The Voyeur

by

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Lesbian, Heterosexual, True Story, Humor, First, Oral Sex, Masturbation, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: He was a dirty pervert. His mother told him every day from the time she caught him masturbating at age twelve until he moved to get away from her. The girl of his dreams called him a pervert after she caught him ogling her near naked body as she tried to get a tan on her balcony. Then she ran over him and things got better.

"Oh Christ, another pervert tale...

He leaned on the balcony railing of his fifth floor apartment in order to get a better look down and across the way at the young woman lying in her balcony. On her back on a blanket, legs spread wide apart so her inner thighs could get a tan she was all he ever dreamed of.

Her goal was to attain a golden tan all over except for the minimum amount of flesh covered by her out of date string bikini. His goal was to see as much of her body as he could and fantasize about what he couldn't see. He rubbed his hard cock through the thin cloth his cut offs and wished he had the nerve to meet her.

He was average height and average build with a soft "spare tire" around his middle from too many Big Macs and French fries for lonely lunches and dinners eaten in the solitude of his apartment or at his desk at work. A lump came in his throat as he leaned out a little further and moaned his desire. She heard him and removed her eyeshades and looked up and across.

"You perverted creep!" she screamed up at him. "Go inside your apartment and jack off to the Playboy Channel or something." In one fluid movement she rose to her feet, grabbed her beach blanket and took her chubby, pleasingly plump ass inside. She managed to slam her sliding glass door shut loud enough for him to hear.

"Shit!" he bitched at himself. "She'll never come back outside again." He groused at himself for his lack of nerve. It was so unfair when he had so much to give and he didn't know how to give it. It was horrible to be so cowardly. He had seen the other guys at work hit in the girls in the office and make out like bandits. Christ, he couldn't even get up the nerve to ask their receptionist out and she, Melody Sanchez, had been had by everyone else in the office, even the lesbian in receivables, so the rumor went. It just wasn't fair.

Inside the apartment he removed his cut off sweats and tee shirt and lay down on the thick carpeting naked. Slowly he relaxed and closed his eyes. Gentle at first, he tentatively touched his sensitive uncut penis and slowly rubbed it to a satisfying hardness. Eyes still closed he began to rube a little harder and a little faster, savoring the delicious pangs of pleasure thrills coursing through his body.

He imagined his cute neighbor's naked, pudgy Venus mound bare and shaven. He saw himself as he buried his face between the puffy lips and exploded all over himself and the carpet. He lay there spent, panting hard as the feelings of guilt washed over him in angry waves. "She's right, I am a damned pervert," he told himself in disgust. He hurried into the bathroom and started the shower. Hurriedly he soaped up and washed the offending cum off his body. He rinsed and turned the water off and stepped out onto the bath mat. Quickly he dried off and dressed in jeans and a clean tee shirt.

He avoided looking at himself in the mirror as he exited the bedroom and hurried to the telephone on the end table at the end of the couch. He dialed a number by memory. "Ace Carpet Cleaners, how may I help you?" the voice on the phone asked.

"Ah, this is Daniel Carpenter. I have another stain on my loving room rug. Could you get someone over to clean it today?"

"This is Saturday and we only have one crew out working. There will be extra charge for me to re-book them to come to your apartment. Do you still have the same apartment?"

"Uh, yes. You have my credit card number from the last time, just put it on that one." He hung up and left the apartment, eyes avoiding the center of the heavy wool rug where he had just minutes before shot his cum. He was such a weak pervert. Even his mother told him time after time right up until he left home how disgusting such actions were after she caught him jacking of that one time when he was twelve. To have a professional carpet cleaner come in helped him lose his feelings of guilt.

He put his spare entrance key under the doormat as he left his apartment and rode the elevator to the ground floor. Head bent down he stepped out of the elevator as soon as it stopped and quickly walked to the rear of the building where his Gold Wing was parked. The big, beautiful full dress motorcycle was his pride and joy. He slipped his helmet on, started the engine and waited for it to warm up before he took off.

At the street he slowed, looked both ways and began to make a right turn toward the shopping center. Every time he got upset he went shopping for food, junk food. Next he'd stop at a fast food place and load up on junk burgers. After that he'd sit at home, all filled with another round of guilt because he had "weakened" and masturbated and then binged out on food. He was getting better, though, he had made it a whole six months this time before he weakened and jerked off.

Just as he was barely past the driveway leading to the apartment complex next door where she lived something slammed into the side of his pride and joy. He fell into a black whirlpool. Then there was nothing.

He awoke in a hospital bed. Both arms were in casts, his right leg in a cast. He hurt all over. "Oh God," he moaned, "What happened?"

"I ran over you," a tremulous voice answered his question. "And I'm sooo sorry!" He heard her begin to sob.

"I'm in a hospital," he stated numbly.

"Yes and its all my fault!" he stretched his neck and turned his head to see who was talking, or rather crying.

"You, you're, I mean you have a beautiful pus ... and it's all my fault!" he stretched his neck and turned his head to see who was talking, or rather crying."

"You, you're, I mean you have a beautiful pus ... face," he amended what he started to blurt out. God all mighty, even lying in bed he managed to fuck things up.

"You're the pervert," she said in wonder. "Er, I mean you're the peeping Tom who ... I mean you're you."

"Uh yes I am me," he answered and mentally kicked himself for not coming up with something quick and sharp to say.

"But you, but I but we, but..." she struggled for words. "Are you going to sue me?" she finally managed to get out. "I have insurance, but..."

"Oh no, I could never sue you, you're too ... ooh Jesus," he moaned as another pain shot through his body when he tried to gesture and move. Then the morphine drip kicked in and he began to feel happy and not hurt so bad. "I'm in love with your ass." A part of him was horrified that he had blurted out something like he just did. Another part of his mind thought it was great.

"Kiss me," he told her in a slurred voice and lost consciousness as the drugs took effect. Quietly she walked out of the room and went home.

Hours later he woke up. It was dark in the room so he closed his eyes and went back to sleep. The next time he woke up it was daylight. The day nurse, a friendly, graying woman of indeterminate years entered the room carrying a washbasin. She set it on the nightstand next to his bed and dipped the cloth in and rung it out. She washed his face gently. It felt good.

"Thank you," he said as she finished.

"Oh, I see you're more lucid this morning. How's the pain?" she asked in a motherly way.

"I feel it, but it seems so far away right now. I must still be loaded on whatever you stuck in my arm.

"Do you know where you are?" she asked.

"I guess I'm in a hospital." He looked at her; surprised she would ask such a simple question. He saw he write something on a chart.

"What's your name?" she asked carefully.

"Dan Carpenter," he answered.

She smiled and nodded and left as a tray of food was brought in by a young candy striper and placed on the over the bed table. " Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Not right now, thanks," he answered her. Right then food was the last thing on his mind. In fact, there was very little on his drugged mind. He lay there on his back and stared at the ceiling.

Then he heard her voice. "Hi, are you feeling better?" she asked.

"Uh huh," he answered.

"Don't you want anything to eat?" she asked.

He grinned and started to answer, then shut up. He tried again to control his tongue. "I think I'm loaded, you know, drugged out. You are beautiful."

She laughed self consciously, her voice tinged with sadness. "You must be loaded if you think I'm beautiful." She looked sadly at him.

"No, you are real sexy and when I look at you, well I just want to..."

"I know, I know," she interrupted him, " You already told me for three days. But that's not beauty, that's just animal lust."

"Woof," he said to her softly. "I'm trying to be careful of what I say, but I feel light headed and giddy. I know you don't look like some hungry model. You're sexy in a nice sort of way. That's why I was looking at you. I wanted to meet you and was too bashful and couldn't work up the courage. I'm glad you ran over me."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Nobody ever told me that before."

"Well, I bet you never ran over anybody before."

"No I haven't," she admitted.

"Well, anyway, if it had to be anybody in the whole world who run over me, I'm glad it was you." He squirmed in bed.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as she noticed his discomfort.

"I itch," he told her, "My belly itches."

"Ah yes," she said flatly.

"No, really, my stomach itches, real bad."

"And you want me to scratch it and make it all better. Now you sound like my jerk brother." She frowned at him.

"Ah, no, ah, yes, oh hell, I do itch and it's driving me nuts."

"Okay, I'll scratch it where you itch, but no smart remarks." She reached under the covers and started to delicately run her nails over his belly.

.... There is more of this story ...

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