I remember quite clearly the first time I went to a swingers club, despite being nervous and sticking firmly to my then partner in crime it was actually like a delicious sweetie store for the filthy dirty voyeur in me. In darkened corners people indulged in one another, bodies entwined, coming and sometimes even cuming together in a heaving mass of sexual encounters. I stood transfixed, as people licked, kissed, sucked and fucked, my eyes wide with joy at the hedonistic glory of it all and my fingers desperately rubbing away at my aching clit inside my panties. He took me there with the promise that it was ‘just to look’ no pressure to actually do anything, just hang out, enjoy the space, the pool, the social and see how I felt about it. I was really quite naive at the time, I had been fairly ignorant that such places even existed and even more ignorant of what effect it would have on me.
I don’t think we had been there more than half an hour before I was on my knees in front of him sucking his cock and watching, out of the corner of my eye, another girl doing exactly the same thing for her partner right next to us. For me the ultimate voyeur moment; watching her watching me, watching her…
I am a very visual person, as I think my blog reflects. My love of my photography really does stem from my own voyeuristic relationship with myself. It is not that I think I am particularly beautiful or even sexy, I don’t look at my images and admire myself in that way, it is more detached than that. I see the sex in myself, the hunger, the greed, the potential for wanton behaviour, the love of man and woman, desire for, despite the flaws of my body, which I am all too well aware of, seeing myself stripped (and I don’t necessarily mean naked when I use that term)exposed and captured in that moment allows me to see something of myself as he sees me.
My voyeuristic streak stems way beyond the photograph though. Fucking me in front of a mirror, forcing me to watch myself as I am being fucked, will make my dirty slutty mind come crashing down around me and pretty much guarantee a deep muscle shaking orgasm but the real key for me is that if I can not only see myself but also see him too. Kneeling on the end of our bed, and turning my head to the side the mirror there affords me the perfect side view of him fucking me. The rocking motion of his hips, the ripple of muscle in his thigh and buttocks as he takes me like that is pure visual Viagra to me.
Want more? Because there is more. There is me, laying on the bed next to them, watching him fucking her. His hand on her neck holding her down, her thighs spread, his cock buried in her. He mumbles to me about how tight she is, how good she feels on his cock, I can hear her moan beneath him. I am entranced, riveted, utterly fixated on the scene in front of me. I lay there with my glass dildo stuffed inside me and my fingers rubbing at my clit and watch his hard cock slide in out of her and I cum and I cum and I cum.
Afterwards I play it over again and again in my head. A repeat watching and I am always the voyeur.
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