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Confessions of a Voyeur
Confessions of a Voyeur
I'm not a very big man, nor am I small. I do not foresee myself posting a picture of my pecker any time soon on a site like this. I'm not an exhibitionist, but I thank all of those fine women on here that practice that lifestyle. Without the kindness of these women, voyeurs like myself would be really bored and probably more frustrated than some of us are already. Now, by all means, this doesn't mean that I prefer voyeurism to the real thing by any means. If it weren't for the source of pleasure that it represents, I'd have cut my dick off a long time ago. Perhaps you've heard the saying, "Never trust anything that bleeds that much and doesn't die." Well, I'm going to insert my own bit of polar wisdom here: Never trust anything that complains that much and can't be kicked the fuck out. My dick is like the bad little kid that you tell your friend that you will look after while they are away. When the cat's away, the mice come out to play (so to speak).
I can't help it. I love breasts. I love the way they feel, the way they look, and the way some of them taste. I especially love nice, firm breasts that press against each other along the line of the cleavage. I love the way the small of a woman's back meets a woman's ass, and rises gradually along the line of the dorsal part of her body. I love the two little dimples on either side of her lower spine right between the top of the hips in the small of the back. Arching the back in certain situations only intensifies the observational experience. I love red hair -- red like fire, auburn, and the color of blood. I do not like orange hair though. I love inquisitive eyes that have a litle bit of nasty in them, eyes of a succubus, eyes of a temptress, and the eyes of a seductress. If I had those parts on me, I'd never leave the house. (Ok, so that's not entirely true.)
My libido seems way too high. I think someone switched it on, left the house, and died. I mean, it's been running on high since I was around fifteen I think. There are too many times a day that I could hammer nails through concrete with my jock it seems. Of course, hanging out on a site like this probably does nothing to remedy that reoccuring theme, but this place is by no means the originator of my libido. I guess I should be thankful for the Internet in this respect. As a voyeur, I can now get my eyes on some fine flesh without having to pay for it.
Ahh, well, I'm bored now. I have a pretty good idea that some of you will feel the same way I do when or if you get this far. Well, you'd be perfectly entitled to such an outcome. So, go ahead and curse me for taking a year or two off your life. Therefore, I spill a bit of my beer for all the voyeurs out there. I'll bring them into the mix because it's a slow night at chez _anubis.