CHAPTER ONE

 

Jonathan Willery was a voyeur. In fact, he'd always been a voyeur, ever since the age of eight when he'd seen the lady next door walk naked past a curtain that was only half closed. Then there'd been the time when he'd visited the seaside at the age of twelve. He'd been standing by the railings at the edge of the promenade when he glanced down towards the beach immediately below him. And there, standing right up against the wall, was a plump middle aged lady getting changed, and he could see her huge melon sized breasts with thick black hairs between them. No doubt she'd been standing so close to the wall in order to conceal herself ... but she'd been wrong!

Watching became his obsession. As a youngster he'd always been rather shy, particularly with girls, and his father, a strait-laced vicar, did little to encourage him to socialise with them. So rather than get involved, he preferred to watch them, unseen, from a distance.

When he was older he went to see 'X' films and strip-tease shows, but here he discovered a curious thing: they were nothing compared with the thrill of watching a girl or a woman who didn't know she was being watched! It was strange, but he found it much more exciting to get a brief, surreptitious glimpse of breast or buttock at the seaside than to watch a stripper gyrating stark naked.

Doing something he shouldn't be doing had tremendous appeal for him. Invading someone else's privacy to him as well, and he was fully aware of how anxiously people guarded their privacy and their naked bodies. He knew, of course, that when he watched people it was important not to be caught, and this, he realised, was the risk his pastime involved. On the whole, however, he was lucky. He had a few narrow escapes over the years and on a small number of occasions he was very fortunate he didn't end up in serious trouble, but his first major escapade occurred when he was only 18...

 

***

 

Mrs Wagstaff was an old friend of his mother's. She lived in a different part of the country and Jonathan had never met her before. She came to stay for a few days one summer while her husband, a university professor, was away in America, and Jonathan found her strangely exciting. She was a tallish, pleasantly proportioned, slightly overweight lady of around 45, a platinum blonde with wide blue eyes that seemed to look right through you. From the first, he found her fascinating, her legs in particular. They were a little on the e large side but firm and shapely, and he had no difficulty in imagining the large thighs and the big bottom that undoubtedly existed further up.

But like many other 18 year olds (shy or not) he found it was one thing to desire her but quite another to actually do anything about it. For the sad fact was, he had no idea of how to chat up a girl of his own age let alone a grown woman. He would sit there at mealtimes utterly tongue-tied, unable to say anything beyond banalities such as 'good morning' or 'good evening'. He was nothing more than an awkward adolescent, while she was an elegant lady who wore expensive clothes and spoke clearly, confidently and intelligently in a posh, well-to-do accent.

He would think of her big, ample thighs while he masturbated in bed at night, but was this really all he could do? No, it was not and it wasn't long before he thought how interesting it would be to spy on her through the keyhole in the bathroom door.

It would really be quite easy - he had done it to his elder sister a couple of years previously. His parents' bedroom was right at the front of the house, his own was in the middle, while his sister's room and the bathroom were at the back. But, very importantly, they were both out of sight of his parents' room because the upstairs passage was L-shaped. And most importantly of all, his sister was away on holiday with friends in Wales at the moment and Mrs Wagstaff was occupying her room.

He decided to do exactly as he'd done with his sister. Mrs Wagstaff had a bath every night before going to bed (as his sister did), so nobody would be around. And, just as before, if he heard his parents' door open while he was in the act of watching he would simply nip into the loo which was immediately next to the bathroom.

There was only one snag - if he were caught, either by his parents or by Mrs Wagstaff, he'd be in much greater trouble than if he were simply caught peeking at his sister. In fact, he shelved the idea for a whole day, until he caught a tantalising glimpse of smooth white thigh as she sat down in an armchair after dinner. Yes, he would do it! That very night!

The TV news ended at half past ten and everyone rose to go to bed. Up in his room, Jonathan changed into his pyjamas, put out the light and stood listening by his door. Soon he heard his parents' door close for the last time; then, after another minute or so, he heard the door to his sister's room being opened and then closed again. This was followed by the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing and it was then, silent as a cat, that Jonathan crept out of his room and along the passage.

It was pitch black and he could heard the sound of water running into the bath. Good! That would prevent Mrs Wagstaff from hearing any creaking floorboards out in the passage. Jonathan was wily enough to know that that sort of thing could give him away! He rounded the corner and saw the strip of light at the bottom of the bathroom door.

Moving very gingerly now, Jonathan edged forward. His penis was already stiff with anticipation of what he might see. The sound of running water grew louder and louder as he approached.

Very, very slowly indeed, he knelt down and looked, goggle eyed, through the keyhole.

And what he saw took his breath away - it was beyond his wildest hopes! He found himself staring at Mrs Wagstaff's large, white, shapely buttocks - big, bare, naked, well-formed buttocks as she bent over the side of the bath. Then she stood up, turned, and climbed in, her superbly shaped thighs and big, pink nippled breasts being fully visible through the keyhole.

Jonathan's cock was now rigid and rock solid. He dared not touch it for her knew what would happen if he did. Watching Mrs Wagstaff in profile as she sat in the bath, he could see her massaging her big, bouncy breasts with frothy, bubbly water.

Then she leaned forward towards the taps which were just out of Jonathan's line of sight. She turned them off and the noise of running water ceased. It fell silent. For a moment Jonathan couldn't see what she was doing, but then she sat back again, holding the shower hose which she must have attached to the taps. It squirted out a fine spray of water which she directed over her face and then down towards her breasts.

She stood up again - still in the bath - and removed the spray attachment so that the water came out of the hose in a steady stream. She turned so that she faced Jonathan with her legs wide apart so that he was able to see that mysterious slit between her legs, clearly visible because the hairs around it were somewhat sparse.

He gasped. He slobbered. He held his breath, utterly hypnotised by his first ever sight of a grown woman's vagina.

Then she leaned over to the taps again and turned one so that the water came even faster out of the hose. Still facing Jonathan, she held it now between her legs so that the water shot upwards towards her vagina which she slowly began to massage with her free hand. The water flowed back down her Venus de Milo thighs and sometimes straight down between them.

Once again she leaned over to the taps and turned the water off. She sat down in the bath again and lay back, staring straight ahead of her. It was suddenly very quiet, so quiet that Jonathan felt slightly uneasy. If he moved, wouldn't she hear him? His uneasiness was just beginning to turn to alarm when mercifully, she leaned forward and turned on the taps again. As she did so he had another glimpse of her big bouncy boobs and he slowly, cautiously, began to rub his cock up and down.

With the water still running, she got up out of the bath and moved out of Jonathan's line of sight entirely. The she moved back again, her beautiful ass towards him and sprinkled something out of a plastic container into the bath. Then she moved back out of sight and a moment later she opened the door wide, stark naked, staring down at Jonathan with his cock sticking up out of his pyjamas like a telegraph pole.

For a few moments that seemed to last a million years they just stared at each other. The water on her wet body trickled down her voluptuous legs which were slightly apart. She gazed at him with her wide blue eyes and he looked away, away from her expressionless face and down towards her glistening breasts. His eyes moved down even further until they came to rest on her slit which was barely two feet in front of his face.

Uncontrollably his cock squirted up huge globules of milky sperm which splashed onto her thighs, her legs, her feet and the carpet.

Silently she closed the door. He still knelt there, shivering and trembling in the darkness.

 

***

 

Needless to say, he didn't sleep a wink that night. He lay there wide awake, horror-struck at the enormity of what he'd done and the consequences with his parents which just didn't bear thinking about. For one thing was certain: Mrs Wagstaff would surely tell them.

Amazingly, however, she hadn't cried out, or exclaimed, as well she might have done when she found him there. Many women, Jonathan supposed, could well have screamed. But not Mrs Wagstaff, cool and calm with those blue eyes of hers.

He could guess easily enough what she was going to do - she'd take his mother to one side in the morning and ask for a quiet word.

And then the proverbial cat would be out of the bag. His mother would be horrified and his father would never forgive him. True, he might be a vicar who preached about forgiveness, but there was no way he could forgive him for something like this. But that was not all. Jonathan realised perfectly well that this wasn't something that could be kept within the family - he knew that he'd brought disgrace and humiliation upon his parents as well, involving a visitor to their home! And his father was a vicar! How could they forgive THAT?

He went down to breakfast the next morning as white as a sheet. His parents seemed to be behaving perfectly normally, so obviously they didn't know anything - yet. Then Mrs Wagstaff appeared; she, too, behaved perfectly normal, but she didn't so much as glance in Jonathan's direction. It was very clear that she'd decided not to say anything until after breakfast. Oh why couldn't she tell them NOW and get it over with, he wondered miserably. She was keeping him in suspense deliberately, the bitch!

"... And then we'll go on into Leamington for lunch," said his mother, as she finished outlining a plan for them to visit some friends of hers for coffee that morning.

"Well, I'd love to come," said Mrs Wagstaff, "but really Martha, I've got quite a headache this morning! Do apologise to Sarah, but I really think I'd rather stay here and rest - d'you mind going without me?"

Jonathan froze, bewildered. He wasn't going, either; he had studies to be getting on with, as they all knew, and his mother's plans had not included him in the first place.

His parents flapped for a bit, but Mrs Wagstaff assured them she was not ill, that she didn't need the doctor, and no, they needn't spoil the day by staying at home on her account. Besides, Sarah was expecting them, and she insisted they went without her.

And that was that. His parents left the house at ten o'clock leaving him alone in it with Mrs Wagstaff. And at five past ten she walked into the living room where he was pretending to read a book and she sat down opposite him, quiet as a cat.

"I think," she said, "you and I had better have a little talk, don't you?"

"Yes," he mumbled, looking at his fingernails.

"Look at me when I talk to you!" she commanded in an icy voice.

He looked up at her cold blue eyes which gazed back at him with eyebrows raised.

"I expect you realise," she went on, "that if I told your parents about what happened last night you'd be in very serious trouble. Wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

"Very well then. Now, because you're so young I've decided to be merciful. I'm going to give you a choice: either I tell your parents what happened, or alternatively you submit to my own punishment for you - here, now, this morning. Which is it to be?"

"I - er -" He was so confused he hadn't really understood her.

"Come on! Answer me! My punishment or theirs?"

"Yours. You - you mean you won't tell?"

"Not if you do exactly as I tell you."

"All right." He was overwhelmed with relief, but he was profoundly puzzled. How on earth could SHE punish him - she couldn't stop his allowance, or do anything like that, could she?

She stood up. "Come with me." She walked out of the room and Jonathan followed her. They went up the stairs and along the passage to his sister's room. She went in and sat down on the side of the bed; he waited just inside the doorway.

"I'm going to start by giving you a good spanking," she hissed.

"Oh ...!"

"Yes, that's right, a spanking! Or d'you want me to tell your parents?"

"No, no ..."

"Right. Get down over my lap."

He walked towards her but suddenly froze as she yelled at him -

"Well take your trousers down you idiot! And your pants! You deserve if on your bare bottom, d'you understand me? And take that shirt off - and those shoes, and those socks!"

He did as he was told without saying a word, and for the first time in his life he stood totally naked in front of strange woman. He blushed bright red with mortification and shame.

But then, to his utter astonishment, she did the very last thing he expected her to do: she pulled her skirt up around her waist and sat there, exposing her bare white thighs which rested on the side of the bed. For the first time that morning he noticed that she wasn't wearing stockings (but then, he'd had other things on his mind).

"Right - down here, over my lap, with your balls between my thighs!"

He did so, and this time he was shaking with astonishment at that word she'd used - a lady, the wife of a university professor!

He was also psychologically bowled over by the fact that now, for the first time ever in his life, his prick was between a woman's thighs. It stiffened immediately and became rock solid, hard up against her warm firm flesh. But there was nothing she said or did that even acknowledged its existence.

She placed her hand on his buttocks and he tensed. Then she took it away again as she raised her arm ...

SLAP!

"Ooof!" he cried in pain, shock and surprise. It stung!

SLAP!

"Oooooh!" he groaned as a second time it happened.

"You dirty little peeping tom!" she hissed.

SLAP!

"You prying little creep!"

SLAP!

"You filthy little rat!"

SLAP!

"You dirty little toad!"

SLAP!

"You miserable wretch!"

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!!" he moaned.

"Right - get up."

He did so, his buttocks bright red and aglow with a sharp tingling sensation which, to his surprise, was not unpleasant. He bent down to put his clothes on again.

"Hey! What d'you think you're doing?"

He froze.

"You don't think I've finished with you yet, do you? You don't think you're going to get away with just a few slaps across your arse, do you? You just stand there while I examine you!"

For the second time he was amazed at the utterly unexpected crudity of her language.

"Hmph!" she snorted. He was standing in the centre of the room and the walked round him. She placed her hand on his ass and moved it up and down. Then she stuck her finger up his anus, and he caught his breath: it was a strangely thrilling, exciting sensation, but it felt at the same time as if he might suddenly do something onto the carpet! Then she withdrew her finger and walked round him again.

His cock was sticking right up into the air and a globule of clear fluid appeared as its tip. She stopped in front of him and looked down with an expression of utter contempt on her face. She reached forward and very deftly scooped up the globule of liquid on the tip of her forefinger which she then held in front of his face.

"Lick!" she commanded.

He gulped and turned pale.

"I said LICK!" she shouted.

He did as he was told and his mouth flooded with a strange, salty, earthy taste which he decided he didn't like very much.