My First Voyeur Experience

My parents were in the habit of volunteering my to babysit for their friends, something I found annoying because I was often not paid and when I was my parents deducted what I got from my pocket money, which after I left school meant what they allowed me to keep out of my wages.

Carol was a case in point, she never paid, or if she paid my parents I never saw it. She was a single mother, rather a rarity where we lived, it meant nothing to me other than the fact my parents seemed to do a lot of gossiping about her, at some point though they must have befriended her because I was offered up to look after her kids about once a week. They were young kids and it was easy, she would put them to bed before I got there, she would leave and I rarely heard from them.

Carol sometimes did not come back until after midnight, in which case I was supposed to leave, locking the door behind me. I know that sounds odd in this day and age but that was the routine.

I was nosey and would always prowl the houses I was in. Carol's was something of an oddity in that it was a tip. She seemed incapable of putting clothes away, they were all over her bedroom, the bathroom and even the living room. I was accustomed to rooting in knicker drawers to handle the underwear of the woman of the house, taking a dark thrill from trying them on myself and lying on their bed, imagining I was them, and that I was having sex.

Sex was still a total mystery to me, my father had successfully kept me from virtually any contact with boys by confining me to a girls only school, and even after I left and started work at the local shop he only allowed it because he thought the guy who ran it was "A fucking Pouf." To my father the world was drowning in poufs, anyone who did not get their hands dirty as part of their work was a ponce, anyone who did not speak with a broad Yorkshire accent was a pouf, since Liam at the shop qualified on both counts he was promoted to a Fucking Pouf and therefore safe around his virginal daughter.

Sex for me was based on brief glimpses on TV before my father roared in rage and changed the channel and launched into a tirade about porn on the TV. Sex was huddled conjecture in the play ground with other equally clueless girls, sex was speculation and fear and dark longing.

In the bedroom of these other women, wearing their underwear and looking at my still thin and gangling form in the mirror I tried to imagine what they did, how much it hurt. From my inadequate education I thought sex was what men forced girls to do and they only did it because they wanted to please their man. Even though I had now turned 18 I made no attempt to defy my father, I wanted no man emotionally blackmailing me into letting him have sex with me.

So it was a puzzle as always why as looked at the lacy panties and bra clasped about me I felt the heat rising in me and I would lie back on the marriage bed trembling with my knees up and stroke myself through the panties and imagine the hand was not mine.

With Carol a new twist occurred to torment me. She was very untidy and worn clothing was always scattered about the bedroom. On this occasion I retrieved bra and panties from the floor and was startled to catch a scent rising from them. The bra was perfumed which puzzled me until I suddenly realised she must perfume her breasts. My gaze looked solemnly at me in the mirror as I digested the meaning of that, Carol could only do so because she anticipated a man getting close enough to her breasts to smell the perfume. I knew about perfume from my father, he called it tramp juice and it was only ever worn by women to trap men.

The panties I raised to my face, wondering if they too were perfumed, my mind a jumble at what that would indicate. But the scent I got was more subtle and strangely familiar. I pressed the gusset to my nose and breathed deep and my head swam and suddenly I recognised it, it was how my hand smelt after those illicit helpless stroking sessions.

In part trance I stripped and pulled on the worn underwear and the scent of her perfume rose up around me and I seemed to feel the dampness of her in the panties. I lay on the bed and whispered, "I am Carol, I have perfumed my breasts so they smell nice for you when you kiss them, and my pussy is wet and ready for you." My hand scrabbled between my legs but it was not enough, there was a terrible deep itch set in me, instinctively I grabbed a pillow and jammed it between my legs and clamped it tight with my legs, then turned on my front and ground my hips against it until that itch was being soothed by the bucking of bum, I moaned and took off the bra and pulled another pillow under me so my breasts rubbed against it and I had to bite it to stop from screaming as a tidal wave filled up my belly and then rushed to drown that itch in exquisite foaming hot water.

To my horror at that precise moment I heard the front door open and Carol speaking to someone. In blind panic I scrambled off and grabbed up my clothes, but as I hastily kicked off her panties, I heard high heels tapping quickly up the stairs. Nude I dived under the bed in blind panic.

The door opened and I saw Carol's trim legs walk into the room. She always wore a short skirt when she went out, and even in my dire straits I realised that I could see right up it to the dark section of her tights and even her skimpy lace panties, ones I had worn a couple of times, enjoying the rough texture of the lace on my pussy.

I waited for the outraged explosion when she would spot the tangled pillows and my clothes scattered about, but it did not come, her legs had stopped and I was looking at the back of her heels. Unable to bear the suspense I slid carefully close to the edge so I could see what she was doing. She was stood at her dressing table, piled high with clothes as usual, leaning down slightly and touching up her lipstick. For one horrible moment I was sure our eyes met in the mirror, but she just smacked her lips, straightened up and twisted from side to side, examining herself, she had on a tight thin sweater with a low neck that showed a creamy crease of cleavage. The shoes then pattered back out, leaving the door open.

Shaking a little with shock I crawled out and hastily pulled on my clothes. I heard Carol laugh downstairs and a deep male voice. I stood, trying to decide what to do, saunter downstairs and pretend I had been in the bathroom? Try and sneak out the front door at the bottom of the stairs?

While I was trying to decide I heard heels coming upstairs again and Carol called out in a low voice. "I won't be a minute." I panicked and dived back under the bed. The shoes came back into the room and the bed above me creaked, peering out at the mirror I saw she had sat on it and was looking at the mirror too, it seemed impossible she could not see me even in the shadows. Curiosity was fighting with sheer terror, she just sat there, doing nothing, then she cocked her head to one side, listening.

I heard it too, soft creaks as someone crept up the stairs. In the mirror Carol smiled and stood up, with a blur of static she stripped off her sweater, tossed it down right by my face where the familiar scent of her washed over me. She smoothed down her hair and did that twisting action again, thrusting out her breasts in the matching lace pink bra. Despite my predicament I was getting very excited again and my breathing sounded loud to me.

Carol put her back to the door and started going through some of the clothes on the dressing table as if looking for something. The door creaked softly and in the mirror I saw a man standing there, looking in, watching Carol. Carol selected something and turned, then cried "Oh!" and dropped it, then crossed her arms to cover her bra. "Mark, you startled me, what are you doing?" Mark did not answer, just stood there, looking at her.

"I think you had better leave," Carol said firmly. "I want you to go, now."

Mark stepped into the room and heeled the door shut, his eyes were roving over her body, openly staring. "Get out!" Carol said firmly. But Mark stepped up to her, got hold of her wrists and pulled her arms apart and stared down at her lace harnessed boobs. Carol squirmed, but was held fast.

"Take it off," Mark told her. He let go of her, she covered herself again. "Take it off I said."

"No," Carol's voice was so low it was almost a whisper. "Go, I don't want you, get out."

Mark just grinned at her and then slowly began to undress himself. "Stop it! What do you think you are doing, stop it now!" Carol gasped. Mark ignored her and straightened up, totally naked. It was my first site of a male nude in the flesh and it was a shock to see that quivering truncheon pointing up from a dark patch of hair, seeming to point up at Carol. The simplified diagrams in sex education had done nothing to prepare me for the strangeness of that object, and how it seemed to have a life of it's own. Carol too was staring at it, almost hypnotised, then suddenly she tried to dash past him for the door. Grabbing the handle she yanked it open but Mark slapped it back shut and shoved her. She stumbled and fell on the floor, I shrank back as we ended up almost nose to nose, but Mark pulled her up and pushed her up against the dressing table, then turned her around to face the mirror. She was panting and he pushed her head down so that she grabbed the table edge to stop herself being pushed down further. She was left standing but bent over, her hair wild and her eyes wide in the mirror.

Mark fumbled at her bra and she gasped "No, you have to stop!" But she made no attempt to struggle any more, just watched in the mirror as Mark struggled and cursed, I thought she gave a quick grin for a moment but then her scared look came back. Mark gave up, reached around her and yanked the bra up, her boobs plopped out and bounced in the free air. Terror or not my hand went to my own breasts and copied the grip Mark took on one of them. He turned his attention to her skirt. He tried to yank it down but it would not and Carol yelped. Mark, his prick waving between her legs, hissed in anger and yanked the skirt up, revealing her panties over her tights.

"Stop it you bastard, stop!" Carol panted, her breasts were heaving in time with her shuddering breaths, my other hand was now between my legs. Even to my untutored ears she did not sound convincing.

Mark slid both hands down the side of her panties and slid them and the tights down to her knees. I stifled a moan as her small, rounded bottom was bared and in the mirror I could see the triangle patch of her pussy hair. Fascinated I saw that from behind with her bent over I could see the dark crevice of her actual pussy, Mark's prick seemed to be nodding at it as it bounced slightly in a steady beat.

Mark tried to kick her legs apart but was foiled by the tangle of panties and tights binding her knees close together, he gave up, grabbed his own prick and tried to push it up her. Carol let out a deep chested "UH!" and her head banged against the mirror and her feet left the floor as Mark grunted and shoved and then swore in frustration. He pulled back, knelt and tugged and yanked her underwear down to her ankles, there he ended in a hopeless mess as the tights snagged the buckles on her strappy shoes. Carol straightened up, bent with great suppleness to the side and calmly undid the buckles the returned to her position leaning on the dressing table, obligingly lifting each leg in turn to allow Mark to pull off her shoes and underwear. As he did so she reached back, unhooked her bra and let it fall, then touched her skirt and it floated down her legs, leaving her totally naked.

Mark stood up, panting and kicked at her ankles again, Carol spread them apart without protest, she seemed to be staring into her own eyes in the mirror, her mouth part open. Mark positioned himself and I clearly saw his prick slide smoothly up into her. Mark let out a deep sigh and Carol a sound like a startled cat, she closed her eyes for a moment and her head dropped until her hair brushed the cluttered table top.

Nothing had prepared me for what happened next, Mark's bum pulled back, exposing most of his prick which was now shining as if dipped in glue, then suddenly he rammed back into her with a slap as his belly contacted her bum, Carol let out a deep grunt as she was jerked forward by the thrust, then was reduced to stifled little screams as Mark did it again and again, The raw violence shocked and scared me, but at the same time the sounds they were both making had me furiously playing with my breasts and pussy myself, and when a slurping sound introduced itself I realised at once what I had overheard people talking about but never properly understood until now, Carol was wet. I licked my hand and plunged it down my panties and slipped a finger up inside me, imagining I was her and that Mark was plunging in me.

Mark was fighting for breath and paused, Carol wriggled out from in front of him, his prick emerging with a loud slobber. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed. In the mirror I saw her push him down onto the bed and then her legs, right in front of my face, bent and she knelt on the floor, her pussy just a few inches from my eyes, she smelt hot and vaguely zooish, I could see the hair around it was damp and matted. Beyond her in the mirror I could only see her back, her head was down, hiding Mark's middle as he lay on his back, rigid.

They were both silent for a time, and made no move, there were a few soft sounds I could not identify then suddenly Mark let out a loud moan and Carol a muffled giggle. With an electric shock like thrill I realised she was using her mouth on his prick, "kissing willy" we called it at school with a shudder of horror at the very idea, and sure enough in the mirror I saw her head appear and then disappear as she nodded it over his prick. My free hand reached out and I held my outstretched fingers between her slightly parted legs, just a fraction of an inch from her cunt, longing to dare to cross that little gap and fondle it, dip my fingers in.

The small noises grew in volume and I recognised them as greedy sucking noises, I bit my lip to keep quiet as I felt that tidal wave building againand stopped my stroking to let it ease back. Suddenly Carol moved and her legs closed, briefly trapping the tip of my fingers as I snatched my hand back. But she was too engrossed to notice, she stood and in the mirror I saw Mark still lying back, his prick pointing up to the ceiling, then it vanished again as Carol sat astride him and swallowed it back up into her cunt. Mark reached up to grab her tits and she covered his hands with her own and began to rock furiously.

I brought myself to the brink again and again as the bed rocked and creaked over me and the pair of them moaned and panted and Carl's motions grew erratic and jerky as I avidly watched her. I saw her build up to orgasm, she punched Mark's chest and threw her head back, stopped riding and sat still as a statue, then let out a long wail, Mark thrust his hips up violently and he too gasped and shuddered. I bit the back of my hand as the tidal wave escaped and I had to stifle the scream it tore out of me.

Carol had collapsed down on Mark, moaning as if in pain. I lay, recovering myself. Then she rolled off and told Mark to get a shower. "I will come and do your back in a minute," she offered.

Mark left, limping it seemed to me. Carol sat cross legged on the bed for a minute, then slid to the edge, her lovely legs down in front of my face. She reached a brush off the dressing table and watched herself tame it roughly. She then paused, sitting gloriously naked, flushed and marked with scratches. She seemed to be looking into her own eyes again, but then she said. "Better get out now." And then she got up, lovely and naked, and slipped out. After a moment I heard the bathroom door open and close.

I lay in rigid shock. Had she spoken to me? If so how long had she known I was there?

I slid out and slipped a silently as I could down the stairs and out into the cold night and ran home. By the time I got there, breathless, still shaking a little in reaction, I had convinced myself she had been talking to herself. Well, almost.