Voyeurism

She didn’t know I was home yet. I had walked in quietly, kicked off my shoes, and was halfway to my room when I noticed her door was cracked open. Then I saw her. My roommate—barely dressed in a black thong and loose tank—standing in front of her full-length mirror, lost in the music playing through her headphones. She was swaying her hips slowly, one hand tracing down her stomach, the other slipping between her thighs. I should’ve looked away… but I couldn’t. I was frozen, mesmerized, watching every sensual move like it was meant just for me. She arched her back, bent slightly, and then… her eyes flicked up to the mirror. We locked eyes. My heart stopped. But instead of panicking, she gave the tiniest smirk. Slowly, she turned toward me—still swaying—pulled her headphones down, and whispered, “Enjoying the show?” I stammered something, but she walked right up to me, grabbed my hand, and guided it to her waist. “You’ve already seen this much,” she whispered, lips brushing my ear, “so come in and make me finish what I started.”@#dirty talk @#seduction @#voyeur

Female POV.Title: "I watched my neighbor jerk off each morning" I, F26 years old. I had only just settled into this new condo about three months ago. All was well at first, until I began noticing something from the building across the way. And so it all started one morning when I was drinking my coffee. The curtains of the place across from me were half open, and there I see a man fully bare-chested, just relaxing by the window. I didn't pay much attention at first, but then I noticed his hand going down low. I figured he was just readjusting himself… but then he just went on about it. He was jerking off. Like, stroking himself completely. In front of his big-ass window. I was stuck. I don't think he saw me, but I had the best possible view of his hand around his dick, pumping slowly. I should have looked away but I didn't. The following day, same place, same thing But he was just sitting on the edge of his bed, opening his legs, taking it slow this time. I actually hide behind the curtain sipping on my coffee, biting my lip and getting my panties wet because of how fucking hot it is. It was insane. I didn't mean to look. But here I am. This is happening everyday, no joke. He keeps on jerking off every morning near his window like he wants to be seen by others. I've not said a word. I didn't even tried to get him to realize I'm paying attention to him. But my body responds every damn time. I wake up a little wet now and sometimes I find myself thinking about if I should touch myself while he is jerking off. I just keep telling myself that I shouldn't look anymore because he might see me and think that I like spying ( obviously yes Lol) But I think tomorrow, I might leave my window a little more open. The next day, I tried touching myself infront of my window while he also jerks off. I almost got caught

Female POV. I take the train almost every day. Same route. Same time. Same packed train car. It's part of the routine by now. You push in, squeeze between people, grab a rail if you’re lucky, and try not to think about how close everyone is. That day, I wore a skirt. It wasn’t super short or anything like that, just light and soft, something easy to wear after a long day at work. I didn’t think about how thin it was. I definitely didn’t think about the fact that I had only thrown on panties underneath. I got on at my usual stop, and the moment I stepped into the car, I knew it was more crowded than usual. There was barely room to shift. I moved toward the middle and ended up standing in front of one of the poles, boxed in by strangers on every side. A man stepped behind me. I didn’t turn to look at him, but I could feel him close. The warmth of his chest. His breath near the back of my neck. At first, I told myself it was nothing. Just part of the commute. But then the train jolted forward, and I felt him press into me. Firm. And then I felt it again. That wasn’t a bag. It wasn’t a belt. He was hard. My stomach flipped. I froze for a second. I could have stepped forward. I could have shifted. But I didn’t. I stayed right where I was. The train rocked again, and I let my hips move with it. He didn’t back away. I leaned a little into the pole, and in doing so, my skirt moved just enough that I could feel more. The pressure against me grew steady. He wasn’t moving fast or rough. Just slow and careful, barely grinding into me. Small movements. Like he didn’t want anyone to notice. And that was what made it hotter. I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks. My body started reacting before my mind even caught up. My thighs clenched. I shifted again, pretending I needed better balance, but really I just wanted more of him. I could feel my panties sticking to me. I was wet. Embarrassingly wet. There was another man in front of me. Older. He kept glancing down. I caught him looking at my chest more than once. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t fix my blouse. I didn’t stop. I stayed there. Between them. Letting the man behind me keep rubbing against me. Letting the other one watch. And then it happened. I came. Quietly. With my lips parted, my eyes low, and my body gently shaking. I didn’t move, didn’t moan. I just let the heat roll through me while the train rattled along the tracks. When we reached the next station, the man behind me stepped off without a word. I stood there like nothing had happened. But everything had. And the next time I got on that train, I left my panties at home.

It was supposed to be just a normal Saturday. My boyfriend left early to play basketball with his friends, and I had the whole place to myself. Or at least I thought I did. I was walking around in just a big shirt, no bra, no panties, sipping coffee while scrolling through my phone. I liked the quiet mornings. I felt free, relaxed, a little playful even. The shirt I wore barely covered my ass, and I didn’t care—no one was supposed to see me like this. I went to the kitchen, bent down to grab something from the lower cabinet, and that’s when I heard it. A small cough. Not mine. I froze. Slowly, I turned my head, and there he was, my boyfriend’s friend—sitting awkwardly at the edge of the couch, holding a glass of water, eyes wide. Fuck. I had completely forgotten he stayed over after their game last night. He must’ve seen everything. I stood up quickly, heart pounding, pulling the shirt down as best as I could. He looked away fast and stuttered something like, “Sorry—I thought you knew I was here.” I laughed it off nervously and told him it was fine. But it wasn’t. My skin was hot. My heart was racing, and I could feel this weird buzz between my legs. I didn’t want to be turned on, but something about being seen like that… it did something to me. I told him I’d just go back to my room and didn’t make eye contact. But when I got inside and shut the door, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About his eyes. About the way I was bent over, exposed. I lay down on the bed, legs pressed together, but the heat wouldn’t go away. I slipped my hand between my thighs and started rubbing softly through the shirt. It felt good. Too good. Then I heard it again. Movement. A soft creak outside my door. My room wasn’t fully closed, just slightly open. Had he followed me? Was he standing there? I froze, my hand still between my legs. Part of me said to stop. But another part didn’t care. I let out a soft moan. quiet, but not that quiet. Just enough for someone to hear if they're standing next to the door. I swear I heard a breath catch from behind the door. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move. I just rubbed my clit a little slower, my body buzzing with guilt and excitement. My shirt slid up, my thighs spread, and I kept going, wondering if he could see anything through the crack. If he was touching himself too. If he’d come in. But the door never moved. I finished quietly, biting my lip, heart still racing. Later, when I came out fully dressed, he didn’t say a word. But the way he looked at me, he knew. And I knew he knew. He was about to say something, but I immediately said "Did you like it? @slow burn erotica

Female POV. I do part-time house cleaning, a combination of regulars, nothing unusual. One of them is this guy who is single and has a place in a residential neighborhood. Mid-30s maybe? Mannered, reserved, barely ever says a word. He's usually not around when I clean. But this time, he actually was. He told me that he was working at home and that I could just do my thing and he would leave me alone. No problem. I simply put on my go-to, everyday clothes — black leggings and a fitted t-shirt. I wasn't trying to be cute or anything, just something that I could easily move around without issue. No bra. He sets up at the dining room table with his laptop, and I got to work. I started in the living room. At first, he wasn't really paying attention or maybe I just wasn't noticing, but eventually, I caught him sneaking glances. Not like he was staring, exactly, just little little glances when I'd pass by or pick something up. Every time I crouched down, I could totally feel his eyes. And there I was, on hands and knees washing under the coffee table. He moved on the couch behind me, still with his open laptop, pretending that he was working, but the time I looked back over my shoulder, I saw him. He was sort of crouched forward, elbows on knees, just staring at my ass. Then I noticed something. he moved, switched legs, and yeah… he got a boner. You could clearly see it in his pants. He stiffened for a moment like he knew I noticed, but we didn't talk about it. I finished what I was doing, didn't make it weird. Just went through the rest of the house as usual. So, I was walking out, and he even got to the door, which is totally not like him and he tells me, "Thanks again… seriously." He held eye contact a second longer than usual. His voice was a bit deeper. I just smiled, picked up my things, and said I'd see him next week. But yeah, I couldn't stop thinking about that look and what he was hiding the whole way home. He usually scheduled his house cleaning weekly, but just after 2 days he called me and asked if I can clean his house tomorrow, which I think was weird because I just cleaned his house 2 days ago. But he said he'll pay more this time because it's a bit rush and not my usual schedule. I accepted his offer then went on his house the next day. When I got there, he greeted me goodmorning and is all cheered up like dog with a bone. What happened while I was cleaning his house is crazy.

I’ve done hundreds of exams in my career, but this one felt different. She walked in with her husband, and the way she smiled at me already set a tone I couldn’t shake. He sat close to her, holding her hand, while I prepared my notes. Everything was normal on the outside, but inside I could already feel the pull. Her skirt slid up a little as she sat on the exam table. I told myself not to stare, but her smooth thighs caught my eyes before I forced them back to my clipboard. Her husband didn’t notice, he was too busy asking me questions about her health. I started the exam, keeping my voice steady. When I pressed the stethoscope against her chest, she sucked in a slow, deep breath, her lips parting like she wanted to be touched. Her eyes flicked up at me, holding mine for just a second too long. My hand stalled before I forced myself to move on. Her husband stayed close, his hand around hers, completely clueless to the way her body shifted under my touch. When I asked her to lie back so I could check her stomach, she leaned slowly, almost like she wanted me to watch. The fabric of her skirt pulled tight across her hips, and when my fingers pressed gently into her skin, she let out a soft sound. Not just a sigh. It was damn near a moan. I felt my dick twitch, hardening in my coat pocket, and I moved to hide it. She knew what she was doing. The way her thighs parted just a little, the way her voice dropped when she answered me, it was like she wanted me to see her wet. Her husband gave her hand a squeeze, smiling at her like the perfect partner. He didn’t notice her biting her lip, didn’t see her eyes sneaking back to me while I fought to keep my breathing calm. I adjusted my coat to cover the bulge straining in my pants. Staying professional felt almost impossible with her pussy just inches away from my hand. It's like my hand wanted to move downward more. When I checked her reflexes, my fingers brushed her leg again. Her thighs tightened, then relaxed, and I caught the faintest smirk on her lips. That was it, she was teasing me, bold as hell, right in front of him. The exam ended, and I told them she was fine. Her husband thanked me warmly, still blind to the game she had played. But she lingered, sliding off the table slowly, her skirt riding higher, her hand brushing down her thigh like she wanted me to imagine sliding my own there. One last look, and I knew she was daring me to think about her dripping pussy all night. I walked out of the room with my chest tight and my dick hard, pretending nothing had happened. She had gotten to me, and we both knew it. After the exam, I checked her file to see her name once again and see if she has any Facebook account. I saw her account, her profile picture is her wearing a bikini while seating and legs opened. I can't resist the urge to jerk off, so I immediately locked my door and continued to jerk off to her picture.