Maybe think of something really taboo? Break some moral laws in your brain. Think of something really really really wicked and vile. And then enjoy it.
For a while, I thought I didn’t have it in me. I thought, I’m so okay with anything sexual. Nothing consensual is wrong. And that’s where I missed it. I’m vehemently against non-consensual sex. I’m morally against forcibly molding someone into a sexual object, whether you lay a hand on them or not. Watching someone without their knowledge is morally wrong. And oh, so tempting. Voyeurism at its most sublime.
My new neighbor’s bedroom faces the street, and seemingly, he doesn’t believe in closing his vertical blinds. He’s a big guy, but it’s not as if I find that unattractive. The fact that he undresses each morning while I do my yoga (it’s still dark that early), and every evening when I practice shadow boxing (dark again at 8 p.m.) has been an incredible temptation. Of course, I succumbed easily and early on in our relationship. So now my morning routine involves a complex mix of masturbation and yoga. I console my nagging conscience with the thought that he probably knows I’m watching, and I can’t see him all that well anyway. But I want to. I’ve idly toyed with the idea of wandering over for a closer view, but I know I never will. I don’t want to be caught. I don’t want to show an interest either, even if it would be returned. I want this man to stay in the realm of fantasy. Still, to be closer…
Should I go and buy some binoculars, this still wouldn’t be the first time I’ve peeped. I’ll admit it, when I was younger I just had to sneak and peek to see some of the kinds of sex events I wouldn’t be admitted to. (Gay friends, drunk, gay homophobes on a “poker night”, ex-girlfriends with flings, et cetera.) Of course, when I say “younger”, I mean “younger than twenty-five”. I had no opportunity to be quite that level of a perv when I was a minor, though even at that age, I was already quite imaginative. Strangers don’t usually do it for me. My preoccupation with peeping usually concerns people I know and find sexually attractive. I have a burning urge to see what they do when they’re alone. It’s one thing to have someone masturbate for you, it’s quite another to see exactly what they do and how they do it when they’re getting off in an almost perfunctory way. It excites me to think of a man or woman casually masturbating, whether it’s to porn or some imagined fantasy. The thought of watching someone I know, without being discovered, is something–yes–totally taboo.
But I digress. After a week of unsolicited, free peep shows, I’m ready to admit that I feel very, very dirty watching this stranger. He hasn’t done anything other than dress and undress. Oh, and scratch his bare chest. Not very sexy sounding, surely, but I find my hand slipping into my panties, my fingers drifting over my clit as I watch him. Hoping that this time he’ll do it. Or do something. Though he hasn’t yet, the anticipation keeps me coming back, watching him from a dark corner of my patio. Quietly waiting for the consummation of my desires.