My Voyeur Love Affair

I went to college at a medium sized university in Southern California. My junior year, I lived in a nice little one bedroom studio apartment off campus. My building was one of about ten two-story apartment buildings scattered around a nicely landscaped complex. My apartment was on the second floor of my building.

Out my front windows, I had a nice view of a grassy tree-filled area. But from my back windows, I looked across an asphalt driveway at the back windows of another apartment building. Most tenants kept their back blinds closed at night because of the lack of privacy that caused.

One evening I was sitting on my bed in just a pair of gym shorts with the blinds open. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the blinds of my neighbor behind me were slightly open and the back-lighting of the apartment displayed a person apparently peering through them and into my apartment. I assumed the person was watching me shirtless on the bed. From the shadowy figure, I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but I was somehow intrigued either way.

The person was still there several minutes later. I had to take a shower, so in a moment of whimsy, I stood with my back to the window and dropped my gym shorts, revealing my perfect 21 year-old smooth, hairless, bubble ass, framed by the tan lines on my back and legs that still carried over from summer. I stood there momentarily and then walked out of the room and into the bathroom.

By the time I reached the bathroom, my heart was pounding and I was fully erect. I guess I had a bit of a voyeuristic side to me I hadn't known about. I took a long hot shower that naturally included stroking while thinking about my peeping tom.

I dried off after the shower and toyed with the idea of walking back into the bedroom naked, but decided to wrap a towel around myself instead. I walked back into the bedroom and over to the window. Without looking directly at the window across the way, I could still see that the figure was back at the blinds. I stood there for a few seconds and then slowly closed my blinds.

I dropped the towel while fantasizing about the blinds still being open. I was rock hard. I was intensely aroused thinking about displaying my erect cock to my mysterious neighbor.

The next evening, I spent more time in my bedroom shirtless and in gym shorts. But the blinds never cracked. Same thing the next evening. Then, the third evening, I was sitting on the bed and actually saw my neighbor's blinds open slightly. My heart rate elevated and I leaned back farther on the pillow. As I read my college textbook, my cock grew hard involuntarily. Several times, I reach down to adjust it and draw the attention of my voyeur.

As I did the first night, I eventually stood up with my back to the window and dropped my shorts. I walked over to the dresser and lingered as if I were trying to find something on the dresser-top. Finally, I slowly walked out of the bedroom, having given my peeping tom another viewing of my tight ass.

After the shower, I returned to the room in my towel and stood at the window displaying my chest and mid-section. Making sure no other neighboring windows were open, I dropped the towel and stepped back a couple of steps to reveal my semi-erect cock. It was a brief showing as I closed the blinds after a few seconds.

I laid back on the bed and masturbated while fantasizing about my secretive friend. It didn't occur to me that it might be a woman. At this point, I assumed it had to be a man. Hopefully a good looking college classmate. My climax came quickly as I stared at the blinds and pretended they were wide open with my voyeur standing at his open window naked and stroking in concert with me.

That Saturday, I was home all day studying. At mid-day, I decided to take a walk to clear my head. Mid-terms were the following week, so my stress level was pretty high. I reached the sidewalk and took a left, proceeding on my walk. As I came around the corner, I realized I was approaching the front of my secret admirer's building. I counted to the third apartment where I knew he lived. Since his apartment was on the second floor, like mine, I didn't have a good view into the front room. And I didn't see anyone in any event.

I walked for about 15 minutes and then headed back. About a block from my neighbor's building, I saw a man come out of the front apartment building door to check his mail. My heart jumped into my throat because I thought I recognized him. As I got closer, he turned to look toward the street and I got a clear view of his face. My brain said, "Professor Nathan?" I was stunned and nearly stopped in my tracks. He didn't look my way before he walked back into the building.

Professor Nathan taught Art History at my university. I took his class first semester of my sophomore year. I will never forget the class - not because I fell in love with Art History; but because I secretly fell in love with Professor Nathan. And I was not the only one. I am certain virtually every female student in the class was in love with him as well. Word among the students was that his class was hard to get into and was disproportionately full of females because of it.

I had guessed that he was in his early 30s, about 5'11" with a trim, athletic build, dark brown hair, and hazel eyes with just a touch of emerald green as if it were painted in with the tip of an artist's brush. His hair was medium length, just long enough to brush over the top of his ears and add to that sophisticated European look. The tiny amount of gray in his temples was obviously premature, but gave him an added look of wisdom and sophistication. Suffice to say, when he walked into a room - any room - he commanded your attention. Even his voice projected confidence, but was soothing to your ears like the soft, full sound of a cello.

I was obsessed with him for the entire semester. But with the attention he drew from the girls, I assumed his was straight. While he didn't return their attention in an obvious way, I assumed that was because he was smart enough and confident enough to know such attention could only lead to trouble on a college campus. Nonetheless, the attention and fawning eyes were always there.

I thought about it and decided it was just a bizarre coincidence that the professor lived in the same building as my voyeur. It was too good to be true. And it actually didn't make any sense. Why would that dream of a man be interested in watching me?

The cat and mouse window game happened only twice over the next couple of weeks. My towel drops and fantasies provided incredible relief from the pressure of mid-terms. And I masturbated at least once a day fantasizing that my admirer was actually the professor.

Early in the afternoon on the Saturday following my last mid-term, I decided to head to the community swimming pool in our complex. There were probably 20 people there, all adults. The complex was heavily populated by students from my school. But there were a handful of small young families and a fair number of older non-college adults.

I laid my towel on a lounge chair, entered the pool and swam about six laps. The water was refreshing. It was nice to be relaxing after two weeks of mid-term hell. I slipped out of the pool and walked over to my chair, laid back and enjoyed the sun. It was a beautiful 80 degree late October day in Southern California with plenty of sun to rekindle a fading summer tan.

I was daydreaming, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Professor Nathan enter the pool area in a swimsuit, tee-shirt and flip flops. He glanced my way, but didn't show any visual sign of acknowledgement. He laid his towel on a lounge chair on the other side of the pool directly across from me and pulled his tee-shirt over his head.

It was like a slow motion scene in a movie. His body was even more amazing than I imagined. I guessed he was at least part Italian because of his natural light olive skin-tone. He had a modest amount of dark well-groomed chest hair. He was not overly muscular, but his chest was solid, and the tightness of his stomach was that of a man who took his ab workouts seriously. His muscular legs suggested that biking fit into his fitness routine.

As usual, he looked like he just stepped out of a television commercial. He was gorgeous. And I could see that he was drawing the usual attention from women of all ages sitting around the pool. Even their sunglasses couldn't completely hide their stares.

Feeling bold, I tried to make eye contact. But he didn't look my way. He just laid back and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun. He was confirming my assumption that he was not the voyeur in my fantasy.

After about 20 minutes, I decided to head back to the apartment. But rather than walk directly to the gate, I walked around the pool so that I could walk right by him. As I walked by, he opened his eyes and looked up. I feigned surprise and said, "Oh my gosh, Professor Nathan! I didn't know you lived here. Nice to see you!" Assuming he didn't remember my name, I re-introduced myself and said I took his Art History class a year ago.

He said, "Yes, of course I do remember you. Great to see you. You live here?"

I smiled and said, "Yes, I'm in building 400 right over there. Apartment 404. I would love to have you over for a beer sometime." I smiled at him with my eyes. "Well, it was great seeing you."

He smiled back. "I would love that. Nice seeing you as well."

At that age, I had the body of a tight young gymnast. So if he were my voyeur, he would find it hard not to glance. So I paused, and sure enough, for a second, his eyes drifted down to my torso, over my chest and back up to my eyes. I smiled. My heart fluttered. I turned and walked away.

Back at the apartment, I took a shower just to calm my beating heart. Just walking back, I felt my cock grow semi-hard. In the shower, it grew to full mast. I pleasured myself briefly, but wanted to save that for later.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I was brushing my hair when I heard a knock at the door. I froze. My initial thought was, "No way." My heart started racing out of my chest.

The knock came a second time. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked to the door. Looking through the peep hole, I saw him. I was stunned.

I opened the door in just my towel and said, "Sorry, I just got out of the shower. What a surprise!" He was still in his swimsuit, holding his towel and shirt in his hand. It looked like he just recently got out of the swimming pool. His skin was glistening.

He smiled. "I hope I didn't intrude. But that cold beer sounded terrific." That voice.

I opened the door and invited him in. I was still in shock. And I was still not 100% sure this meant he was the voyeur. But the prospects just improved.

I closed the door and he followed me to the kitchen. I open the refrigerator and grabbed a couple of beers, making sure to lean forward just enough to accentuate my tight, round ass in the damp towel. We walked to the small dining room, pulled back a couple of dining chairs and sat across from each other. I sat back in the chair and parted my legs slightly, allowing the towel to open just enough that if he worked at it, he could catch a glimpse.

Those eyes. They were mesmerizing. They were inviting. They were soothing. They drew you in. I suddenly visualized him leaning forward and kissing me. I felt a flutter under my towel.

Breaking my momentary trance, I told him his class had been one of my favorites. He said he loved teaching at the university. We talked about the apartment complex and how nice it was to be so close to the school. Five minutes of small talk of no consequence. He leaned back and glanced down occasionally, but not enough to be considered "taking the bait."

Deciding there was no time like the present to make a bold move, I said, "If you will excuse me for a minute, I'm going to slip out of this towel and into some shorts."

I stood and turned to walk slowly to the bedroom. After about five steps, I threw caution to the wind and tugged at the towel. It fell off of me, exposing my naked, round ass. I knew my ass looked good, especially with the newly pronounced tan lines from laying by the pool. With the towel in my hand, I walked down the short hallway and into the bedroom.

I thought I heard footsteps, so I stood in the bedroom with my back to the door, pretending to dry my hair with the towel. I heard the steps close behind me. I tossed the towel on the bed and stood still.

I could feel him right behind me. Then I felt the warmth of his breath on my neck. He put his hands on my hips, kissed my right shoulder and then my neck. I sighed and tilted my head back as he cupped the cheeks of my ass and kissed my shoulder again.

His hands reached under my arms and caressed my chest. I could feel my cock grow. Still in his swimsuit, he pressed against my ass so I could feel his erection. He continued to run his fingers over my my chest as he kissed my neck and shoulders and then slowly worked his way down to my stomach.

My cock was aching to be touched, but his hands didn't seem to feel any urgency. He ran his fingers over my stomach and probed my belly button, his breath warm against my neck. I thought I was going to explode. My cock was throbbing so hard it ached.

Finally, he reached down and took my cock in his right hand, exploring it like a sightless person would explore. Not stroking, not groping. Just feeling every contour, every vein, every throb. He cupped my balls and gently massaged them. With his left hand caressing my balls, he gently stroked my cock with the other. I groaned and leaned my head back into him. He continued to stroke me as he leaned his head forward and nibbled my ear. I was almost breathless.

He released me and grabbed my hips, encouraging me to turn around to face him. I looked into his eyes. Those eyes. I and every girl in class dreamed about them. They drew me in and I felt like I could get lost in them. He stared into my eyes for a few moments and then tipped his head and met my lips with his.

I closed my eyes and instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck as he reached around to cup my ass and pull me tight against him. I ground my cock against his and surrendered to him. His lips were like velvet. He was a great kisser. Passionate, not aggressive. Soft, not stiff. He touched my tongue with his, but didn't probe my mouth. He alternated between making out with me and gently biting each of my lips. I was lost in his touch, willing to give him anything he wanted. Anything.

I ran my hands over his chest, feeling the beautifully groomed hair and the stiffness of his nipples. He reached down and untied his swim suit. I grabbed his hips and backed up a step, pulling him toward me as I sat on the edge of the bed. I reached for his suit and slowly started to pull it down over his hips. I wanted the reveal to be slow. I pulled downward until just the head was poking out of the top, then leaned forward to tickle it with my tongue like a lollipop. Then I tugged downward until his full and glorious cock and balls were on display just a few inches from my face. I let go of the suit and let it drop to the floor.

It was the most magnificent cock I had ever seen. Not too large. Certainly not small. The head was perfectly in proportion, with a pronounced smooth rim. His shaft was perfectly straight and the skin had the same light olive tone as the rest of his body, albeit not tanned.

As I touched the base of his shaft with my tongue, the tip touched the top of my forehead. I began running my tongue up and down the shaft. I grabbed the shaft and gently massaged it as I ran my tongue over the head. He sighed slightly as I tickled the tight strip of skin at the base of his helmet.

I cupped his balls in one hand and his shaft with the other, leaning it down toward my open mouth. I took the head and then the shaft into my mouth. Even the taste of his cock was heaven. He ran his fingers through my hair as I began to slowly suck him. I would pull almost all the way off of him, run my tongue over the head, and then take him to the back of my throat. Over and over again I devoured his cock like it was the first cock I have ever tasted. I wanted badly to pleasure him. I wanted this to be the best he had ever experienced.

After a good while, he pulled out of my mouth and leaned down to kiss me. I devoured his lips like an eager puppy tasting a new treat. He pushed me back gently, encouraging me to lay on the bed. I scooted on to the bed and propped my head up with a pillow as he climbed up and straddled me on all fours.

He ran his fingers over my chest and down to my stomach, then grabbed my cock. As he stroked me, he leaned in and kissed me again. I wanted him to kiss me forever. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to devour me. I wanted to give him the fuck of his life.

He took each of my nipples between his teeth and massaged the tips with his tongue. At the slightest flinch, he softened his bite and made sure my pleasure was his only goal. My entire body shivered as he teased them.

He moved down and took my cock into his mouth. I arched my back and groaned at the feeling. He was clearly an expert at this. His tongue was magic. His pace was perfect. He massaged my balls in perfect harmony as his mouth made love to my cock. I was in heaven. Then I felt it coming. I knew if he continued for 20 more seconds, I was going to explode. So I gently grabbed his head and pulled out of his mouth. He understood.

He kissed me again and said, "Can you please turn over?" I did as I was told, resting my head in the pillow.

He parted my legs and positioned himself between them. His hands grabbed my ass cheeks and massaged, pulling them apart so that he could see the depths between. He laid between my legs and began nibbling on my ass cheeks. It tickled, but was exhilarating. He ran his tongue up and down just inside. I buried my head in the pillow, parted my legs slightly and raised my ass to give him better access.

His tongue explored and then focused on the button in between. I felt the tip of his tongue probe me. I raised my ass higher, inviting the probe. He pulled my cheeks apart, inspecting my entrance. Then, he pulled them wider apart and began seriously probing me with his tongue. The feeling was extraordinary, and I thought I was going to explode into the bed sheets.

After a bit, he pulled away and reached underneath to massage my cock and balls. I gyrated my hips, displaying my pleasure.

I reached over to the bedside table, slid open the drawer and pulled out a small tube of lubrication. He took it from my hand and began to apply it in a circular motion on the outside of, and then just inside my opening. I felt his finger slowly work its way inside me, testing my tightness. Although I was not a virgin, I had enjoyed selective experience at that age and was still modestly tight.

I felt him rise up and place the tip of his cock at my entry point. I again raised my ass, then reached back with both hands and pulled my cheeks apart.

He was gentle. He probed me with just the tip. Then, he slowly pushed until I felt the edge of his helmet pop through the opening. It felt incredible. I wanted more. I wanted all of him. I wanted my voyeur, my college fantasy, my mystery man, to fuck me. I wanted him to crave me like I craved him.

He slowly and gently probed deeper and deeper until his glorious cock was buried to the hilt inside me. I relaxed and felt his balls resting against me. He stayed still inside me and leaned forward to kiss my neck, my shoulders and the very top of my back. The two sensations together were almost more than I could take.

He pulled his cock out to the edge of his helmet and then slowly entered me again. He repeated this several times and then started to fuck me at a moderate pace. I raised my ass to meet him every time he pushed deep inside. I gripped his cock with my ass to give him maximum pleasure.