Are you a voyeur?
My guess is, yes. Though the term refers specifically to a person who derives sexual pleasure from watching an unsuspecting person naked, undress, or engage in sexual behavior, the more generic use of the word simply implies a person who likes to watch.
Humans are curious by nature. It’s all we can do to look away when we see something not intended for our eyes. How many times have you seen a couple making out in public? Did you look away, openly watch or pretend you weren’t watching when you were? If you saw a naked person strolling down the street, would you cover your eyes? I guess this depends on how pleasing the view is. I confess, seeing the sunbaked and wrinkled senior citizens in their bikinis and speedos on the beaches of Florida is enough to make me cringe. Then there is the town in Vermont that decided public nudity was okay. I suppose they thought only young, firm, and toned people would dare to bare, but that wasn’t the case. The ban on nudity was reinstated at the request of the citizens after only a few months!
Since the clinical diagnosis of a voyeur only happens if the act of watching causes the voyeur significant distress (not in a grossed out way, but in that they feel they are doing something wrong) or becomes obstructive to their everyday functioning (as in, taking over their life), I’m guessing most of us don’t actually qualify for the appellation. However, the fact that peep shows, gentlemen’s clubs, male dance reviews and porn exist suggests the majority of the population derive some sort of pleasure from watching various degrees of sexual acts on occasion.
For every exhibitionist out there, there’s someone who would like to watch. From BDSM clubs where patrons are invited to view everything from foreplay to consummation, to the streets of Amsterdam’s Red Light district where prostitutes become window displays, to television and movies, we, as a society, are watching.
Earlier this year, my friend and fellow Dirty Birdie, Jennifer Lynne, approached me with the idea of exploring various kinks and fetishes through a series of short stories. Since my mind runs along those lines most days, I said yes right away. We decided to jump into the deep end from the outset with our own personal takes on voyeurism. The first installment in the NOT VANILLA series, VOYEURISM, releases this coming Tuesday. Here’s a sneak peek. (Sorry, couldn’t help myself!)
Excerpt: Lookin’ Good by Roz Lee
If Travis ever gave up the rodeo he could make a fortune as a porn star. He has the moves. You know how the guys are always angling the woman for the camera shots? Moving her hair, adjusting her legs? Travis wouldn’t need directing. Ever mindful of me watching, he does subtle things in such a sexy way the women he’s with never realize he’s doing it for someone else.
He works her skirt up over her hip. Her bare globes resemble twin orbs in the firmament. I doubt she even realizes he’s tucked the hem into the waistband, so she’s mooning me, and anyone else who happens to walk past. He parts her, exposing her thong. She might as well be wearing nothing.
I can almost feel his calloused fingers moving on my skin as he dives down her crack, slipping beneath the thin ribbon to find her honey. She’s so into him—what with the tonsil hockey going on upstairs and his fingers diddling her downstairs—she doesn’t even care when he slides his hand lower and hikes her knee up to his hip. He tucks her ankle behind his thigh then goes back to exploring her ass.
She’s open to him, and he takes advantage.
My pussy throbs, aching for the same kind of attention. Not being into delayed gratification, I slip my hand beneath the hem of my skirt. Geez, I’m wet. It’s no problem at all to slip two fingers inside my honey pot. My imagination runs at full force, conjuring up thick fingers rough with callouses earned from years of hard work to replace my much softer, slender ones. I scent my own arousal and bite my bottom lip to keep from moaning. I sniff the air like a mare in heat, hoping to catch a whiff of my stud. My imagination produces the bouquet, too—or maybe it’s real, lingering from the sixty seconds he was near me earlier. I don’t fuckin’ care either way. I’m so crazy with lust I could fuck a fence post.
Using the hand he has tangled in her hair, he jerks her face away from his. She’s panting. On the edge and desperate. I can’t blame her, I’m pretty much there myself. Travis mumbles something in her ear then searches her face for agreement. I’m no lip-reader, but I know the word please when I see it.
Thanks for reading!
Reserve your copy today for delivery to your reading device next Tuesday, May 19th!
4.5 Stars from Manic Readers – Hotter than hot, well done, and I can’t wait for the next two stories in the series.
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