Confessionism

TO BE CAUGHT:

Lying in my bed with my eyes closed fantasizing about looking down the blouse of a girl at school as I slowly move my fist up and down around my uncomfortably hard erection. I am now lost in this fantasy oblivious to my surroundings as my thoughts race with my fist building steam pumping harder and faster and gripping my throbbing manhood tighter and tighter; my fantasy girl slowly looks up with a small but wicked smile acknowledging me as I stare at her budding breasts. Faster, harder and tighter as the euphoria of ejaculation is building and coming; my body tightens mouth opens and....

The door of my room abruptly opens and she walks in carrying a laundry basket filled with my clean clothes. Euphoria disappears as panic, embarrassment and disbelief push their way in; I am now ejaculating into my linens as I try to cover myself up.

"Excuse me!" I manage to choke out.

She looks down at me scrambling around in my own bed naked "Oh, ok." She says as she puts the basket down and makes a quick exit. After the door closes I imagine that she ran sobbing into her room paralyzed with disbelief and shame.

I am left shocked and sticky from my own man juices in disbelief. She caught me doing dirty bad things; what an animal I am; a pervert! As far as I knew I was the only person in the world who engaged in such acts at least I was the only person in the world who did this so frequently; sometimes exceeding 5 times a day.

That moment is my first recollection of how enormous and heavy the feelings of guilt, shame and embarrassment can be. I carried that feeling for many days not daring to speak about with anyone until recently.

I was caught masturbating by an innocent; a person so pure and free from sin that the mere thought of me doing these naughty things could be enough to break her mental competence and send her immediately to seek medical attention.

Shame to me; the exhibitionist.

TO CATCH:

I jog up the large carpeted stairs heading for my room thinking that I am the only person home and as I walk by her room I hear an unfamiliar sound escaping from her slightly ajar door. I decide to say hello and I approach her door as this strange sound is catching me attention it is a vibrating sound that gets loud then muffled then loud over and over. I slowly open the door and peek in; Oh My Goodness! She is on her back in her bed with her feet firmly planted and her legs spread. I am staring directly between her thighs as she slowly abuses herself with a very large vibrator. I try to turn and run but am physically stuck like a deer in headlights unable to even close my eyes. Shock and horror slowly transform into joy as a wave of relief spreads itself through me. I am just barely able to process that this woman, this picture of purity and innocence abuses herself in the same manner as me; oh my goodness maybe I am not an animal or pervert or maybe we both are. I don't really care as long as I am not alone in this pursuit of self pleasure.

I quietly kneel so as not to be seen and watch as she manipulates this large vibrating tool in an out of her moist vagina over and over; my eyes are as big as dinner plates as I watch her arch her back and curl her toes as she comes to orgasm.

Without touching it my hard cock throbs then ejaculates gushing my cum into my pants.

I quietly back out and sneak into my bathroom to wash up.

I had never thought sexually of her until that moment; but from then on everything about her excited me; she is petite but her body commands attention. A very large and beautiful bosom leads to s skinny waist then open ups to a big wonderful heart shaped buttocks and short creamy white legs drop down to the cutest tiny feet anyone could imagine.

She has the face and brain of an angel atop a body of sensual lust.

Shame to me; the voyeur.

TO LANGUISH:

The next several years proceed as I grow into my own sexuality; I am obsessed as many of my peers are with the opposite sex and do quite well with dating and the heavy petting that comes along with it. Girls come and they go only to be replaced with others; there is pain and heartache along with bliss and joy.

However, she is always there and I become somewhat of a pervert and peeping tom; I expose myself to her as often as possible, manipulating situations so as to be naked and erect as she passes my room or to walk in on her showering after I hear the water start falling.

Like a fever my perversion flares and withdraws with no apparent reason, I could go weeks or even months with no major situations only to find myself lurking in the basement waiting for a fresh pair of her panties to fall down the laundry shoot for me to play with as I masturbated.

Strangely through this time I am aware that she is aware of my seemingly strange and perverted behavior and absolutely none of it is spoken of or acknowledged. I would see her looking at my erection as I proudly exposed it to her; I would sometimes watch her dress or undress and though she did nothing to encourage my behavior she also did nothing to discourage it.

My adolescent friends would tease me about her body and tell me how wonderful it was and what they would like to do with her and to her; I would protest their harassments but inside felt the same way and satisfied myself with the thought that they had no idea what was packed in under her clothes.

And so it went as I languished through my youth and into adulthood.

TO LIVE:

Decades came and they went and I grew into a man with my own family and home. Wonderfully adjusted and normal to any observer, however underneath my seemingly correct appearances still lurked the same perverted exhibitionist/voyeur for this one woman.

On every visit and vacation that we shared, even as this well adjusted family man, I would never miss an opportunity to expose my manhood, peek in a window as she dressed or even to walk right in as she showered. And still not a word was said or even a disapproving look shot my way. There were even just a slight few wonderfully precious moments of perceived encouragement from her during a small stretch of time when she was alone with no man to comfort her.

During this time I developed a new sense of shame along with heavy guilt for my behavior towards her; for I not only had this sexual attraction to her but also very much respect for how she lived her life and the way she dealt with the many obstacles that she faced. She is a wonderful woman who only wants and strives for the people around her to be satisfied. Shame on me for disgracing such a beautiful person with my hard cock and peeping eyes.

I lived with a combination of excitement, shame, guilt and lust that was becoming more difficult to mentally manage as I matured into my middle age.

TO CONFESS:

A desire to confess and apologize developed within me that I kept at bay for several years. This desire to confess was strong, strange and scary while at the same time it was also exhilarating. What would she do if I confessed and begged for forgiveness; surely she would shun me.

During a period of heavy mental stress brought on by outside influences I became depressed and I would often mentally vacation from my stress and depression by mentally confessing to her and writing my confession and apology to her and then quickly deleting. I also started to write short erotic stories based on combination of fact and fiction. This was a dark time for me for I now knew that I was going to do it. This knowing and practicing of my confession/apology went on for many months until the one morning when I did it.

And confess I did; once it started there was no stopping. I confessed to every exposed cock, every peep in the window, every panty sniff and that I had always and still do masturbate to the vision of her masturbating. I confessed and apologized for my behavior and told her all that I felt including the confusion between lust and respect and the shame I felt.

She was very understanding and beneficial during this time when I was most vulnerable and told me that it was ok and I felt better for a time. However, I assumed by taking this action that the fantasies and urges would stop and they did not. If anything they grew, and emboldened by my new ability to communicate with her on a sexual nature became stronger. I wrote erotic stories for her and told her my fantasies and we talked of sexual things. She shared sexual feelings and fantasies with me and we bonded during this time developing a much stronger trust within each other than we had ever had. I knew that I could confide in her and she now knew that she could confide in me and that our secrets were safe with one another.

Most of the guilt and shame had now left me and I was relieved, however the lust remained.

TO ACCEPT:

With the guilt and the shame gone I inadvertently began trying to seduce her through my stories and discussions. She had confided in me that she found secret excitement and enjoyment from my fantasies but asked me to stop engaging her with them for they made her uncomfortable.

So for a time I would exercise self-control and keep my fantasies to myself, then similar to a pot of boiling soup on the stove top all of the pent up frustrating would spill out over a few day massive communication with her. And then usually a few month reprieve of self control followed by episodes of eroticism.

I slowly accepted that even through the tremendous respect and natural love that I had for her, I also had lust. Not typical lust but lust the same; I had and have fantasies and urges to expose myself to her, to masturbate for her and watch her in the same.

I am now in the process of accepting that even though I have this one seemingly insurmountable emotional defect that I am still a good person. For some reason I got stuck in a Freudian phase of childhood that most men adjust out of and I did not. I accept it but I wonder if she does.