Obsessed

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I discovered that I liked to watch.
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By way of explanation and in the spirit of full disclosure, this is basically a three page story (the 4th page is only a paragraph). The first two pages are exhibitionist and voyeur, while the last page is group sex with 1 woman and 2 men engaging in various acts.

I have made it obvious where the group sex will start, so if that offends people who would rather not read that, the reader can easily stop there or continue depending on your preference.

***

In 1967, the entertainment choices were much more limited than they are today, and when you lived in rural areas, it was even worse. We had three TV channels, and the reception out where we lived was lousy.

Back then, my best friend Mike Davis let me in on one of his favorite ways to pass time in the evenings. After swearing me to secrecy, he told me to dress in dark clothing and had me meet him in the woods that separated our houses on Albany Shaker Road.

The road that I grew up on was nothing like it is today. Forty years have changed much of the rural feeling that the area had at that time. The housing developments that dot the landscape today weren't more than a twinkle in the sharpest developers eye in the 60's, and farms dominated the area back then.

After we shared a nasty unfiltered Pall Mall cigarette that I had lifted from my old man's pack, we made our way over to his back yard and climbed a tree. It's not very comfortable to sit in a tree, but Mike had found a thick and sturdy limb that had given him an excellent vantage point for his favorite hobby.

We sat there quietly for almost an hour, waiting patiently for what Mike had promised me would be a great event, even better than Hogan's Heroes. Mike was frequently full of shit, but when that light went on in his sister's bedroom, I saw that for once in his life he was right.

Mike's older sister was walking around the bedroom, and while she had been wearing a bathrobe when the light first came on, she shrugged that off quickly enough. There, walking around the room with her hair covered in a towel turban, Melanie Davis was naked.

This was the first woman I had even seen naked, not counting that glimpse of Mom that one time, and trust me when I say that didn't count. Melanie was magnificent looking to me, even though in retrospect, my appraisal was based more on the fact that I had little to compare her to.

Melanie Davis was skinny, her breasts were small, and she had acne. In a beauty pageant of her classmates that had just graduated high school, Melanie wouldn't get a vote. She looked nothing like the pictures of girls I had seen in the issues of Playboy that my old man kept poorly hidden in the attic, but those girls weren't real. Melanie was the real deal. A flesh and blood girl who, her brother claimed, promenaded around her bedroom naked almost every evening from around 9:15 to almost 10.

She sat at her vanity and brushed her hair, or then did these exercises that Mike said were supposed to increase her bust size, and we sat there and gawked like the idiots we were. We had to be quiet, because her window was open, and we could clearly hear the sounds of music Melanie was playing.

Melanie even broke into a dance when The Rolling Stones 'Satisfaction' started playing, and even though she couldn't dance a lick, the sight of her naked body gyrating awkwardly was as erotic as it got for me.

Around 10, the light went out in Melanie's bedroom, which signaled the end of the evening's performance. By then, we were so comfortable up there that we were both standing casually on the tree limb as if we weren't about ten feet off the ground, and it was with great sadness that we climbed down quietly.

"Tomorrow night?" Mike whispered to me after we were safely clear of the house, and the answer to that was obvious.

After we parted and I got into the woods, I only made it a little way down the path that I knew so well that I could navigate it in the moonlight effortlessly. I ducked behind a tree and dropped my jeans, grabbing the erection that had been pinned in my underwear for so long that the drippings from my dick had fused the cotton to the tip of it, and proceeded to spray the foliage with my cum within about 10 seconds.

I was pretty ashamed of myself, but not so much that by the end of my two minute walk through the woods, I hadn't decided to rub another load out of myself, figuring that I would only end up doing it at home in a few minutes anyway.

It took me longer to cum the second time, but the night was warm and the memory still vivid in my mind as I pulled on my rigid member, recalling the sight of those conical titties with the puffy nipples bouncing around, and the wide triangle of hair Melanie had between her legs.

My orgasm wasn't as intense has the first time, but ultimately just as satisfying, and after I covered the weeds with several ropes of my semen, I headed home. As it turned out, I ended up needing to do it again later when sleep would not come, but that was all right because I was even more dumb and full of cum than most guys my age.

******

Needless to say, I was in that tree every night from then on, as long as the weather remained warm enough. Mike was usually with me, but even if he wasn't, that didn't stop me. After a week or so, Mike confessed to me that sometimes he - well, he was kinda embarrassed to admit it, but there were times when he actually - pleasured himself while he watched his older sister prancing around.

I expressed surprise at this, but when he told me that if I wanted to do it too, it was okay with him. It must have looked pathetic to see the two of us furiously pumping away while standing in the tree like a couple of monkeys, but the resulting orgasm was so intense that it didn't matter.

One night, when we had managed to score a couple of quarts of beer before climbing the tree, Mike suggested that if we masturbated each other, it might be even better. He claimed that when his former girlfriend Jackie Harrison had done it to him, it felt better than doing it himself, so I reluctantly agreed.

In my first homosexual experience, we stood on the limb and jerked each other off while watching his sister Melanie doing exercises. I didn't agree that it was a better experience, but that was because Mike was kind enough to whisper to me when his hand first found me.

"Gee Tim, your dick isn't very big," Mike informed me as his fist wrapped around my boner.

I reminded him that he was a year ahead of me in school, which in my book explained the noticeable variance in our development, a difference that I had immediately noticed when my hand grabbed what in the darkness felt like a Louisville Slugger.

In truth, looking back it was more a case of Mike being incredibly well-hung than of me being all that small, but whatever the case, that was the first and last time we did that.

One Saturday night toward the end of summer, we sat in the tree waiting for Melanie to entertain us. Mike had told me that she had a date, but we hung around on the limb anyway, until the bugs drove us crazy and we had to climb down.

As we walked along the side of the house, we heard voices and stopped. We were outside of his parents bedroom, and although the room was pretty dark, Luann and Matt Davis were not sleeping. Far from it.

The window was open a little, and while the curtains were a little bit open we were afraid to peek inside the ground floor room. Even in my advanced state of ignorance about most things sexual, I knew what they were doing.

The bed was creaking loudly, and the sounds that his parents were making sent chills down my spine. They were fucking. I wanted to climb up on the rocks that lined the little garden beneath the window and watch, but the thought of Mike's father catching me was frightening.

Mike's old man was a real hard-ass with a temper to match, and since he was not only bigger than I was, but way more muscular, my fate would have been certain, so instead of watching we listened.

"This is gross," Mike whispered in my ear, and while I didn't agree I could see his point.

If the situation had been reversed, I would have been disgusted at listening to my parents too, but Mike's parents were different. Mike's mother was really cute, looking like a much more shapely version of his sister, and his father was in good shape, resembling the Incredible Hulk physically. On the other hand, my parents were great, but I didn't ever fantasize about them doing it, and I don't think anybody else did either.

The sounds. I couldn't tear myself away from the window, even though Mike moved away. The bed sounded like it was being destroyed, and Mike's father was grunting loudly each time the slapping of skin resonated from within that room.

I felt afraid for Mike's mother, who made a whimpering noise after every one of the guttural noises of he husband. Finally she let out a muffled squeal as the rhythmic creaking of the bed reached a peak, and then Mike's father let out a groan that I was very familiar with, having made that sound myself quite often.

Drenched with sweat, I moved away from the window and rejoined Mike, hoping that the dim moonlight would not reveal what I assumed to be a big wet spot in the front of my jeans, the result of squeezing my stuff a little bit too hard in the heat of the moment.

"Wanna wait for my sister to get home?" Mike asked, but I declined, saying that I was getting too bit up by mosquitoes to stay outside.

Little did I know it, but I had stumbled onto something even more exciting than Mike's sister.

********

A couple of years later, and I was still going down to Mike's back yard, but a lot had changed. Mike had a falling out with his father, and what resulted was that Mike joined the Navy right after we graduated from high school. His older sister Melanie had gotten married and had moved away at the same time, so that eliminated my original reason for sneaking around the Davis house.

Now I still crept around at night, but only on Saturday nights. I had discovered that the rest of the week, Mike's parents were as boring as my own were. At least that was what many a weekday evening had taught me, as the light went off and nothing happened.

Saturday nights were different. That was the night that Luann and Matt Davis had sex, and that was the night when I would find myself camped outside of their bedroom window rain or shine. Clad in my clandestine outfit of black sweats, and sometimes armed with a half-pint of Southern Comfort, I would perch myself on the rocks around their bedroom window.

The curtains were always open, and since there were no neighbors anywhere in sight, I supposed that there would be no reason to close them. In warm weather, the window would be open as well, and while that made it imperative that I keep still, the sounds of their lovemaking were so erotic that it was almost like being in the room with them. Now, without their children in the house, they rightly saw no reason to be quiet and muffle their lovemaking either.

After just listening to Mike's parents that first time, I had been hungry to watch as well as listen. Seeing naked people live in the flesh was new to me, and the fact that I knew them made it even better for me.

Seeing Mike's father that first time as he strode into the bedroom naked was quite a shock, and if the sight of his profusely hairy body wasn't intimidating enough, one glance at the cock that dangled between Mr. Davis's legs made it clear where my friend Mike had gotten his exceptional development from.

Matt's dusky brown tube was huge, maybe six inches long, and while I had about six inches myself, mine got that long when fully erect, whereas Matt's cock was that big while still very limp, and was going to be much bigger when aroused. The fact that he was uncircumcised even added to the visual impact, as the outline of the head of his manhood was clear under his long foreskin.

Matt Davis flopped onto the bed and waited patiently for his wife to arrive. Luann Davis was similar facially to her daughter Melanie, whose naked body was forever etched in my memory. Mrs. Davis was a small and rather ordinary looking woman who seemed to be a bit more womanly in build than Melanie, although she dressed so blandly that it was hard to tell.

When Luann Davis finally appeared, she bore no resemblance to the middle aged woman I had known all of my life. Her dark brown hair was now down and flowing over her shoulders, and while the white nightie she was wearing wasn't completely transparent, I could see plenty, and to my surprise there was a lot to see.

Mrs. Davis had tits. Not two little lemons that I had been used to seeing on her daughter either. The outline of Luann's breasts through that nightie made it clear that she had a big pair on her, and I tried to figure out how she had camouflaged them so well over the years.

Their size was accentuated by the fact that they were hanging on a rather petite woman, and as I fumbled with my zipper so I could get my dick out, it got even better. Luann was teasing Matt, bringing her hands up and cupping her tits through the nightie, her nipples poking at the satiny fabric.

This lifted her nightie a bit, just enough for me to see that Luann's pussy was even hairier than her daughter's was, and that was saying something. The hair even grew a little bit onto the insides of her thighs, and seeing that had me sending a volley of seed into Luann's garden below me.

As my vision cleared, I could see Mike's father still on his back, but he had his cock in his hand and was wiggling it at his wife. Luann smiled and bit her lower lip, and still being flirtatious, began to pull her nightie up over her head.

I started feeling light-headed as that nightie began rising, and I had to steady myself against the house as I struggled to get the best view possible while remaining safely out of sight. That wild jungle of hair had a thin trail that led up to Luann's belly button, and that was where those breasts captured my attention.

How could they not? They thoroughly dominated Mrs. Davis's petite frame; huge jugs that were bigger than footballs, with over-sized aureoles that were as big as drink coasters and plump nipples that begged to be sucked on.

The only other breasts that I had ever seen in person; Melanie's, and the apple-sized boobs of Kathy Morin's that I had been honored to play with in my primitive manner a few months earlier, paled in comparison to the incredible Mrs. Davis.

How old was Luann Davis, I wondered? She had to be in her 40's at least, but she looked sensational to me. As Mrs. Davis lifted the nightie up over her head, I was shocked to see that she had hair under her arms, and not like what girls have when they don't shave for a few days. Actual hair, like guys had.

My own mother didn't shave her pits very often either, but she didn't look anything like Luann Davis, and the way Mrs. Davis posed by the bedside for her husband made it clear that she wasn't ashamed of being so hairy. To my surprise, I found myself turned on by the unusual sight.

A glance over to Mike's father showed that he wasn't offended either. Far from it. The cock that he had been flopping around a minute earlier was now hard, and it was even more imposing erect.

Mr. Davis was working his fist up and down the thick shaft, the foreskin moving along with his hand, and as the head of his cock was exposed, I couldn't believe that could fit inside of a woman. It resembled a plum in both size and hue, and it seemed that putting such a monstrosity inside of his little wife would rip her apart.

Mrs. Davis wasn't afraid though. She was licking her lips as she stared at her husband stroking his huge member, and then she climbed onto the bed and walked on her knees over him. Luann's jugs swayed lazily as she moved up the length of her husband's body, grazing Matt's legs as she did.

Now Luann's hand replaced her husband on the upstanding cock, and while her little hand seemed completely over-matched because her fingers didn't come close to reaching around the immense girth of his organ, that didn't stop her from pumping her fist up and down the shaft.

"You know what I want," Matt Davis growled in a voice that didn't have the bite it had when he would address his son back in the day.

"Is it this?" Luann asked coyly, bowing her head and licking the head of her husband's cock, and then she did the impossible.

My disbelieving eyes watched in awe as Mrs. Davis opened her mouth and put the fat head right into her mouth, her eyes never leaving her husband's face, and then her mouth slid down the shaft, taking almost half of his manhood in her mouth before letting her lips slide back up to the tip.

Mike's mother was amazing. She was sucking on Mike's father's cock like it was a lollipop, and her lips were going farther down the shaft of his cock with each bob of her head. How could she do it, and how could he take it without cumming?

Soon Mrs. Davis took her mouth off of her husband's manhood, and with a playful and devilish grin she climbed up on the bed and straddled him for a second, running her hand through the wild jungle of hair between her legs before squatting down.

"OHHH!!!" Luann Davis screamed, and after she had impaled herself on that huge organ and began humping Matt, I cried out myself.

It was all too much; those gigantic tits rolling around while she rode her husband did me in, and I sent another load of cum into the flower bed.

I stayed outside looking in until they turned out the light over a couple of hours later, and for a couple of old folks they sure had a lot of energy. Matt Davis came twice, and I lost track of the number of orgasms Luann Davis had.

I came four times all together, and I don't think my hand left my dick for a minute during all that time. By the end I was yanking away on a totally limp noodle while inside the house a guy more than twice my age was pounding into his wife like a young colt.

When at last I got home, I went in to take as shower, and before I did I looked at myself in the mirror. Pitiful. My body was nothing like Matt Davis's. I was skinny and nerdy looking, nothing like the manly guy that had screwed his wife into orgasm after orgasm.

Not only was my physique lacking, I also had to contend which the pitiful excuse for a dick. Wiggling the limp boodle gingerly, because it was rubbed raw from being pulled on for a couple of hours, I saw how badly it compared with the other two erections I had seen, those of Matt Davis and his son. THEY were men. I was a nothing, and would probably spend my life looking at other guys pleasuring women.

**********

My shame did not last long, and I returned to that window almost every night afterward, until I figured out their routine. Every Saturday, without fail, I would be out there. The testament to my dedication was the night when it was raining - pouring is more like it, yet I stood there faithfully while they went at it.

That night was worth it, even if they closed the window due to the rain. because they did it doggy-style a lot. That was my favorite position of theirs, even better than the spectacular "Luann on top" position, because of the way Mrs. Davis would be on her hands and knees, with those big jugs hanging down almost to the bedding while she got nailed from behind. That night Mrs. Davis was facing the window perfectly, and that allowed me a fantastic view.

The next Saturday night was dry, but the air was crisp, and that was a sharp reminder that fall was on the way. Soon the window would be closed because of the cold - maybe even tonight - and the important part audio of the show would be lost. Oh, I still planned to show up until the snow got too high or the cold became too intense. What else did I have to do?

At least that was my plan. Little did I know that the show, as I knew it, was over.