Timing is Everything Pt. 01

This is a 2 part story and contains voyeurism, non-con and blackmail. If you don't care for those things, please continue your search for a more desirable tale. Constructive comments are always welcome.

Brad's Story

"Timing is Everything" is an overused cliché, but it is often true. I had my own experience of it a few years ago and my life, and the lives of some others, were changed forever. Of course, the cliché is supposed to refer to planning the timing of our own actions to reach some desired goal. My own timing was completely random and accidental. But it did help me reach one of the goals of my life. Unfortunately, it also led me to do some cruel things which I have regretted ever since.

Before I begin my story, let me explain a few things about myself and where I live. They will help you understand some important details of this tale. Please stay with me for at least a few paragraphs and the rest of the story will make more sense.

I was 34 years old at the time of this these events and was employed as controller in a medium sized manufacturing company. The controller's job is clearly defined and limited. I'm not the guy who thinks up new products or creates a marketing campaign. I work 9 to 5 and don't mind it a bit. Other than during tax time, I have almost no work stress. I have plenty of time to pursue my hobbies. I really like my easy lifestyle.

I lived, and still live, in a fairly small city in Ohio. I won't name it or give the real names of the involved people to avoid embarrassing anyone, including me. I had been divorced for several years after a short and tumultuous marriage. My ex-wife had started cheating on me within 6 months of our wedding - not good for the male ego. I moved to my current town to escape the baggage of our formerly mutual friends. I had made good progress in getting past the emotional scars of that relationship, but was not actively looking for a replacement wife. I had only a few friends from work - accountants just aren't all that fun to socialize with. I casually dated a few women and enjoyed their company. But they always remained casual in my mind. I had had sex with some of them, but was in a dry spell at the time the events below. "Dry Spell" means no sex with a partner for more than 12 months.

I live in a housing development where most home lots are around one acre. We know who our neighbors are, but not really what they are about. I was lucky enough to buy a lot that backed onto a large, undeveloped area of forests, fields and swamps. I'm a bow hunter and my favorite form of relaxation is quietly stalking game. So, this wild area right behind my house was the main reason I bought the place. The house was nice, not luxurious, but I had plenty of room for myself and my hobbies. It could easily hold another person, but I wasn't much interested in that after the divorce.

My other hobby is video. I'm no professional, though I have shot a few weddings for friends. I enjoy capturing difficult and attractive scenes. I then spend hours editing the scenes, adding appropriate music and inserting photos or video from other sources to build interesting videos. Of course, "interesting" has different meanings with different people. But, my friends are always supportive and try not to fall asleep during my presentations. Many of my videos are on YouTube. The popular ones have had up to 20 views. Yeah, I know.

My next door neighbors on both sides also back against the woods. The people to the North of me installed large hedges along both sides of their backyard to ensure privacy, I think. I'm not normally a nosy person, but often when I went out hunting or returned home I would glance into their yard from the cover of the woods. I never saw anyone out there, so I sort of wondered why they had erected the hedges.

I had met those neighbors the day after I moved in. In the late afternoon, Alex and Marcie Henderson rang my bell and presented a beautiful apple pie as a house warming gift. I like to get to know my neighbors so I invited them in. Of course, the house was full of boxes and I had to clear off a space on the couch for them. My refrigerator was stocked with beer, wine, soft drinks and ice cream. Hey, I was a single guy living alone. They both opted for soft drinks. I opened a beer.

Alex was a big man, I'd guess 6'2" and 220 pounds. I could see why people would look up to him as a leader. Marcie was about 5'8" with a knockout figure and very pretty face - just stunning to a man in my deprived condition. Both had sparkling smiles and made you feel like a friend right away. I guessed they were in their mid-30s.

They were very talkative and happily told me everything about their lives and their joint occupation. Alex was the pastor at the local evangelical church and Marcie was his assistant. They had both been raised in town and seemed to know and be known by almost everyone in the city. I listened closely as I wanted to try to remember the details for future social gatherings. And there were a lot of details.

After a few polite questions about me, they asked about my religious affiliation. I've never joined any church and told them so. I'm not an atheist you understand, I've just never felt the need for an organized religion in my life. They seemed to be shocked at my dissolute ways and immediately invited me to their services. I smiled and made a non-committal commitment to stop by some Sunday and sample their wares. Before they left, Marcie gave me a big smile and a warm, two handed handshake while looking directly into my eyes. That gave me a little thrill.

A few weeks later, I actually did go to their church, knowing it would please them and perhaps minimize their efforts to further convert me to something. They greeted me and all of the other parishioners at the door of the church and introduced me to several of them. I sat in the middle of the church. I wanted to sit in the backrow, but I knew that would be rude. Alex took to the pulpit and began a very earnest sermon. I don't remember the subject, but obviously Alex believed deeply in his theology and was devoted to his church.

After the sermon, Marcie took the stage and made announcements about religious classes, social events and fundraising efforts for the new chapel in the next town. She also had a commanding stage presence and my complete attention during her speech. I know you're not supposed to have carnal thoughts about women in church, but some things just can't be helped. The classes she listed seemed pretty conventional for a church, but rather preachy if I may use that word. One class caught my attention: "How to stay faithful in your marriage". I wondered what kind of advice they would give to someone who is considering adultery.

Eventually I learned that they actually ran three churches. The church in my town was the primary, but they had two more in other towns, each about 100 miles away. I was impressed with their organization, but I didn't find time to go back there for several months - until I had a reason to go.

The very lucky timing I mentioned earlier happened on a dark and dreary day a few weeks after my visit to their church. I was coming back from another fruitless hunt at the end of the day. I had just enough light to find my way through the woods toward my house. But I must have missed my usual blaze and found myself coming out of the woods directly behind the Henderson's house. No problem. I turned to walk the 200 feet toward my own yard when a bright light shown out from their house. It caught my attention and when I focused on it I realized it was a window on the back of their house. As I looked, I saw Marcie walk back and forth across the window. It was only about 100 feet from my position so I could see pretty well. I could see a dresser with mirror on the opposite wall of the room and assumed it was their bedroom. Any decent man would have simply turned away and walked home.

But I have the voyeuristic tendency found in many men, so I stood there watching from the cover of the trees. Marcie soon walked back in front of the dresser, putting her right in the middle of my view into the room. Then she reached down to her waist, grabbed the hem of her shirt with both hands and pulled it over her head. I was frozen to my spot. She tossed the shirt to the side and turned around to face the mirror. Then she reached behind and unhooked her bra. She slid it off her arms and put it on the dresser. I had a clear view of her entire bare back. But the breasts I was anxious to see were hidden from my view. I realized that I might be able to see her orbs in the mirror, but that was also blocked by her position. I felt my heart rate climb and my breathing get shorter. As always, it's seeing what you are not supposed to see that is arousing.

Then, to my delight, she turned to face me and I had a clear view of her wondrous breasts. Firm and full, probably a C cup, her tits jostled slightly as she moved. Then they dropped out of sight when she grabbed the waistband of her pants and pushed them down all the way to the floor. I should mention that the bottom of the window was at waist height so I could see nothing below that. She straightened back up - ahhh - and reached forward and pulled a nightgown up in front of her. I saw that she was on the far side of their bed, which was just below my field of vision. She raised the nightgown over her head pulling her boobs up slightly - hmmmm - then dropped it down over her head. She left the bedroom and turned out the light. I figured the show was over and slowly wandered over to my yard while adjusting my cock in my pants.

Of course, I played that movie over and over again in my head. How perfect my timing had been. I had walked out of the woods at just the moment she went into her bedroom to change. I would never be that lucky again so I burned those images into my memory for later use on lonely nights.

While contemplating the event as I struggled to go to sleep, I realized there was one thing very unusual about that window and bedroom. There were no curtains or blinds in sight. Evidently they assumed that no one could be in the woods at night, so they didn't bother to cover the window. That meant that every night when they got ready for bed, they would put on a show for any appreciative audience in the woods.

Being the sex-addled man-child that I am, I was soon out hunting late many afternoons, returning after dusk. I wasn't yet so bold to just walk over behind their lot, hide behind a tree and wait for a show. After a few nonproductive nights I finally saw another performance. But this time, Alex was stripping off his shirt when Marcie came into the room. She came up behind him dressed in a slip, kissed him on the neck and wrapped her arms around him, running her hands over his bare chest. I had a clear view of Alex's face, and it wasn't happy. He turned around, removed her hands and said something to her. Then he lightly kissed her and walked away. Now it was Marcie's face that wasn't happy. I couldn't understand how any man with a heartbeat could turn down an invitation from such a gorgeous woman. Oh well. His loss.

Now, I'll admit that I enjoy watching naked women, and do so whenever I have the chance. But I'm not a snoop into other people's relationships, so I walked on home. Of course I thought about the action that evening and decided that he evidently wasn't interested in sex at the moment - or maybe any moment. Too bad, she is a very attractive woman - especially when naked.

You can probably guess where the story went from there. I spent too much time hiding in the woods, waiting for the moment she would go into the bedroom to change. I found that I also had a partial view into their family room and watched them watch TV for many evenings. She went to bed at various times, depending on the TV schedule. But, I was wasting too much time waiting for the occasional visual reward. I cursed myself for my depraved voyeur tendency and for spending useless time in the dark woods. I had a real life, not just a life as a desperate, horny voyeur. But, of course, I couldn't stop myself more than a day or two before coming up with some reason to go back in the woods. Until I was blessed with another lucky timing.

I gave up waiting in the woods one night and had started toward home when the light finally came on. But before I ran back to my viewing point I noticed another window now lit. This was on the side of the house facing toward my own. I had never noticed it before because I was always watching from directly behind their house. I moved through the woods and into my own yard to evaluate the new opportunity. There were several trees between our houses so my view was partially blocked. This window also had no curtains, but was, obviously, also in their bedroom. I could probably get a great view if I got closer, but that meant actually trespassing in their yard and I might be visible to them. I didn't want to cross that line.

But the side window did provide another, important opportunity. My office, where I spend most evenings editing video, is on the side of my house facing toward the Henderson's. I could see their side window through the trees anytime it was lighted, just by glancing out my office window. That meant that I could sit in the comfort of my office, doing something productive, until I saw the window light up. Then I simply hustled out my back door, through the woods and took up position to watch the show. Just as depraved, but much more efficient. I must say that my private viewing of Marcie Henderson began to build an interest beyond pure voyeurism.

Things started to get interesting a few months later when I was returning home one Saturday evening from a deer hunt (empty handed). It was dusk as I approached my property line and noticed motion off to my right. I froze, as any good hunter does. But I quickly realized it wasn't a buck, it was a man. As I watched, he walked directly from the woods into the Henderson's yard and up to their house. I feared he was a burglar, but his confident walk and lack of head turning indicated he belonged there. He proceeded up the back porch, opened the rear door, and walked right in without hesitation.

I didn't recognize the guy in the dim light, but I knew it wasn't Alex Henderson. This guy was only about 5'7". And Alex never walked in the woods and only entered his house from the front. I stowed my hunting gear and took my usual peeping Tom position behind their house. I only had to wait a few minutes until the bedroom light came on. Marcie walked into my view from the right and stopped in front of the dresser. She was wearing a sheer silk blouse which opened down the front, almost to her navel. Then she started to strip, in a slow, sensuous way. She unbuttoned and then slowly peeled off the blouse. She threw it to the right and rocked her hips back and forth as she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She turned to the left and bent all the way over to remove the pants - her bikini-style panties showing off her incredible ass. At least I think they did. Remember, I could only see into the room from waist-height up. She came upright again and turned toward the right and smiled a big smile. She slowly reached behind her back and undid her bra strap. Then she held the bra cups and slowly pulled them way, revealing her bounteous breasts and dark nipples.

I was getting very stiff, and very curious. I had never seen her dress or undress like that. It was almost as if she was performing for me. But it wasn't for me. At that point a man walked into the room from the right and wrapped his arms around her. It was certainly not Alex. My already wide eyes opened even further. He looked familiar and was obviously aroused.

Marcie then proceeded to take his clothes off while he suckled at her tits. They kissed passionately and pawed each other while stripping off their last bits of clothing. Then with a shriek, he pushed her down onto the bed - and out of my site. I realized that I had heard her shriek. That meant that the window was open in some way letting sound out into the universe. My universe.

I was very frustrated when I heard them moaning and screaming. After all of my time spent watching from the woods, I couldn't see the best show of all. At one point I saw the guy's bare ass repeatedly rising into view and then dropping down quickly. Each time there was a loud, two-person moan. He kept that up for a few minutes before I heard a roar and all motion and noise stopped.

I waited patiently in the woods, swatting mosquitos, until they finally rose from the bed. They kissed some more while sitting up, then she went into the bathroom and closed the door. He dressed himself and waited for her return. She came out of the bathroom in a robe and they quietly walked out of the bedroom together.

A short while later he came out of the backdoor and walked into the woods near me. Then he turned and walked away from me along the path that parallels the development property line. I let him get ahead and then practiced my most stealthy tracking skills to keep him in site. (Pretty tough in the dark) He walked about 200 yards, behind several houses, and then turned into a backyard. He crossed the yard, opened the backdoor and walked in. Must be home I surmised.

I walked back through the woods, counting 4 houses as I passed.

My cunning, filthy-minded brain was processing all of the information. The pastor's wife, who teaches a class about marital fidelity, was having an affair with a neighbor. Obviously, they didn't believe in the sixth or tenth commandments. At first, I thought it was none of my business. This happens all the time and I had no particular relationship with any of the parties involved. I could continue my voyeur escapades without guilt since that was a much smaller sin than adultery.

My ex-wife had cheated on me and broken my heart. Somewhere, deep in my soul, I have a sense of justice and righteousness. I was usually able to silence that sense when I was doing something wrong. But when other people are doing the sinning...

The next Sunday I attended their church again and listened closely. Marcie again listed the scheduled classes and events for the coming week. I noted that the "How to stay faithful in your marriage" class was scheduled for Tuesday evening. I arranged to be free that evening and walked into the church social hall right at 7:00. Marcie recognized me and welcomed me, but was obviously confused about why a single man would attend this class. I had foreseen that question and told her that I was still trying to understand how my now-ended marriage could have been saved. She gave a sympathetic nod and went to the front of the room.

I was surprised that there were about 12 people in the class. I had figured that those who had been unfaithful in the past wouldn't want their neighbors to know about it. And those who were considering cheating in the future would be even more discreet. Then I realized that there were no couples in the room. Only individual spouses, mostly women, perhaps those with suspicions.

Marcie gave a canned speech about how trust is the basis for any marriage and spouses must always maintain trust with their partner. She described trust-building exercises that you can get from magazine articles. She described little activities that she and Alex used to maintain their trust. She also referenced, anonymously, couples from town who had not kept their trust alive and one spouse or both had committed many sins. She explained that God didn't like sinners like that. That's when I started choking on my coffee.

After the coffee break, she led a discussion that the audience quickly turned into a search for ways to detect a cheating spouse. It was clear where their interests were focused. One woman gave a "hypothetical" example of a husband who regularly took long walks alone around the same time each night. How could she catch him, she wondered, without appearing to accuse him of cheating. They were all afraid to appear overly suspicious, even though their spouse was possibly fooling around. I felt sorry for them. Marcie just said it was another opportunity for the wives to trust their husbands.