Even as an adolescent I was a pervert. I spent half my life trying to peek into neighborhood windows and the other half jacking off. The summer I turned 15, I snuck out my window almost every night. I was drawn to other lighted windows like a moth to a flame.

After a while I developed a routine. There were several women who always undressed around the same time every night. There was one set that usually went to bed between 10 and 11. I would check them out, return to my house and jack off in my old tree fort, then prowl around again between 12 and 1 when the younger girls had curfews. It was a great scam, but it got boring after awhile. It was also pretty wearing to worry about getting caught.

Then one night my parents were out at a party. I didn't know when they'd be home, so I had to stay in. But as soon as they arrived and checked in on my supposedly sleeping self, I flew to the window and out into the night.

I didn't get far, though, because as I crossed the back yard, I noticed my parents' light still on. "What the hell!" I thought.

I was soon rewarded. Their shade was pulled down, but left a 2-inch gap at the bottom. Through this gap I could see my Mom at her dressing table. Dad was nowhere in sight, but the door to their adjoining bathroom was closed. She was taking off her jewelry, and was clad only in a bra and panties. Instant hard-on.

I don't know why I hadn't noticed before, but my Mom had an awesome body. At 36, her waist was slim, her thighs were taut and shapely, and her tits were huge. As I watched with unrestrained glee, she stood up and crossed to the closet, unhooking her bra on the way. She took it off, tossed it on a chair and reached for her nightgown. As she turned back toward the bed, she pulled the nightgown over her head and those magnificent mams disappeared from view. It had only lasted 30 seconds, but I was hooked.

After that I took every opportunity I could to spy on my Mom. Usually, however, that blind was pulled all the way down. Finally I snuck in one day, took it down, and re-rolled it so that it would always leave a gap. But still my peep shows were limited to 30 seconds of titty. I began to hunger to see more.

Finally, after hours and hours of thought and sneaky reconnoitering, I decided to actually drill a peephole into their bathroom, which abutted my closet. So one afternoon, with Dad at work and Mom away shopping, I stood on a folding chair in my closet and drilled a quarter-inch hole high up into their bathroom. My target was a raised light fixture up on the wall. My first effort, though, ran into the metal back of the medicine cabinet right next to the fixture. I ran around to their room and checked it out. The small dimple I had made was above the top shelf, virtually unnoticeable and only 3 inches away from my original target. Measuring carefully, I returned to my room, re-drilled the hole and finally broke through.

Once again I returned to the bathroom. I carefully cleaned up the plaster dust and checked out the hole. It was only visible from the glassed-in shower, and then only when the light didn't glare in your eyes, and even then you had to be looking for it.

That very afternoon, my work and planning were rewarded. Mom returned home, stuck her head in to say "Hi" and minutes later I heard the water start.

I jumped on the folding chair and leaned toward the hole. Sure enough, Mom was just stepping into the shower. I almost fell off the chair - finally I was seeing her completely nude and it was awesome! Her bush was red, like her hair. The water cascaded off her proudly jutting breasts. And when she soaped herself - wow!

From then on, I never went out at night. I just hung around, hoping to see my Mom. Usually, she showered in the morning. This fit in perfectly with my early-morning boner, which I jacked off as I watched her.

Then one afternoon, Mom was getting ready to go out that evening. I enjoyed the matinee, then when she left the shower, I retreated to my bed to jack off.

A few minutes later I heard Mom's blow dryer shut off. I didn't think anything of it until the door to my room suddenly flew open. It was my worst (best?) nightmare -- Mom caught me with my dick in my hand.

"All right mister," she snapped, "pull up those pants. You've got some explaining to do."

I jumped off my bed and stuffed my dick back into my shorts.

"I was heating up my curling iron and drying my hair when the fuse blew. Imagine my surprise to see a pinhole of light up on the wall. Let's see," she continued heading for the closet, "if I've got it figured right, the other side of that hole should be...Ah HAH!"

She had found the folding chair and, as my heart sank, she climbed it and put her eye to my peep-hole.

"Well, well," she said "Front row center for Mom starring in 'Shower Time.' Well," she added, coming back into my room, "what have you got to say for yourself?"

"Uh, umm, I, ah, was, uh, curious," I stammered.

"My ass!" she shot back, "you're an oversexed little degenerate."

"Yes, I am," I admitted.

She seemed to be taken aback by such an admission. I guess she expected me to fight back and deny. "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do with you," she continued, "But while I think it over, run downstairs and get the spackle. You're damn lucky your Dad didn't find this. I'll talk to you about this later." And she left.

As I got the spackle form the basement, I realized that I was pretty lucky. She didn't really blow her stack and, best of all, she apparently wasn't going to tell Dad.

That evening as they were leaving for the party, Mom winked at me and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "No remodeling while we're gone, okay?"

"Okay," I grinned and whispered back.

That night I went right to bed and slept through to the next morning....

... when I was awakened by Mom coming into my room. She had just come from her shower and had on a white terry-cloth robe and had her hair wrapped up in a towel. She sat on the edge of my bed and started talking.

"I was taking my shower and, naturally, thinking about your little escapade. I wanted to ask you a few things. First of all, what ever possessed you to do this?"

I decided my best net was to play it straight with her, so I backed up and told her the whole story, starting with my voyeurism, through to the point where I drilled my hole. She listened in silence, not appearing shocked or disgusted at all.

After I stopped talking, she considered a minute, then said, "But you still haven't answered my question. Does voyeurism excite you?"

"Yes," I answered in a small voice.

"Does it get you off?"

"Um, yeah."

"Do you masturbate?"

"Uhhh..."

"Did watching me excite you?"

"Ummm...."

"Did you masturbate after watching me?"

"Errr...."

"Oh, come off it, Don, I walked in here and saw you. There's nothing wrong with what you're telling me. They seem to be the natural, healthy urges of a guy your age. And I wanted to apologize about calling you a degenerate yesterday."

"But, I spied on you and then jacked o-, er, masturbated."

"There's nothing wrong with the term 'jacked off', or the action for that matter. Everyone does it."

"But Dad told me last year that most guys don't. He said that men should be able to control those urges. He doesn't jack, uh, off."

"Part of your Dad's problem is that he's too uptight. That's really why I was angry at you for taking such a stupid chance. I'm also angry at him now for filling your head with such nonsense.

Your Dad is the exception; most people do masturbate. Honestly, sometimes I'm surprised I could interest your Dad in sex long enough to have you."

"So you and Dad don't really, uh, too often."