Peeping Tom

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This started out as part of my ABC series, V is for Voyeurism, but it’s not true voyeurism and is a little creepy.  I wanted to keep it though,  so I changed the title and am putting it out there.  Creepiness and all.

Marissa was a waitress at Lisa’s favorite café.  Lisa ate breakfast there every day.  Marissa would greet Lisa warmly every morning.  They’d exchange pleasantries.  Talk about the weather.  Marissa thought that was the extent of their relationship.

Not for Lisa.  Lisa spent all day with Marissa.  And most of the night.  Following her.  Watching her as she purchased flowers at the farmer’s market.  Watching her face as she smiled under her wide-brimmed hat.  Watching as her sundress hugged her curves so femininely.  And watching her hips sway as she walked away.

Lisa was in love with Marissa but unable to come to terms with her sexuality.  And she knew Marissa liked boys.  Bad boys.  Boys who treated horribly.  Boys who made her cry.  If only Marissa would realize Lisa was the person she belonged with.  Then Lisa could worship her the way she deserved.

But until then, Lisa was forced to worship her from afar.  Occasionally, Marissa would catch her, but it didn’t bother Lisa.  Lisa just pretended she saw her by happenstance.  After all, it wasn’t unusual for two people from the same small town to be in the grocery store at the same time.

Lisa’s favorite time to watch Marissa was at night.  Marissa liked to get undressed in front of her bedroom window, shades open.  Lisa liked to think Marissa got off on the thought that someone could be watching, but she did consider the possibility that Marissa felt safe from prying eyes.  Her apartment was on the third floor and didn’t face any other buildings. She could have thought no one would see her.

But Lisa owned a nice pair of binoculars.  Lisa made a game out of watching her.  She put on a disguise.  Hid in the bushes outside Marissa’s apartment. Selected the perfect vantage point to watch the show.

Lisa watched as Marissa stepped out of her sundress.  She began to feel a tingling between her legs when she saw the pretty lavender lace bra and panties Marissa wore.  Her panties began to dampen as Marissa took off her bra and exposed her perfect breasts.

Lisa felt an overwhelming need blossoming for Marissa.  Her body demanded a woman’s touch.  So Lisa reached under the waistband of her pants and ran her hand down to her clit.  She began fingering herself as Marissa took off her panties, rubbing her clit with her palm.  She fingered herself harder and with more vigor, as Marissa admired her naked body in the mirror.

Marissa turned and looked at Lisa.  Lisa was so close.  So close to coming.  So caught up in the fantasy that when she saw Marissa’s eyes focusing on her she didn’t recognize the true meaning of this.  She believed they were connecting.

It wasn’t until Marissa gasped that Lisa realized she’d been caught.  She ran away.  Ran all the way home.  Once safely inside, she collapsed on the couch.  Her heart immediately filled with sadness.  She had to let her sweet Marissa go.

Comments

  1. I agree this is more like stalking than voyeurism, but a lovely write anyway…

  2. It may not be ‘V for Voyeurism’ but it sure as hell is ‘H for Hot’…..!

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