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Stealing glances at Kath's boobs and her precious nipples was one thing. Could he really bring himself to spy on her as well? Would he be called a "Peeping Tom?"
That term brought to mind the police and some creep outside a stranger's bedroom window. This concept, watching Kath in the shower, was a little different - not threatening, not as aberrant as spying on someone he didn't even know.
Voyeur, that was a nicer sounding term. Like the family who watched Randy and Kim showing off his dick and her bountiful boobs in the forest. The term didn't have the same threatening ring to it, at least in Orv's mind. Yes, not really kosher - but, and perhaps because it wasn't kosher, tremendously exciting at the same time. No harm, no foul in the forest. No harm, no foul here?
As he mulled this new development and how he felt about proceeding, Orv could not shake from his mind's eye the chance of seeing Kath undressing, then moving to the shower, running her hands over her magnificent breasts as she bathed.
Orv went to his bedside table and set his alarm for 10 minutes ahead of when he knew Kath would get up. He would wrestle with the decision between now and then.
Would her nipples get stiff when she touched them? Would she look at her breasts while she did so? The answer lay in going into the closet to see. But would he? Could he?
He told himself that he would debate the matter. But his dick was already telling him the answer.
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