Landlord Voyeur

Landlord Voyeur

Author's Note: This story was inspired by a news article about a guy who went to jail for eighteen months for doing approximately this. Don't try this at home, folks.

Her name was Molly Ling, a petite young woman of Asian descent who answered my ad about a basement suite for rent. As I showed her around the small but well-appointed suite - living room with a television and a sofa, kitchenette with a small fridge, hot plate, microwave and toaster oven, private bathroom with shower, bedroom with enough room for a double bed and a work desk - we chatted about her situation.

She was a grad student in Psychology, just starting her second term of study in January and anxious to have her own place rather than staying another term in the student residence, hence her interest in a basement suite close to campus and on a bus route. She was a full-time student, but between scholarships and a position as a graduate teaching assistant, she was confident that she would have enough cash flow to be able to keep up the rent. And she had the damage deposit and first month's rent with her in cash.

As we sat at the kitchen table signing the paperwork, I discreetly looked her up and down. Long, straight black hair, blunt-cut in typical Asian style. Delicate features, but exuding a strength and confidence that you don't always find in Asian women, although that wasn't surprising since she was second generation Canadian - it had been her grandparents who had first immigrated to this country. Nice, medium-sized breasts, bigger than the teeny-tweenies that Asians often carry, the tops peeking out suggestively from a shirt with the top two buttons undone. Narrow waist, delicately curving hips. Twenty-three years old, she told me. All around, a very appealing package.

She phoned a friend who had a car with her possessions in the trunk, and I left her to get settled in. While she and her friend arranged her things, I went into my office and tried to work on the quarterly report that had been due six days ago.

I found it hard to get Molly out of my mind. I don't like to think of myself as a letch, but I had been single for a while, and having a woman like that under my roof was sparking a massive fantasy overload. I kept thinking about what those breasts might look like with the rest of the buttons undone. Was her pussy natural, trimmed, or shaved clean? Did her pussy lips extend up far enough that you could see the beginning of a cameltoe cleft between her legs, or was her pussy completely hidden unless she spread her legs and showed it off? Did she have tan lines under her clothes (unlikely in late December, but nice to speculate about)?

I finally gave up trying to concentrate on my report, slipped my pants down, and began pumping my now rock-hard dick. As I pumped, I turned the image of Molly in my mind slowly around. Of course, the mind-Molly was naked, and of course she answered all of the above questions (bare pussy with a nice cameltoe, small but very shapely ass, no tan lines). It didn't take long for me to shoot my load, and it took three tissues to contain it all.

***

Three days later, I was on a stepladder installing a spy camera in Molly's bathroom while she was in class.

I didn't do anything as obvious as putting it in the ceiling over the shower. Instead, I replaced one of the screws holding the light over the sink with the camera. It was tiny enough that you couldn't see it even if you looked straight into the hole. It just looked as though one of the screws was missing. I just had to hope that she wasn't handy enough to want to replace the screw, but I hadn't seen any household tools among her various possessions, which were strewn around the suite in the typical student haphazard way.

The shower had a completely clear glass door, so I would get a good view not only of what she did in there but also what she did entering and leaving. I wasn't particularly interested in watching her brushing her teeth, but if she did it in the nude after her shower, that would be a bonus. I didn't bother to angle the camera to cover the toilet area - I don't happen to be one of those guys who is especially turned on by watching women peeing.

I had a pretty good idea of her movements. She had a class at nine on Tuesdays, so she got up at seven thirty, jumped in the shower, grabbed a coffee and a light breakfast, and was out the door by eight thirty.

That night, I set my alarm for seven and went to bed. I had a hard time getting to sleep, as you might expect. My head was full of visions of Molly soaping her tits, Molly scrubbing her pussy, Molly rinsing her asscrack and rubbing soap over her asshole. I tried to ignore them, afraid that my view of the real Molly wouldn't live up to expectations, but it was no use. I finally got up, jacked off into a tissue again, had a stiff drink, and then went back to bed. This time I succeeded in dozing off.

The next morning, I was up bright and early, sitting in front of my computer with a coffee and a muffin and looking at a fascinating view of an empty bathroom. But I didn't have to wait long before I saw Molly enter, wearing a pair of skimpy red panties and a t-shirt with the logo of some long-forgotten metal band. Good, first question answered: what did Molly wear to sleep in?

She turned on the water to let it heat, then crossed her arms and pulled the t-shirt over her head and off. She was turned sideways to the camera, so I had an excellent view of her breasts when they came into view. Yes, just as I expected: smallish, but much larger than the little pimple-titties that you see on some women of Asian descent. Perky and carried well, with no trace of droop, as you might expect in a twenty-three-year-old. Her nipples looked hard and prominent, probably as a result of their sudden exposure to the cool air of the bathroom.

And no tan lines. Just a nice, even golden colour from head to toe. No tattoos either, which I appreciated. I don't think female skin needs embellishment.

The hand holding the shirt disappeared out of my view and came back empty, indicating that she had hung the shirt on the hook behind the door. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, and I held my breath as she started to slip them down. I had an excellent view of her small, rounded asscheeks as she bent to slip them down her legs and stepped out of them. Then, as she turned to toss them in the laundry basket, she answered another of my questions.

Her pussy was shaved perfectly bare, with the cutest little cleft of a cameltoe showing between her legs. Jackpot! I zoomed the camera and moved the angle down slightly to savour my first - but I was sure, not the last - view of that succulent little morsel Molly was packing. I was certainly glad I had paid top dollar for a camera with pan and zoom.

She piled her hair up on top of her head and gave it a clever little twist to hold it there. I imagined that, even though her hair was fine, it was long enough that it would take a while to dry, and she didn't want it to get wet when she had a bus to catch. If I waited until the weekend, I would probably get to see her wash it, which would mean a nice, extended session in front of the camera.

She reached into the shower, tested the water, and evidently found it to her liking. She climbed in, turned once around to wet her skin all over, and took a pump of shower gel in her right hand. She started with her front, soaping up her chest below her chin and then both breasts. They were perky enough that she didn't need to lift them to wash their undersides, but I could see them jiggle slightly as she swished the soap over them. Even though I had jacked off in anticipation the night before, my cock was stiffening in my pants as I watched.

It just kept getting better. There was a ledge to hold products at one end of the shower, and she put her left foot up on it, reached down, and washed from her toes all the way up to her hip. I was viewing her body from the left, so I couldn't see her pussy, but that improved when she switched to her right leg. As she soaped all the way up her leg, I had an excellent view of her tender little pussy. Then my heart almost stopped as she stood back up, spread her legs, and soaped her pussy itself. To top it off, she reached behind her, spread her cheeks, and did a quick wash of her asscrack all the way down to her asshole.

The show was pretty short - the penalty for starting my adventure on a weekday, I guess. A quick wash of the arms up to the armpits, a final rinse, and she turned the water off. I couldn't help noticing that she hadn't washed her back, which made me think about how much cleaner she could have been if she had invited me in to help her wash the hard-to-reach bits.

She climbed out and toweled off, which was a good show in itself. Then, without putting the t-shirt back on, she faced straight into the camera - which, you'll recall, was mounted in the light above the sink - and started to brush her teeth. Her pussy was below the level of the counter, but I had a good view of her tits as they jiggled slightly with the motion of her arm as she brushed.

She rinsed, spat, and disappeared from my field of view. Show's over, I said to myself. I imagined her getting dressed downstairs from me as I replayed the file, pausing on the most interesting bits. When I got to the pussy-washing scene, I froze the frame and pumped out another deep and satisfying ball-clenching orgasm.

I saved the file with a date and no other identifier, buried several layers deep in a folder whose name had nothing to do with "shower," "bathroom," "camera," or "Molly." Then I went to my bathroom to wash off my cock and get ready to face the rest of the day.

***

Saturday. Molly's weekends weren't as tightly structured as her weekdays, so I was up early and working away at my report. I got quite a chunk of it done before a popup told me that the camera's motion detector had sensed movement in Molly's bathroom.

I switched to the camera app and watched as Molly repeated her usual shower ritual, turning on the water and then shucking off the t-shirt and panties - green ones this time. But she didn't pile up her hair. Instead, she climbed in the shower, held her head under the water and let it sluice down over that lovely mass of black. She squirted shampoo in her hand and worked it carefully from her scalp right to the ends, then returned to her scalp and massaged vigorously with the fingers of both hands.

I was entranced. I don't know quite why I found watching a woman wash her hair to be so sensual, but it was. I could imagine standing behind her with my hands massaging that scalp, running through that hair, carefully working the shampoo through to the ends, while watching the hot water run down her skin, over her breasts, down her stomach and into the cleft between her legs. Oh God, I thought I was going to die right there from the sheer joy of watching.

It got even better. Once she had washed and rinsed her hair and the rest of her slim young body, she opened the door, reached out of my view for a moment, and came back with a razor. She soaped up her abdomen right above her pussy and proceeded to shave her mons and the skin just above it. She ran her hands over her skin to check whether she had missed anything, and made another delicate pass with the razor. Then she propped a foot up on the ledge, spread her legs wide, and shaved carefully on both sides of her pussy lips.

I hadn't expected this. I don't know why not, since I knew that her pussy was bare, but I had never stopped to think particularly about when and how it got that way. Watching Molly take care of this operation was better than all the women I had known in my life standing stark naked in a row.

***

Sunday. I wondered what could possibly happen to top Saturday's performance. I had a new box of tissues sitting beside my computer, since I had run through the old one in a few days trying to contain big loads of cum before they hit my keyboard as I played and replayed my Molly files.

I'd fucked women in person lots of times before, and enjoyed it immensely. Why was I finding watching Molly so immensely satisfying, considering that I wasn't getting to touch her or do anything else besides watch? Maybe it was something about the power imbalance - the fact that she didn't know she was being watched. I guess I had to admit that I had developed a powerful voyeur fetish.

I never posted any of my files to the internet, partly because that would have been even more unethical than making them in the first place, and partly because I didn't want to share Molly with anyone else. She was mine, the totally private subject of my secret gaze, and I wanted to keep it that way.

I was getting a lot of my report done while I waited for Molly to get down to business in the shower. Finally the popup told me it was showtime.

I watched her go through the usual ritual of stripping, twisting up her hair, and soaping all her body parts. Then, when she was washing between her pussy lips, she kept rubbing more than usual. Standing under the hot water, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back with a faraway look as she rubbed more fiercely. She put her right foot back up on the ledge and spread her legs wide, her face straining and her breasts heaving as her middle two fingers flew over her clit. Her other hand went to her left breast and tweaked her nipple, hard.

The camera wasn't equipped with sound (must look into that), but it wasn't hard to figure out what was happening as her fingers stopped pressed over her clit, her eyes and mouth opened wide, and the strained look was replaced by a look of solid contentment.

As Molly swished the hot water over her pussy to sluice away the cum that must have been all over it, I balled up my sopping handful of tissues and tossed it in the wastebasket.

***

The following week, I decided to up my game. While Molly was in class, I installed several cameras in the bedroom, including one hidden in a light fixture right over the bed. It was equipped with night vision, just in case anything really interesting happened with the lights off.

Over the next week or so, I got lots of flashes of skin as Molly either dressed or undressed, but nothing that rivalled some of the better scenes in the shower. Until Wednesday evening, that is.

I was working away at another report, three thumbnails from the bedroom camera pinned to the upper left corner of my screen. I noticed activity in one, so I stopped what I was doing and clicked to zoom it to full screen.

Molly had been working away at her desk for at least a couple of hours. Now she stopped, made a frustrated face, and slammed her book down with an angry gesture. She stood up, pushed her chair back and stomped out of the frame.

She reappeared in the bed cam. She sat on the edge of the bed, opened her night-table drawer, and brought out several objects. It looked like a bottle of lube, a big phallic-shaped vibrator with a dagger-like hilt at the bottom of the insertable piece, and a small bullet vibrator.

She crossed her arms in her familiar way and shucked off her t-shirt, letting her breasts pop out and sit royally on her chest. She usually wore a bra when going out for the day, but I guess she liked to be comfortable when she was at home toiling on her assignments. Her sweat pants were next, and then her panties (back to red ones today).

I snapped to rapt attention as she spread a towel on the bed, then lay on her back and spread her legs wide to give me the best look up her snatch I had had yet. She picked up the dildo-shaped vibrator and squirted lube liberally over its entire length. I fully expected to see her slide it into her cunt, but no. She brought her legs up hign, rolling her pelvis up to reveal not just her pussy but also her puckered little asshole, dark against her otherwise light golden skin.

I watched in disbelief as she placed the tip of the vibe against her rosebud and pressed. The vibe slowly disappeared as it sank into her asshole right up to its little hilt, which I realized now was a safety guard to make sure it didn't disappear all the way up.

She flicked the thumbwheel to start the vibe, and worked it slowly in and out of her hole. Jesus! I sometime like a vibe up my ass when I'm masturbating - it presses on my prostate and ramps up the sensations in my cock as I rub it. I had a little collection of butt toys for that very purpose. But I didn't think women were into anal stimulation in the same way. I guess I had a lot more to learn about how women's bodies work than I realized.

Once Molly got the rhythm going in her ass, she used her other hand to bring the bullet vibe to her clit. The microphone on the new camera picked up her rhythmic gasps as she thrust the vibe in and out of her ass. Her face changed as she concentrated on the sensation coursing through her body from the two simultaneous sources of stimulation. The gasps turned into rhythmic vocalizations: "ah-ah-ah" as her orgasm got closer. She kept working herself higher and higher for what must have been at least five minutes, then abruptly pulled the bullet off her clit, lifted her shoulders up off the bed, and made a strangled "Nnnnggghttt" sound as she came.

As she came, a jet of clear fluid erupted from her pussy, arced up, and landed on the towel she had thoughtfully spread between her legs. I had seen women squirt in porn flicks before, but this was the first time I'd seen it live - well, almost live, since Mommy was just one floor away.

Molly dropped down flat on the bed, panting. She switched off the vibe in her ass but left it in there for a couple of minutes before slowly withdrawing it.

I looked down, chagrined. I had been so wrapped up in what I was seeing that I hadn't had time to grab for the tissues, and now there was a big splurge of cum running down the middle of my monitor and dripping into the keyboard.

***

A few weeks went by. I bought a new keyboard - I never did get the dried cum out of the other one. I started my mornings with a muffin and coffee in front of Molly showering, and occasionally shaving or jerking off. Once or twice as she was brushing her teeth and showing me her bare tits, I thought I saw her eyes flick briefly to the camera and a fleeting smile cross her lips, but I decided that I was just imagining it.

Sometimes the bedroom cams got an interesting masturbation performance, but more often just got some nice dressing/undressing shows. Then one evening, the bedroom perked up. I had never seen Molly bring a guy home - I guess she was such a serious student that she didn't have a lot of time for dating, although she was such a tempting piece of ass that I couldn't imagine guys not trying.

One Friday evening, that changed. Molly came in with a young man, about her age or maybe a bit older, a good-looking white guy with a gym body and a short, neat brown beard. They spent some time in the living room out of range of the camera, but I just worked away and kept an eye on the thumbnails.

Eventually they appeared in the bedroom. They sat on the edge of the bed and started making out - or maybe kept on making out, since I didn't know whether they were watching TV in the living room or groping each other's body parts, or maybe both. After a few minutes of passionate kissing, clothes started coming off, and they both ended up naked in a heated embrace.

Molly's hand slipped down and grasped the guy's stiff cock. He broke the embrace and rolled back a bit to let her get a better angle as she pumped his dick. After a while, she scootched down the bed so she could take it in her mouth and start blowing him.

I was impressed. His cock wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either, and Molly's delicate little mouth was doing things to it that I wouldn't have thought she could manage. She couldn't quite get him far enough in to kiss his balls, but pretty close to it. Clearly at least some of his cock was going down her throat, and she would hold him down there for quite a few seconds at a time. The look on his face told me that spectacular things were happening, even if I couldn't see them all.