one eye as he pressed his open eye against the crack. He heard the sound of water splashing against stone, and smelled a wonderful sweet, floral scent. He felt heat coming through the crack. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw an unbelievable sight! A pair of perfectly round, perky breasts, with pointy, upturned nipples were staring him in the face, not over two feet away. He was looking straight into a shower in the girls locker room. Those smooth tanned breasts belonged to the head cheerleader that all the guys lusted after. She was standing facing him, and the falling water, in a state of absolute innocent bliss. Her head was tilted back with her mouth slightly open, and her eyes closed. She had one leg bent at the knee, and her hands were held in a loose prayerful pose as the water sprayed against her breasts, and ran clean and glistening down her body. Her young, beautiful face was innocent and angelic. She looked pure, clean and smooth. He ached for the Chance to eat her alive. He longed to lick, caress and worship every square inch of her ‘goddess’ body. Such a holy vision, thought Jace, like a virgin madonna, whole, and totally innocent in her natural glory. Jace felt his cheeks sting as he blushed, feeling almost guilty for disturbing her. He quietly snuck away, and back into the locker room. Every time that Jace was alone in the locker room he would feel the urge to look through the crack in the wall. It always turned into an internal battle with part of him wanting to, and part of him not wanting to.The music would always start with the pressure to choose, and subside when a decision was made. Through the years Jace had realized that he was a watcher. He actually received vicarious pleasure from watching others receiving pleasure. Don’t get me wrong, he liked receiving pleasure too, but if you were to ask him which he enjoyed more, he would have to say watching. Another unusual aspect of Jace’s voyeurism was that it did not typically turn him on, and lead to masturbation. When he would watch the girls in the shower, he found it exciting and pleasant, but it wouldn’t lead to masturbation. Even when Jace would view porn, it almost never led to him feeling a need to relieve himself. There was some kind of strange fulfillment that he received just from watching others give and receive pleasure. |
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