I’ve always been a lurker, maybe even a little bit of a stalker if the man was extremely hot or struck that certain chord. And I knew I was definitely a voyeur. But was I an exhibitionist? Maybe I was. I’m not sure what first triggered the thoughts, then leading to the actions. All I know is that I had become so unbelievably horny that I was driven to the madness.
I’ve always been seen as the “good girl” type, growing up with all the right steps along the way, studying hard, blossoming into the kind of woman that achieves goals, always says “please” and “thank you” at each occasion, wears one pieces versus bikinis, rarely swears or raises her voice. And, in many ways, I am that woman. But also, I’m not. Because I do raise my voice and shout expletives, under the right circumstances. And I’m not always always so good. In fact, I have some very dirty secrets. Ones that would make many eyebrows raise. Like, I get off on watching men.
It began when I was younger, maybe nineteen, while in college. I was just starting to get my footing with them. They were always somewhat intimidating. Until my body started to take shape nicely along with my regular yoga practice and I caught their gazes even more. This caused my gazes to last longer and longer. Intimidation turned into obsession. I think the addiction grew from there. There are other reasons, I’m sure, as with anyone looking deep into the mind for them, but not the story I want to tell.
It wasn’t instantaneous. I didn’t go from lurking and openly staring at the gym after yoga class to climbing the neighbor’s tree. I’ve never once climbed a tree, as a matter of fact. Though, if I’m confessing, I have watched men through half-closed bathroom doors on drunken nights when friends were over for drinks, or through bedrooms late at night when roommates would get horny, or a bit friendlier with their dates in the living room.
I even hid in one of my roommate’s closets once, with a space between the two bi-folding doors that allowed the perfect view of his bed. I knew his routine well enough. I snuck in when he was in the shower, watched him stroke his long erection with his fleshlight afterwards, then snuck out after he’d fallen asleep. He was hot, and he had a great cock. We fucked the next night, in fact. But, on my time in the closet, he was none the wiser.
I’ve found I prefer to watch men alone the most. I also love my time with men directly, of course. There’s so much that I crave with sex as well. But, I just love seeing cock. All shapes and sizes and in various states of hardness. I really love seeing their uninhibited intimate moments in self pleasure. Even when in the bathroom, men have a way of touching themselves that’s so raw sometimes.
Pictures and videos are one thing, but watching a man touch himself in person is so much better, so much more intimate. The scent in the air, their groaning and rumbling voices in all pitches and peaks. I’ve been with men who know I’m watching them pleasure themselves, but it’s much different than when they don’t. That’s when it’s real. Sometimes showing their true desires. It’s wrong, I know. To watch. To know those things.
Yes, I’m secretly so fucking dirty, and I love it. Doesn’t everyone in this day and age have a sex addiction of some kind? But, I admit I do feel mine has been getting worse, without satiating it. Maybe the lockdown has had something to do with it being so pronounced. Maybe the lack of socializing, and the months and months without any sex is the reason. Maybe I just needed a good fuck. Then again, that never stopped me before. Even with my last boyfriend, when he satisfied me nearly every night for over four years, I still found myself watching, feeding the monster.
Either way, I’d been craving this, but also something different. I found myself wanting to be on the other side of being watched. I was considering a level of exhibitionism, and since video calls had been taking up most of my life, and all our lives, I thought I could find a new way to feed the addiction. There was definitely risk. It was certainly wrong. These calls were often with colleagues, other companies, sometimes newer interested parties, but all people in important roles. It made me shiver just to think about them watching me, and I knew what that shiver meant.
These are the stories of how it all happened…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/mhhknh/dirty_zoom_call_diaries_f_prologue_part_1