The Happy Voyeur
Characters: Amber, Lenny's mother; Lenny, the son; Martin, Amber's husband, now deceased; Lois, the Episcopal pastor
Chapter 1
If I were asked to describe Lenny, I would have used something more descriptive than calling Lenny a moron. A moron has an IQ between 50 and 70, and such a person would be hard pressed to find a job. Lenny once was hired to sort screws, and he was fired after two weeks because he was slow and felt the job was beneath him. He was referred by the lady at the unemployment office, and he thought he'd have an office of his own. This was because he was a college graduate, being a business major. He was told his job description made no mention of having an office. He did require supervision, and the woman who supervised him had an office. She spent more time in the ladies room than she did checking to see how many screws Lenny had sorted, because Lenny worked for a defense contractor and his productivity wasn't that important. His was a 'make work' job like other low level jobs in the defense industry. He didn't require a clearance because sorting screws wasn't something that impacted national security. He didn't work for Boeing or Lockheed and he had no idea what those people did. He assumed it was something related to our national defense. Those people had clearances and some were top secret and women or men in those jobs didn't know what the hell the guy in the next cubicle was doing. But they sure were not sorting screws! The catch phrase was a 'need to know'. Something like the mysteries in the Catholic Church.
Moron is not used so much today, as it's been replaced by mildly retarded. Thus we can't call Lenny retarded, it's just he preferred to stare at his mother's ass than bury himself in books. He did go to college and majored in business. This gave him lots of time to peek at his mother, whether she was in the kitchen fixing dinner, or up in her bedroom primping herself for a date. Lenny managed to earn a BA, with a minor in something or other, and he dated some hot chicks. He was popular with the girls because he was well hung and had an appreciation for the female form. In simple English, he preferred females with a plump ass, and low-slung heavy tits. Now at 21 years old, he was old enough to drink. That was his great desire, to be able to walk into a bar and order a beer. He was legal.
He did have hobbies, and he called them projects. He was a Gemini and he never saw a project through to the end. He would delegate. Lenny was not a creative person, and you know creative people usually make good lovers. Usually Lenny's mini-projects were fairly simple. He had no intentions of learning Sanskrit even though he was trying to plank an Indian's wife. The woman was only interested in how often he could get her off and didn't give a shit whether he could translate the Gita. She kept mumbling at him in Hindi to lick her ass, but Lenny was still at the learner's stage, where fucking was your basic 'in-and-out' pokey-pokey. She had a lovely hairy ass and kept trying to push his nose in that direction. He could not believe a woman married to a guy making a 7-figure income would allow herself to be fucked senseless.
Otherwise, Lenny's sex life was dull. It stunk. There was no variety, nothing creative about his approach. He went to the library and took out books on sex. He found out there were hundred's of ways you could fuck a woman. He quickly learned to put his face between a woman's legs and lick her like his life depended on it. After the woman went into hysterics, he'd figure out what to do next. Sure, she wanted his cock inside her, but how? Frontal, doggy style, inverted ... it was all so confusing.
His first woman, a divorcee who took his cherry, told him to just stick it in and nature would do the rest. The old 'guy on top' attitude, called the missionary position. After a while it was boring. His partner was bored too. When his date wanted to get on top, Lenny was afraid of giving up control. There was one thing Lenny hadn't done -- fuck his mother! And she wouldn't be whoring around. She's be all his!
Chapter 2
If his mother was a big woman with a moustache, you might say Lenny was a wild and crazy guy. But lucky for Lenny, Amber was a hot-assed female. Like a lot of women in her age group, Amber's pussy throbbed constantly. No matter if she jammed a 12-inch vibrator up her hole, used a cucumber, or a thick rubber dildoe, her pussy refused to stop throbbing. She was dying for some real fucking.
Now that her husband was deceased, her thoughts focused on her son. He was not a kid. He was over 21, and she knew he peeked at her from a hole in the bedroom wall. It was natural to be curious about his mother, she told herself. The wall was thin and she could hear his heavy breathing when she wiped her pussy. It excited her.
Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, she turned to a front view, then profile, then lifted her heavy boobs, and tweaked her long nipples, she always finished by seeing how wet her privates were. She knew she was hot, and she knew she ought to set up a counseling session with Lois.
Being the pastor at St Thomas Episcopal church, Lois was too curvy to be in the church, making home visits to the sick and bed ridden. Lois did not have a healing ministry, but any guy she called on had a stiffie, even if he was 85 years old. It was obvious that Lois could have any woman or man she wanted. But in the back of her mind, it was Amber who caught her eye. And it was Lois that married Martin and Amber. It was natural that they become friends, more like girlie-girlie friends because Lois wasn't getting much action and Amber felt Lois should be getting more action. The Bible says the Lord hates whiners.
Amber was a feast for the eyes; she admired the contours of her bottom cheeks. Best of all, she loved her thick bush that sprouted boldly upon the plump curving of her mount. She knew that was the reason Martin married her. Martin loved hairy women.
Chapter 3
With a fashion wedding, Martin and Amber were married in San Diego, California. Photographers usually book economy weddings and budget weddings, but a fashion wedding means you hire a wedding gown designer, wedding planners and spend thousands on a gourmet meal for 500 people, not to mention a 14-piece live band. No DJ's at a fashion wedding!
Amber wanted a large bridal party so she told her entire sorority to get involved. She had eight bridesmaids, as well as the maid of honor. Martin had eight guys from the tax office. His boss was his best man, Charles. Martin wanted Buddy Rich and his band, but Buddy told them to piss off because he wouldn't lower himself to play a wedding gig. Amber settled for the VIP's, a band out of LA who had done some fashion wedding gigs. Moreover, they could all read music.
On their honeymoon, they stayed at the Coronado Hotel, a gorgeous 5-star hotel with lighted tennis courts. The Coronado is listed in San Diego. Amber wanted to play tennis but Martin wanted to fuck all night long. Actually Martin wanted Amber to put on a show, and play with herself. Even though Martin worked out at the gym, he had a weak heart. There was no way he could fuck all night.
Amber admitted she had dated a few guys when she was in school, but Martin spent most of his time getting his CPA, and servicing clients who were being investigated for shady real estate deals. After being married only three years, Martin found out his health was worse and he stopped going to the gym. As it were, he gained more weight, had a stroke, and died on December 31st, the end of the calendar year.
Amber remembered Martin as a thoughtful man, hardly a pervert. Just because you like to watch your wife play with herself, this hardly makes you a pervert. A woman enjoys watching a man beat off while she toys with her clit. She fuels his imagination, and he rewards her with a American Express credit card. Amber must have had over 200 pairs of shoes in her closet.
Chapter 4
With Martin gone, Amber was restless. Even though she had more than enough savings to live on, she wanted to find a job. Since she was a English major in college, she landed a job with an advertising agency, as an assistant to the creative director. Essentially she worked for a copy writer, George, who had a foul mouth but who had won several print awards. He spent most of his time salivating over Amber's ass.
After a day of fending off George's advances Amber was wondering if she had chosen the right job. Sure, she made a decent salary. But if was no fun coming home with her panty hose ripped and buttons missing from her blouse. She had a terrific figure, with curves in all the right places, but it left her hot and turned on. When she undressed, she imagined herself on stage, teasing, doing a bump-and-grind. It was fun, pretending middle aged men were watching her, one hand in their pants until they creamed in their trousers. Sometimes she even pretended her son was watching her.
* * *
Lenny was afraid to breathe. He had his eyes against the peephole, and he was afraid she'd hear his breathing or the pounding of his heart. His mother was on the other side of the wall, and she was beginning to undress. He'd been waiting almost an hour for her to come up to her bedroom. Now it was starting, and he was going crazy with anticipation.
It wasn't the first time. He'd made the peephole about a month ago and he'd been able to see her naked a dozen times. But each time the excitement was as intense as the first time. His mother had become his obsession. He'd always had fantasies about her, but ever since he started watching her through the peephole he'd been thinking about nothing else.
She had her blouse off now. Amber was a beautiful woman in her prime. She kept her dark hair cut short in a page boy style that revealed the elegance of her face and neck. She had a trim athletic body with solid tits. The soft white bra she now wore was filled to capacity, the lace strained and sheer enough to show the shadows of her nipples.
Lenny knew all about her bras. The soft filmy bras and the more substantial bras she sometimes wore with certain clothes. Size thirty-six with a C cup. He wanted the bra off now. He wanted her tits swinging, hanging, and the light brown nipples visible. He never failed to be excited by her tits. He was young and he'd had girls, but he'd never had a girl with tits as beautiful as his mother's.
As she usually did, she removed the bra before undressing any farther. Unhooking the clasp, pulling the shoulder straps down, then peeling the cups away. Her tits were suddenly free, spilling out, jiggling as she moved to drop the bra into a drawer. Lenny thought her nipples were perfect. The areole weren't too large, but the points were as thick as a finger and long enough so that her nipples always looked stiff. He had daydreams about sucking them. They made his mouth water, and now as he watched her tits bobbing around, he pulled his cock out of his open fly and began stroking it.
Stripped to the waist as she was, his mother puttered around at her dresser awhile. She still wore the rest of her office clothes, a pencil skirt, nylons and heels. Lenny tried to calm himself as he waited for the rest of the show. Sometimes he thought his heart would explode, blast a hole right through the wall and he'd fall inside her bedroom at her feet.
Finally she started undressing again, unzipping her skirt, pulling and pushing it down over her ass and thighs and ultimately stepping out of it. Her ass was glorious, bulging in her tan pantyhose, not too plump, but round and firm and as mouth-watering as her tits. The split, the crack of her ass, looked deep and wonderful and Lenny wanted to bury himself in it.
He told himself he would gladly die suffocated by her ass. He would give his left arm to sniff the crack and his right arm to lick it.
Christ, you're crazy, he thought. You'll go bonkers and get taken away in a wagon. He told himself he didn't care one way or the other as long as he had some time to enjoy her ass and those gorgeous legs.
Finally she turned to face him and he could see the dark hair of her pubic forest, pressed flat by her sheer pantyhose. Her pussy was next. So far he hadn't seen more than this. He hadn't seen the slit itself yet, neither the lips nor anything between. He had a magazine with a picture of a woman who resembled his mother, and in the photo the woman had her legs wide open to show all of her hairy cunt. Lenny treasured that photo because he imagined his mother's cunt was like that, full-lipped, hairy all the way down the slit, with a prominent clit and a slightly gaping cunthole. None of the girls he knew had cunts like that.
He continued stroking his cock, but slowly and carefully in order to avoid shooting off. He was afraid to come while he was in the closet with his eye at the peephole. He was afraid he'd make a noise and his mother would hear him. He was terrified she'd find out about his spying on her. She could be such a bitch sometimes when she was angry. They had a good relationship, but she never took any crap from him. She was too independent. She had lost her husband when Lenny was young and all these years she'd managed things herself. She and Lenny fought sometimes, but no matter what happened, Lenny always adored her.
And he dreamed about her. Night dreams and daydreams. He dreamed about touching her and fucking her. He didn't want to think about fucking her now because it would make him come.
He watched her as she sat on the end of the bed to peel off her pantyhose. He was looking at her from the side, and he couldn't see between her legs. She always sat there. If only she'd sit on this side of the bed, she'd be facing him and he might see something. God, he loved her legs. She had supple thighs and well developed calf muscles.
She played lots of tennis and he was much better than she was. What he wanted at the moment was to get down there between her legs and suck her pussy-gash. He did it to his girlfriends sometimes and it always tuned him on. He was certain it would blow his mind if he ever did it to a woman like his mother. Sometimes he would spend an hour staring at that photo of the woman who looked like his mother and imagine himself sucking her hairy cunt.
Now his mother was naked, and she walked into the bathroom with a slight wiggle of her lovely ass. After a while, Lenny heard her turn on the shower.
She had a date later with Paul Simpson, her current boyfriend. Paul was a bank manager, about forty, and he and Lenny's mother had been dating about a year. Lenny hated Paul. First, because he and Paul didn't get along that well, and second, because he knew that Paul was fucking his mother and he couldn't stand the idea of Paul's dick making her scream.
He knew they were fucking because sometimes they did it in her bedroom and he could hear them. He also knew they were fucking because his mother had more or less admitted it once when she and Lenny were talking about her love life and how difficult it was to be a woman without a man. She didn't need a man for support.
Martin's insurance left her well off. She told Lenny, what she needed was companionship. And then she came right out and said she was also a healthy woman and she also needed men for sex, to meet her needs. She talked about her needs a lot.
"I don't want you to be jealous," she said. "It's been just the two of us all these years and I don't want you to be jealous if I have dates with men. You're old enough now to understand about men and women."
Yes, he was old enough. He stayed in the closet, waiting for her to come out of the shower, and then when she came out wrapped in a large towel, he pressed his eye to the peephole again and watched her get dressed for the date she had with Paul Simpson.
She put on black tonight, a black lace bra and black panties and then sheer black pantyhose and high-heeled black sandals. Then she spent twenty minutes seated in front of her vanity mirror doing her makeup.
Lenny thought about fucking her and then he thought about Paul Simpson fucking her. They did it in her bedroom sometimes when they came home late and she thought Lenny was asleep. Lenny had spent many a night going crazy with his ear pressed against the wall listening to them and trying to imagine what was going on. Since he'd made the peephole, they hadn't done it in her bedroom. Every time she went out with Paul Simpson, Lenny prayed they would come back to the house and fuck in her room. Tonight would be the same and he knew he'd be praying for the next three or four hours.
Finally she had her makeup completed and she was ready to finish dressing. Lenny loved watching her walk around in her underwear. She had such a gorgeous ass. He couldn't bear thinking of Paul Simpson's hands on her ass. Or any other man's hands. He couldn't stand it. He tried not to think about it, but the image of some guy's hands on her ass drove him crazy.
His cock was like an iron bar now. He had to be careful touching it. He curled his fingers around the base and rhythmically squeezed his cock-shaft. He had a big cock and he was proud of it. He could get his cock out to eight inches when it was really hard, and even when it was soft he had almost five inches of swinging dick for a girl to play with. One girl had told him his cock was longer when it was soft than some of the cocks she'd seen when they were hard.
His mother was finished dressing now. Ten minutes later she called out to Lenny and told him that she was leaving. "I won't be home before midnight. So please don't worry about me!"
He said goodbye to her through his bedroom door. His cock was still hard and there was no way he could come out. He waited until he heard the front door slam shut, and then he quickly pulled his jeans off and he lay down on his bed with a groan.
Now he was naked from the waist down and he could handle his cock and balls without fear of shooting his load and making noise. He wished he had a girl with him to suck him off. They all did it. Some of them pretended not to like it that much, but they all did it. Some of them would take his cum in their mouths and swallow it and some of them wouldn't. He liked to watch them suck and he liked it best when they swallowed his load at the end.
He was a funny guy and girls liked him because he made them laugh. He was popular with the girls and these days he never had any trouble getting at least a blowjob when he dated a girl. They would suck his big cock while he finger-fucked their pussies. Sometimes a girl was aggressive enough to get him to go down on her before she sucked his cock, but usually they were passive and they let him call the shots as long as he didn't force them to do anything they didn't want to do.
Oh the hell with them, he thought. He couldn't understand teenaged girls one way or the other. They giggled about cocks but they didn't really care about fucking that much. What really turned him on was an older woman, some of the lecturers in school and women like his mother. Especially women like his mother.
He stroked his cock with his hand as he thought about her. The way her nipples stuck out. The way her ass looked when she walked around in her bedroom.
The dark bush of cunt hair between her thighs. Sometimes she walked around outside her bedroom in her underwear. He always tried to be cool about it. She would see him in his jockey shorts and he would see her in her bra and panties. It wasn't that much of a big deal because he saw more of her in a bikini when the weather was warm. Amber didn't like wearing a bikini, she preferred a one-piece suit. That way she didn't have to shave.
It turned him on when she looked at him in his jockey shorts. He would never stay undressed too long because he was afraid he'd get a hard-on and be embarrassed. But she did look at him, at the bulge in his crotch, and one time he thought he caught a slight smile of approval.
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