County Fair Voyeur Ch. 02

You can find Part 1 of this story under County Fair Voyeur Chapter 1

Where was I…

I had left the seating area of the arena. I knew I had to be quick, but what I wanted to do wouldn’t take too much time. My goal was to feel the inside of this beautiful clarinetist’s bra. I wanted to touch the portion of the bra that held and supported her beautiful breasts and nipples. I can’t tell you how nervous and excited I was.

I walked out of the building and looked at the entrance to the changing tent. People were milling about, but no “guards” were posted. I was running through my brain searching for an excuse why I should be in the tent in case I was asked. At the same time, I was hoping to slip in and slip out. I walked through the empty instrument cases and pulled back the opening flap of the tent. There appeared to be no one inside and it seemed darker than I remembered. I didn’t pause or look around before I entered because I was fearful the indecision would give me away. I stepped inside the tent allowing the flap to close behind me.

I stood there for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the dimmer light. The band was playing in the background. As I looked around, I saw all of the open bags the girls had brought to use for their change of clothes. The side panels of the tent were all cinched down, so it looked like this was the only entrance and exit. I looked across the tent to the area I had been hiding behind and started to walk in that direction. I had walked about half way there when some light entered the tent and I heard a voice.

“Excuse me. Should you be in here?” A woman had opened the flap to the tent and asked the question. I turned and said, “Well. My sister motioned to me from the band stage that she forgot her glasses. She has a solo in the last number and I think she needs them. I just need to find her bag.”

“Hurry up, then. They’re finishing this one and are only playing four songs,” she yelled back at me. “Okay. I’m hurrying as fast as I can. I’ll be out in a jiffy.” I said. With that, she closed the flap and I was alone again. My heart was racing 200 beats a minute and felt as if it had relocated to my throat, but I was alone.

I reached my destination and dropped down to one knee in front of her bag and opened it up. Her skirt lay on top and I moved it aside. There it was. Her beautiful lace bra. Nicely folded, the cups were stacked within each other. I looked back at the entrance. All was clear. I felt the fabric of the bra, both inside and out. What a rush this was. Feeling the coarseness of the outer lacy material and the smooth softness of the inner material.

After looking back again, I pulled the bra out of the bag in its folded state and brought it to my face. I took a deep smell. Whatever perfume she wore was so delicate. To this day sometimes I will walk past a cosmetic counter and it brings back this moment to me. The inside material touched my nose. I kissed it. I touched it with the tip of my tongue. Another deep inhale through my nose.

It was still all clear behind me. My back was to the entrance. Without another thought, I jammed my right hand holding her bra down the front of my pants until I felt my penis and balls brushing against the soft inner material of her bra. I wrapped it around the head of my penis and then withdrew my hand just as fast. Quickly dropping back to one knee and placing the bra inside her bag (so as to hide it should someone enter), I inspected it. No pubic hairs, no apparent spots or anything. Only I knew where the right cup of her bra had been.

I carefully placed it in her bag and as I did so, I saw an envelope in the bag. I moved aside the clothing and saw it was hand addressed to Lori something (I forget her last name). I now had a name for my clarinetist. I carefully replaced everything in her bag and slid her skirt back over the top of her bra. I adjusted the top of the bag to look just about as open as I had found it. Then I started back towards the entrance, desperately looking around for a pair of eyeglasses. I spotted an eyeglass case and opened it. No eyeglasses inside. A quick look around found me nothing better, so I left the tent holding the empty case.

I had hoped to exit and head back around to my secret spot, but when I emerged from the tent, I paused for a moment to let my eyes adjust. I looked to my left (my preferred easy escape) and then to my right. I then saw the lady who had spoken to me in the tent. She was standing outside of the concert arena watching the concert from down the aisleway. Resigned to have to see this through, I walked over to her and quickly past her into the arena while holding the eyeglass case. As I did so, she said, “Hurry. They’re just about done,” referring to their third song of three.

I walked into the arena and quickly turned right to get out of the aisle of her vision. I walked along the far right side wall towards the stage. I was afraid the woman was still watching me as I delivered the glasses, so I figured it best to walk down to the stage to act as if I was delivering the glasses to my sister. The stage was just platforms set upon the floor, so I walked around to the back of the band by the drum section. As I did so, the band ended its third number and the audience applauded. I paused for a moment, unseen by anyone at this point, and placed the eyeglass case on a trombone case. Then, as a proud brother that had done a good deed, I left via the side door.

The side door took me outside the arena on the opposite side from the changing tent. I looked behind the stage area to my left, but the whole area was fenced off. I could go straight back up to the front of the arena, but I would have been confronted again by the guard lady, so I opted to walk straight away, although it was in the opposite direction of the tent. I had to figure out how to get back over to the tent without being seen by this woman. I wanted to be there when she got out of her uniform.

Chapter 3

Unfortunately, there was no easy way back to this tent. I’d have to draw you a map to fully understand, but I had to walk around the horse track and cut through the carnival rides (midway for you mid-westerners) to get back over to the right side of the tent. It took forever and as I approached the tent I could hear talking already. I figured that by the time I got there, she will have already changed. I found the overlap of the tent, looked around to make sure the coast was clear and slipped between the canvas tent walls again.

I stooped over and peaked inside the hole. She, or shall I say Lori, was kneeling by her bag digging through it. She still had her band uniform on and this time was by herself. What luck. She found whatever she was looking for and walked back across the tent and outside. A mind can play some crazy games on you in this situation. I started to wonder if she had come back to her bag and found something I had left or noticed something amiss with her clothing and was now telling the teachers or police about it. Should I dash? I checked for my wallet. No. It was there. I could envision her talking with the police along with the woman at the entrance. Could they read the fingerprints off of the eyeglass case I had laid down? Was a manhunt in progress? Should I leave the fair? Which exit? They’re probably all guarded.

Just then, she walked back into the tent and towards her bag. I still thought this might be part of their trap so I would stay in place and not panic and run. She walked up to her bag and started unbuttoning the uniform. Would the police really ask her to strip for me to hold me in place? Wouldn’t she feel scared or at least uncomfortable? I looked at her and she seemed as calm as could be. No fear. No hesitation. I began to relax.

She unbuttoned her band jacket and slid it off her shoulders revealing her upper body except for her bra. She kicked off her shoes and unzipped her pants, stepping out of them and folding them neatly. As she reached for the hanger, she wore only her socks, blue panties and bra.

She placed the pants on the hanger and then slid the shoulders of the jacket on. She then walked a few paces over to a uniform rack and reached over and hung the complete uniform on it. I gazed at her complete body as she walked back towards me.

She kneeled down in front of her bag on one knee as I had done. I had an incredible view of the front crotch of her panties. She searched in her bag for a moment and laid her pretty lacy bra on top. She reached behind and unfastened her simpler bra, and like the first time, with a slight shrug of her shoulders had released her breasts from their keeper.

Her breasts were so pretty and looked so soft. Her nipples were not erect but they were such a beautiful shade of flesh. She unfolded her bra and reached behind her back to pass the bra strap to her other hand. With a fastener in each hand, she looked down and fastened the bra in front of her and rotated the fastener around her side to her back until the cups to her bra were under each tit. She put her right arm through the shoulder strap and raised the strap until the cup covered her breast. She then slipped her left arm through the shoulder strap and did the same. A little adjustment was made and her bra was on. I looked at her right breast (to my left as I faced her) and had the very satisfied thought that some cell of my penis or balls were rubbing against her skin. Indirectly, I was fondling her breast and nipple. It was an incredible feeling.

Then, to my total surprise, she moved aside the fabric of her panties covering her crotch and slid her middle finger inside or at least over her pussy. I say this with some uncertainty because for one I was shocked and surprised. Also, I didn’t have the best view of her in this one knee down position. Thirdly, she had a pretty good bush down there and her finger just kind of disappeared. I’d like to think she slid it inside of her, but she may have just run it over her pussy.

I hadn’t thought that I might see her bush. Her pubic hair was as brown as the hair on her head and there was quite a bit there. Right after this one stroke, she slid her panties back over and stood up, pulling her skirt out of the bag as she rose. I guess she figured that while she was down in that position, nobody could see what she did so quickly. She stepped into her skirt and zipped it up. She bent down and pulled her blouse out of the bag and put it on. With each button, more and more of her skin was disappearing from view.

She slipped on her shoes and knelt down to arrange the contents of her bag. If the hole in the canvas was a bit lower, I would have had a great view up her skirt. I dared not move, though, afraid I might change some shadow, make some noise or otherwise disclose my presence somehow. Today had been a home run and I have never been greedy in a peeping situation.

She applied some make-up in this kneeling position, but she soon stood up and gathered her bag and purse and walked toward the tent entrance.

I debated approaching her once more, because I wanted her to smile at me again, but I decided it best not to. Too much risk of drawing attention or running into the guard lady again.

I looked around and saw other co-eds in various stages of changing, but they were all too far away to see anything too revealing. I decided to leave my secret spot.

I went back to the County Fair a couple of more times with my great-aunt and great-uncle that year. On one evening, there was going to be a college cheerleader/spirit squad competition, but no matter how much I begged, my great-uncle needed to get home before five o’clock to take care of his chores. When we got home, his “chore” was watching the Merv Griffin Show. I have often fantasized about the things I could have seen that night.

In my mind, I thought about how to be sure one of the cheerleaders changed near my secret spot. I thought I could win a few bottles of Pepsi and squirt them around the lawn area under the tent so that the only dry place would be over by my secret spot. I’d leave the bottles littered on the ground so they would know what it was under their feet. But alas, it was not to be. In all, I was never lucky enough to see anything again through the hole in the canvas tent panel. But the few times I did go back and check, I always saw the faint naked ghostly breasts and smile of my brunette clarinet player, Lori.

Epilogue

All was not lost at my great-uncle’s house that summer week in 1966. Out in the country, the neighbors have no fences and the girl two houses down didn’t always get her shades completely closed at night. After confirming no dog was penned up there, I went out for a walk around nine o’clock that night, ostensibly to catch some fireflies. While she wasn’t as pretty as Lori, she was far from ugly.

We’ll save this for another time.