My "voyeur" story concerns a guy who lives across the street from my apartment building in Queens. The guy is a real fucking hunk, somewhere between 30 and 35 years old, with a nice tight body, dark, longish curly hair, a hairy chest, and a basket that just won't quit! I don't know his name or all that much about him, but the first time he came to my attention was back during the summer. There's a small postage-stamp park that my windows look out on to, and one morning I got up and saw him laying there on a chaise lounge, evidently trying to soak up some sun.
He was wearing a bathing suit (a regular one, not a pair of Speedos unfortunately), but that was all. I couldn't help but stare, and I must have stood in my window for more than an hour that morning. Every time he rubbed a hand over his hairy chest, my dick got harder and harder, and when he stuck his hand into his bathing suit - to rearrange himself, I suppose - I shot right in my pants. After that, I kind of broke out of the spell, and was able to do what I was supposed to be doing that morning.
Needless to say, the next Saturday morning I waited by the window, and sure enough, I wasn't disappointed. I cooked up the wildest fantasies about him while I was watching him, and this time, I didn't even need him to stick his hand into his bathing suit before I popped off - I guess the fact that I was frantically pounding my meat had something to do with that!
Every weekend, like clockwork, I stood there by the window, and every weekend, like clockwork, he'd show up, and I'd jerk off watching him. This was one handsome man! One Saturday, though, he didn't show up on time, and I was real disappointed. I sort of put my soft-on back into my pants, and started cleaning up the house.
I worked my way into the spare room (which faced another direction than the living room window, since it was a corner apartment), and for some reason (I guess because I was cleaning the window or something), I looked out the window, and guess who I happened to see on one of the balconies on the building across the street? Right - it wouldn't be much of a story with just me jacking off looking at the guy sunbathing.
He was in the chaise lounge again, only this time - I guess 'cause he thought he was in private and couldn't be observed - he wasn't wearing the bathing suit...the handsome son-of-a-bitch was stark-fucking-naked! Fucking A!
I stripped down too, and hunted around for a few minutes for my pair of cheapo binoculars. I couldn't find them, and decided not to waste time tearing the closets apart looking for them, so back to the window I went.
The way his balcony and my window were arranged, I could see him, but he couldn't see me, and I'm fairly sure, from the angles, that no one else from any of the other apartments could see him either. It was fucking great. He was reading something that looked like a skin mag, but I couldn't tell whether it was gay or straight, but what I could see was the effect it had on him...his cock was growing, and he was stroking it. Every time he touched himself, I had to stop touching myself, or I'd have shot too damned soon.
or I guess he hit a picture or something that he liked, because he went from just casually stroking to full-fledged jerking off. He looked really fucking hot, his legs spread wide, on either side of the chaise; one hand gripping his cock and the other playing with his nipples through the hair on his chest. I could tell when he was getting ready to cum - his back stiffened up, and he kind of arched-up off the chaise, and just when I thought he was shooting, I blew my wad hard all over the wall under the window. I thought my fucking guts were shooting out the end of my dick!
He must have felt good too, because he just layed there for a minute, and then picked up the skin mag and went inside his apartment, I guess to clean himself off. I waited around for a few minutes to see if he'd come back, but he didn't, so I started to clean again, paying special attention to the area on the wall that was now dripping with my cum.
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