From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: My Fetish Date: 27 May 1996 22:55:11 GMT Seeing Is Relieving I have a fetish, To give it to you point blank, I get off by peeking underneath women's dresses. For instance, I look for those unguarded moments, perhaps when a woman is bending over to get into a car, or when I am behind her on an escalator or a flight of stairs. This fetish of mine began in my childhood. I was nine years old when one day I was lying on a cot in our garage, watching my mother refinish a piece of furniture. She had on a knee length dress, and she was squatting down alongside her work, facing me. I could see all the way up her dress, to her white panties, and the sight greatly aroused me. After that, I took advantage of every opportunity to sneak a peek between Mom's legs when she wasn't looking. The best time to see what Mom had was when she sat on the couch, watching television. She'd sit with her feet on the floor and her legs parted slightly, and I'd lie on the floor in front of the couch. If I turned at lust the right angle, I could easily see her panties. On one occasion, Mom's panties were wedged between her cunt lips, and I could clearly see the outline of her slit and the curly pubic hairs which surrounded it. On that night, I played with myself under the sheets, and although I didn't ejaculate, I did experience great pleasure and complete gratification from the act. As the years went by and I grew to be a man, my sexual life developed in a normal, healthy fashion. However, I never lost my strong desire for sly glimpses of women's privates, preferably when they're wearing sexy underthings. I don't peek in windows, or anything like that, although I admit there have been times when I was tempted; and I don't follow little girls around, either. The accidental sight of a little girl squatting in the street to urinate did give my cock a throb one day, but I'm no pervert and I don't go after such things. I just keep my eyes open, for opportunities everywhere I go. I am a single man of thirty-two and enjoy my fair share of female sexual companionship. I save the memories of pussies and tits that I've seen to carry me through those times when I'm in between women, or in need enough to prompt me to masturbate. Then I remember certain incidents and, with my mind, touch those unsuspecting women while I jerk off. My favorite memory is of a night when I was coming home late from work. I missed the last bus and decided to walk across town, cutting through the park as a shortcut. In the park,I came across a young couple who were humping each other against a tree. The boy had one hand up the girl's skirt, probably finger-fucking her, and his other hand was down her blouse, grabbing a handful of tit. She was squirming and moaning, with her hand stuck into the open fly of his pants Her hand moved rapidly up and down, and he begged her to let him fuck her. I was scared to keep watching, afraid that if they spotted me they'd think I was some kind of weirdo and call the cops. But I couldn't walk away,either. I had an erection and, although I wouldn't take it out, I stroked myself through my pants. The girl started making funny sounds in her throat, and the boy pressed even harder to convince her to fuck him. She pushed at his head, and he slid down her body to his knees in front of her. She lifted her skirt; he pulled down her panties and started eating her. The girl literally jumped for joy, tugging at the boy's hair and yelling,"Eat me, eat me," into the night. While she creamed all over his face, the boy took out his cock and beat off into his hand. I resisted the temptation to allow my Self to come In the park. Instead. I hurried home to do so. I wasn't in the building more than a few seconds before I pulled out my cock and ejaculated right in the foyer of my apartment. With come dripping off my hand, still masturbating, I moved to the couch, where I'd be more comfortable, and pulled myself off twice more. The excitement that was generated by seeing that young couple has never left me, and I can always count on the memory of them to get me off.