Better Observations from My Window

Arising from my bed with a massive stiffy, I open the curtains, letting my knob end brush against the cold wall on this bright, late spring morning. Timing it just right, the first sighting of the day is Karen from up the road, swaying seductively from her front door to her BMW Z3. Its sleek silver lines are parked right in front of my place and from my first floor vantage point, I gaze as she bends to open the remotely unlocked door. Her trousers tighten over her trim butt and there are the converging lines of her thong before they disappear into the mysteries of her crack. I guess it will be clean and sweet smelling after her morning shower, but maybe I'll catch her this evening and try to see how far it has tempted the wedge of material into it's dark and, by then, smelly crevasse.

I'm waiting for summer to tempt Karen into skirts and get the flash of thigh and knicker crotch as she slides into the low slung vehicle. She's a trim girl, not busty, tallish, with light auburn hair. From my back window I can just about see her undies on her washing line down the garden, but the view is too obscured to catch detail even through powerful binoculars, which I have to hand. I dwell on her butt until it slithers from sight and play with my cock which is oozing juice. I swipe some of it off and suck it clean from my finger not to waste it. She roars off and I go to the opposite end of the window, for the next sighting.

Macy from down the road appears, rushing to catch her bus. Always in a hurry, her big bust wobbling superbly, I would watch for her always erect nipples that seemed to defy her brassieres and bulge through whatever coverings she wore. Maybe forty-five years old, easily drunk at the local pub, I'd ogled her tits many times, alas always clothed. I watch as she dashes across to the bus stop, just in time as it appears round the bend. She's the only one to get aboard an empty bus and there's lots of chat between Macy and the driver as always. The vehicle gradually pulls away and my fantasies turn to Macy's pale, blue veined, bouncing breasts being pushed together and cushioning my cock as she wanks me off between them and catches my cum in her mouth. I automatically pull on my dick as my thoughts roam, wondering what her and her husband Barney get up to in the privacy of their house.

Ah! There's the next voyeurism opportunity. Leaving the same house a few minutes behind her mum is Emma, Barney and Macy's elder daughter. She's about twenty-four and good luck strikes in that she is showing erect nipples too. She's not big titted like her Mum but those firm, high, pointy boobies are well mounted in a tight sports type bra clearly visible under her flimsy white blouse. A neat, tight arse housed in beige trousers shows thong. Wow! Just look at the way that string disappears into her crack, echoes of her neighbour Karen there. Emma slides into her old car, fires it up and drives away after lighting a cigarette. Smoke inside and outside the vehicle.

Bobbie ventures from the front garden of her cottage, grasping the new baby in one arm and holding her dog's lead as she tries to open the door of her space wagon. She's black, coal black almost, of French Caribbean descent. She's also very fat, but I love her for her shows. They vary from short skirt up round her hips when she reaches into the wagon, giving me vast acreage of gleaming oily thighs and glimpses of big white knickers, to shows down her cleavage which puts Macy into the flat-chested category.

Bobbie doesn't attempt to hide her gross overweight and am I pleased. Her sex will be as sweet as the svelte youngsters, in that she's experienced and black as the ace of spades. Bobbie won't have a prissy little bikini line round her voluminous cunt I'll bet. It'll be fat-lipped and creased into a knot and very, very greasy with her sweat and juices. I can imagine Dave, her white carpenter husband prying those smiling lips apart, leaving trails of her juice cobwebbed across the gash he creates. There would be the pinkest, juiciest, flower like opening to her cunt with a large urinal aperture from where she would piss with terrific force. Her wiry black pubes will curl round it's opening and then thickly carpet the short damp trail to her ring piece, which will sit muscularly proud of its surrounding skin.

Now this morning, she has managed to ease the dog into the special seat and is fussing over its clips. Bobbie's boobs clash alarmingly as she stoops and bends giving me vistas of her dark breasts above the low cut neck of her bright red tee shirt. Her white bra shows stark in contrast to her skin and as she turns away and squats, putting her skirt into unimaginable stress I see the clear lines of her panties carving across those vast buttocks. No fashionable thongs for this woman, but I wouldn't be surprised to find she has something like that in her knicker drawer. Unfortunately, I can't see her undies on her washing line from my place.

Suddenly she is obscured by a delivery van and I patiently wait, working my erection, either for her to reappear or for another voyeuristic opportunity.

But along comes the most unlikely target for this window voyeur. Mrs Sensible, as I call her - who appears smack on the same time every morning, her sensibly clad feet rapping the same pacey rhythm on the pavement until she meets a friend who lives up the road just out of my sight. I know they proceed to the bus stop and disappear into town. As she passes, I ogle what I imagine is a full bosom, swathed in a bulky weather coat, her calf length skirt round stocky legs. Her neat tight auburn hair hardly moves in the light breeze. Its not lacquered, just wiry, thick and curled.

I know her name, she's Maureen - maybe mid forties. However I do know some other very interesting things about her. No great looker as maybe you can imagine, pleasant cheery face and plain colourless clothes, you know the type, but... My mate Norm was until recently the caretaker in the insurance office where she works. He has great fun with a colleague installing spy cams in the ladies toilets. I cannot tell you the countless laughs and wanks we have enjoyed watching the results. Bum after bum has revealed and relieved itself within inches of our spying eyes. Yes some horrors like energetically grunting dumps, but balanced easily by some absolute gems. It's difficult to imagine the variation in female cunts.

Recently, Norm adjusted the spy cam position when contractors remodelled the ladies room and now we can see their faces.

Lo and behold up pops Mrs Sensible on Norm's videos. I was stunned when she appeared on my computer screen. It was such an amazing and awesome coincidence. Maureen Cooper for that is my neighbour, wearing just about the sexiest undies you can imagine. Always stockings and sussies, always black skimpy panties and a neatly trimmed bikini line too, I noticed with fascination on the occasional times she turns before dropping or lifting her knickers. I just can't imagine Maureen donning a bikini.

Once, only once, we saw her brassiere. It was after I'd recognized her. Norm peeped in her desk diary and found out that it was a day she went to a breast clinic and for some reason she checked out her gear, in the toilet cubicle, under her sensible white high necked jumper either before or after her appointment.

Madame Cooper has huge tits in a most delectably lacy wired fashioned proper job bra. The garment itself was a class construction, that was clear and needed to be. Norm confirmed her bazongers hardly quivered as she went about her business in the office, but they were ginormous and I drooled imagining what those globes would look like unfettered. Now this morning I give my cock an extra hard time, pulling, squeezing and pulsing it, my thighs thrusting, my buttocks clenching as if I was shoving it inside Maureen's cavernous cleavage to cum over her prissy face.

Two mothers appear next, going towards the bus stop. One is a spectacular looking, blonde woman. The other mother is plain, with brightly coloured red hair and scruffily dressed and I have never seen her in anything tight fitting or revealing. Nor does her figure suggest through the layers and folds of anything remotely sexy. I ignore her.

Blondie, is petite, very shapely with nice sized tits, shown to full advantage in tight sweaters, shirts or dresses. She walks with a limp. It must be permanent as she is always the same, but it doesn't detract from her allure. It's only like one leg longer although she never wears high heels, always flats. Studying her through glasses, she is extremely pretty. She smokes almost constantly.

Her loose flowery, light weight dress floats round her thighs and her perma-tan compliments it's pale blue tints. She has a loose jacket, but I can see the vee of her dress and the suggestion of cleavage.

I resolve to cum with the next sighting and the working class mum from the social housing way down the road appears across on the other side. Laboriously pushing a shopping trolley, no doubt pinched from the supermarket before her. It hits the kerb and all sort of things jumble and shake about in the trolley, some drop out. She stops and bends to sort it. Up rides her ridiculously short skirt, slim bare legs shine white and her floppy tits sway, gravity ruling and no brassiere, so that they swing heavily beneath her thin white tee shirt. My cum rises as she tries to reach a can of something that has rolled away, first stooping, then crouching, legs apart, knees high, skirt stretched ridiculously tight.

Wham! My jism spurts out into the prepared tissue. With great gasps I relieve my erection as she slowly rushes away out of sight.

In the quiet brooding aftermath of my climax, I again remind myself to invest in a decent camera I can mount on the tripod with a massive zoom lens.

FIN