Most men are highly visual, myself included. I mean, I could be at a funeral, and if I catch an accidental upskirt view of panties, I’m disabled with sexual thoughts. Even after a decade of being with my wife, I’m still dysfunctionally turned on by the mere site of her naked.
But that’s different. That is being highly visual. What I’m talking about is actual voyeurism. A fetish that is basically watching or seeing someone — largely without their knowledge-nude or engaging in sexual activity. This is my one true fetish. Like most things, it stems from an experience I had in my formative years that I will never forget. This is the true story of that event.
My friend Stanley (Buddy was his nickname) was my best friend in 7th grade. He was a cool, chill dude, but his house was the real attraction for me. I had a strict dad. I never had people over because of it. His house was another story. Pretty much anything went there. His mom and dad were divorced (sorta) or so that’s how I understood it then. His mom didn’t live with his dad, but he and his older brother Steve did. On occasion, she would come to the house and stay the night. The details of that arrangement were never really clear to me, but that’s how it was.
The upstairs at Buddy’s house had a couple of bedrooms, but it also had this unusually large sitting area in the hallway. The futon that resided just outside the bathroom was my bed when I stayed over.
I don’t remember going to bed and I’m not sure what specifically woke me up, but one particular morning changed my life forever. I remember being groggy as I woke. I’m pretty certain in hindsight it was the noise of activity a few feet away that actually woke me. I’m also fairly certain it was intentional. At the time though, that concept was basically inconceivable.
The first thing I saw when opening my eyes was the door to the bathroom was wide open. Someone was in there, doing something. I knew that much. Suddenly I catch a reflection in the mirror, which hung above the sink only a few feet away from me. The reflection was a body. The body of a naked woman with only a towel swirled around her head.
My first reaction was of panic. What if she knows I saw her naked? Surely, she would scream out in violation of her privacy, right? I was as scared as I was curious, but I had to look. It was, after all, the first time I had ever seen a real-life naked woman! At age 13, that is a pretty rare opportunity. I reached for my blanket and pulled it up over my head. I jockeyed the pillow under me, and between the two I created myself a peephole view that I hoped would be my cover.
What happened next was the most glorious 15 minutes of my entire life up to that point. I can still conjure every second of it today, as it’s been forever burned into my brain.
At first, I thought I was just super lucky that I caught a quick glimpse of this woman in the mirror. I fully expected her to reach over and close the door, but apparently the show was just getting started. I didn’t know I was about to witness a full-scale, close-up view of an adult woman lady-scaping herself right in front of me.
First was the face cream. With her towel swirled on top of her head, and nothing else on her nearly perfect naked body, she started her facial routine. Little by little she dipped her fingers into the jar and rubbed the cream into her face. Her naked body was only a few feet away and unobstructed. My face was covered, but my view was perfect. As she faced the mirror, my direct line of sight was her tight, round ass. It was perfect. In the reflection I could see her breasts, which were also perfect. I still question if my view of “perfect” was actually defined that day, and it became the standard on which all else was measured since.
I could have watched that all day and been the happiest 13 year old boy in the universe, but it got better. After the face cream came the razor. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but I assumed she was about to shave her legs. She grabbed the shaving cream, squirted some into her hand and proceeded to bend over and spread it on her right leg, starting at her ankle. Oh my god. This was a view I couldn’t have dreamed of. I mean, she’s 4 feet away and fully bent over right there, right in front of me! I was in heaven.
At this point, I was in a heightened state of sexual energy I had never experienced before. But it wasn’t over yet. Far from it. The first leg, then the second. There was one foot on the toilet, one on the floor… Breasts hanging down, swaying back and forth, I mean shit — I was getting every view you could possibly ask for, and from two angles — thanks to the mirror!
I kept thinking to myself “why isn’t she shutting the door?” My teenage brain just didn’t understand. It seemed like a huge oversight to me, but I wasn’t going to complain. I mean, I didn’t move. I barely breathed. I wasn’t going to do anything in the world to stop this or give her a reason to shut that door.
What happened next was as if I scripted it myself. A full-frontal money shot. That’s right. After shaving both legs from ankle to thigh, propping each leg up, one at a time, there was still one area left. Almost like she knew what she was doing, she saved that for the grand finale.
As she squirted shaving cream into her hand one last time, she turned toward me. She never looked at me, but she was facing me directly at this point. With a slight lift on her tippy toes, she sat on the edge of the sink and brought both feet up with her. She applied the shaving cream everywhere but inside her pink, glistening pussy and began to shave. Using two fingers to hold her labia to each side, she meticulously got every hair, from every inch with that razor. Over, under, side to side… She gave herself a Brazilian without the wax. It was nothing short of a miracle in my book. I was simply paralyzed, and as I said earlier — forever changed.
Eventually she jumped in the shower to rinse off and made her way right past me to the bedroom. I never let on and I never told Buddy, of course.
When I think about it now, I know it was 100% intentional on her part. There is no other reasonable explanation, but aside from that — I understand it better as an adult. She definitely got off doing it, and despite our eyes never connecting to confirm, she knows I was watching.
Since that moment, more than 20 years ago, I have been secretly chasing another experience like that. Not to the extent that I am a Peeping Tom or anything like that. I’m not a creep, but I’m always hoping for another similar experience. I satisfy some of it by the fact that my wife has some exhibitionist tendencies. Nothing lude or blatant, but we have fun with it on vacation. I often ask her to wear a short skirt with no panties when we go to dinner somewhere. She will deliberately give me the joy of “catching a glimpse” and if some lucky guy like me catches it, to him I say “you’re welcome”
