“There is only one secret to success in life;
Always do your best at anything you do!
That’s the only way you can GUARANTEE you will make the most of yourself”
Bad times ahead. I was fired. I was humiliated. I couldn’t face leaving the apartment. I didn’t leave one single time for the next five days, not until every morsel of food I owned had been consumed, or at least gone too moldy to keep eating much more of it. I mean there is only so much green bread anyone can eat! Then I went about twenty one hours without eating a thing. Eventually I was so hungry I had to go out for food. I didn’t dare walk all the way to the supermarket. I went straight to the ..seven eleven.. and bought three loaves of bread and a jar of peanut butter. Then I ate nothing but peanut butter sandwiches for four days. After that I went back to ..seven eleven.. and bought three more loaves of bread and a jar of nuttella hazelnut spread. I then ate nothing but nuttella sandwiches for four days.
In this whole thirteen days I don’t think I slept for more than two hours straight - even though I spent nearly the whole time in bed. Occasionally exhaustion would see me nod off for a little while. But if I actually tried to get to sleep my mind would just race through images of my face covered in blood, or a couple of hundred cling wrap workers laughing there asses off at me.
So to keep my mind off it I watched television. I watched Opera and Maury Povich, I watched corny soap operas, I watched infomercials and I watched kid’s cartoons. I had about fifteen movies on tape, and I watched them all twice. I’d watch anything at all, no matter how uninteresting; just to avoid hearing the voices in my head.
With my window spray painted black I began to lose all track of the time. I couldn’t guess the time within ten hours of the real time. I didn’t know if it was night or day. My only guidance was my growing memorization of the TV guide. I eventually got to the point where I knew that if I didn’t start leaving the house I would actually die soon!
So I started going for walks. I still didn’t feel like I could handle facing any other humans, so I would go walking at night. At first just short ones, but over a few weeks it came to the point where I would walk for hours and hours. I found whole pockets of my neighborhood which I didn’t even know existed. I found the nice streets and the streets actually worse than mine. I would be approached by dead ugly old prostitutes who I couldn’t fathom would ever find a customer, but that was about all the human contact I had to face. Hey at least someone was willing to have sex with me, that was something to be grateful about.
After a while I found myself studying various houses I would come across. I would walk along the nicer streets and try to pick out the houses I would like to live in. I would imagine what types of people lived in those houses. Were they like the leave it to beaver family? Were they like the Simpsons? Or were they like my family? Really, really fucked up! I started to come up with images in my mind of what a perfect family would be like. Then I would imagine myself in a family like that somewhere. Sometimes as a brother and sometimes as the father. It was always different, but it always made me feel good. Just the thought of being part of a family with some love thrown in somewhere! I had missed out on a lot of things in my life, but love was the thing I had suffered from missing out on the most. It was just like me to make connections to what I wanted, not through people, but through objects which were associated with people. Like a house.
I wondered if I would ever live in a house like those, and have a family. I know most really pessimistic people constantly worry about the future, but I was never really like that, I have always been good at just taking each day as it came. Standing in front of those beautiful houses I began to think about the future though, and what I wanted from it, and I knew that included a loving family, one day, maybe, as unlikely as it seemed to me, it also seemed inevitable. I guess in some ways I had more faith in myself than I ever believed I did.
One day I was staring up at a grand Victorian era mansion, surrounded by beautiful gardens, which was only two blocks from my apartment. It was early in the morning; I had been walking all night and was just about to reach home as I found this house, just as the sun started to make its first impressions on the sky.
I was starring at one particular window on the bottom floor, I don’t know why I chose this window, but for some reason I felt some affinity with it. I must have stared at that window for five minutes, it was a large picture window with your standard cross pattern separating the panes of glass and floral curtains running down each side, it looked like it should have been on the cover of ‘Lovely House’ magazine. I had just stopped in front of the house not moving, standing on some stranger’s lawn when suddenly a light switched on. “Damn it, someone must have seen me” I said to myself as I hid behind a bush, ready to run for my life any second. But no one came out.
I began to peer over the bush and back into the window. Suddenly a girl appeared, right up at the window. I could see her clearly. She was spectacularly beautiful. She was tallish with blonde, blonde hair, long and straight bouncing off her shoulders. She was wearing baggy pajamas, but I could still see that underneath she had a most ample bosom, and a very nice figure. I was shocked. This was the best luck I had had since discovering that late night foreign films often had nudity, well nude middle aged French women who didn’t shave their arm pits at least. Only this was real life, and this girl looked like she shaved every bit of unnecessary hair off.
She stood looking out the window for ages, all the time looking upwards over my right shoulder. I looked around to see what she was staring at, and discovered from her window she had a really great view of a very pretty sunrise taking place. The sky was just starting to turn pink, and the waves of clouds glowed grey and orange and purple. Despite having the option of an amazing view of one of the most attractive girls I had ever seen; even I was captivated by this sunrise.
I eventually turned back around, and the window was empty. I put my head in my hands “damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it” I said to myself. She had gone. I had wasted the time I could have spent with her looking at a freakin sunrise.
Then I looked back up and saw the window suddenly fill up with the most amazing site I had seen in my life. Like the first explorer to cross the United States and walking along a desert path lined with shrubs and not much else, and suddenly seeing the Grand Canyon explode into view before his eyes. I saw the single best looking girl in the world fill up the window again. This time fully naked! “Yes she does shave every unnecessary hair on her body” I joyfully thought to myself.
I was blown away like a cow in a hurricane and then dumped in the greenest field ever created. I didn’t know what to look at. Her beautiful, perfect, magnificent breasts, her tight tiny shapely tummy, or her beautiful shaved pubic region! It was a sensory overload. She stood there like that for a long time, again starring up at the sunrise. With me staring up at her, nearly ripping a hole in the front of my pants. Eventually she decided to get dressed. First she put her bra on, then panties, then a blouse and a business skirt. She did this all while still standing in the window.
My whole life I had thought that a women naked was the only truly unbelievable visual experience a person like me could have. So I was really surprised to find out how amazingly erotic I found a women putting on clothes. When she was done she still looked incredible, in a business suit, looking very intelligent and important, it was sexy. She also looked a lot older when dressed like this. In her PJ’s or naked I would of guessed about twenty one or twenty two, but dressed she suddenly looked at least twenty five. I wondered if the right clothes would make me look more like an adult.
She stood at the window again, just briefly this time then turned and walked away. I waited for about ten minutes before finally conceding that she wasn’t coming back. I walked home feeling the best I had since way back when I was ten and my brother finally let me ride the bike that I had gotten for my birthday only three months after I had received it.
Feeling both happy for once, with a brilliant image in my head to block out my many, many awful ones, and feeling physically tired from such a long walk, I finally slept well. I slept for nearly eighteen hours straight. My new world record! When I woke up I watched some TV, and then realized that the sun must be rising again soon. So I walked the two blocks over and took up the same position as the night before behind the bush.
I waited and waited and waited for what seemed like an hour. Then just as I was about to give up and surrender to the fact that it was nothing more than a wonderful one off, she appeared again. There was something so magical about the way she would suddenly fill up her window.
She then proceeded to repeat almost the exact experience from the morning before. The pajamas, followed by the nudity and then getting dressed! All while watching the sunrise again. This girl obviously loved sunrises. I was starting to get quite fond of them myself!
Right then, it that moment, I started my brand new career as a peeping tom.
At first it was just the new love of my life. Window girl! Which was the first terrible nick name I gave her, but the best I could come up with at the time, in my defense my imagination had been overflowing with other thoughts to do with her! Then I shortened it to W girl. Equally crap. Then I decided to call her ‘Wendy’. Wendy my dream girl, who filled my life with starlight every sunrise!
After about twenty mornings of seeing her naked, I decided as brilliant as this was for a career choice for the moment I had enough time in my busy schedule to add several more clients to my morning routine. I just had to do some recruitment.
My original plan was just walking the streets at around sunrise trying to spot other naked girls in the windows. The closest I came to finding another nude friend, was one time spotting an extremely small man, short and thin, about the size of a small jockey, walking into his living room, with what seriously looked like a third leg, but upon which unfortunate further study showed to be a rather enormous male appendage. Lucky son of a bitch! He must have hot girls lining up all day to run their flags up and down his flag pole. For (hopefully) quite obvious reasons I didn’t go and look at that house again.
Instead I decided that further thought must be given to my recruitment process. Before I could do that though I had to fix up my financial situation. I knew working was just not going to agree with me. So I had to convince the lady at the unemployment office that I deserved to get unemployment benefits again. So I picked out my worst outfit (this wasn’t hard I only had two to choose between. Grey sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt with holes. Or a grey t-shirt with black sweatpants with holes, I went for the holey t-shirt and grey pants). Then I decided to cast aside my usual washing routine of once a fortnight. On top of that I wore that one outfit twenty four hours a day for three weeks, without having one shower. Then I went down to the office without fixing my hair at all either. I looked like I had just spent six months in a prisoner of war camp. My clothes were crumpled and noticeably filthy, my hair was a cross between Don King and Billy Ray Cyrus, and I stunk like a garlic farmer who washed in the sewer.
I walked into the office and my contact, Dorothy Raven, spotted me right away and told me to come over and sit down. As I got closer she started to do the limbo.
“That’s strange!” I thought to myself before realizing she was actually just arching her back with her head back to take what ever measures possible to not have to smell me.
“Maybe I didn’t need to go completely without showers” I thought
“Hello Miss Raven” I said quite cheerfully, trying to portray a sign that I hadn’t intentionally made myself look awful for her
“Hello Mr Domey” She replied
“The reason I am here is that I was fired from my job……it wasn’t my fault…..they were robbed by nine year olds……I hit my head, they drew on my face……I got a round of applause……they had lots of magazines……I tried to shoot myself with a cap gun…..they made me wear a grimy t-shirt……worse than this one…..they were mean…..it was dark…..I didn’t know they were nine…..I was afraid….I told you I would be afraid’
“Stop rambling Jason” She interrupted
“But I’m trying to explain”
“Its ok Jason, I heard what happened….I was wondering when you would come in again. I will do my best to get you some other job, perhaps something ….. less dangerous. But until then you will start receiving your unemployment benefits again right away”
“Now please, please, please get out of my office and go and have a shower…. you do have one don’t you?” She said interrupting me, obviously trying to end the conversation as soon as possible.
“Yes Miss Daven”
“Good day” She said and then walked away. As I left I saw her head straight for the bathroom. Probably smelt better in there.
“Joy to the world, they’re giving money to me, to me, to me, for free”, I sang to myself as I walked home.
With my finances sorted out in the best way possible I was free to recruit some new window shopping opportunities.
I decided to take the chance out of whether houses had nice girls in them or not, and start only going to houses where I knew for sure that beauty was present. Unfortunately I didn’t know any other houses with hotties in them, but I did have had a plan.
I started going to the train station every afternoon and watch people get off the trains. School girls, girls on their way home from work, yummy mummies, girls in their teens, girls in there twenties, girls in their thirties, girls in their forties, girls in their fifties, well not many in their forties and fifties. Then when I saw someone I would like to see more of I would follow them home.
At first my following skills were very ordinary. I would constantly get caught and have women looking back at me looking very worried or upset. Sometimes they would run away, sometimes they would go into shops and not come out for hours. Occasionally they would pull out cell phones and start making calls while frantically looking back at me and I was forced to abort the mission. Two or three times I had girls actually confront me and tell me to “STOP FUCKING FOLLOWING ME, YOU FUCKING CREEP!” Or something like that. And I would be forced to reply lamely something like “I’m not following you, I’m walking home, it’s not my fault your walking the same way” with a nervous voice which sounded on the verge of tears.
However over time I began to master my new trade. First thing I realized was that people take far less notice of other people walking behind them when they’re on the other side of the road. One thing for sure, never cross the road when they do! That stands out like me at a trendy nightclub, always noticed, always disturbing.
Next thing I realized was that it’s sometimes possible to follow someone from in front of them. Like if they’re walking down the strip of shops next to the train station, I could walk in front of them and stop every now and then to look into shop windows and get a look at where they were, so not to lose them. Shop windows also had the advantage of having reflections. One of the keys to following someone is to never look at them directly, look at the car driving past them, or at something making noise on the other side of the road as they’re walking past, or in the reflection of anything glass.
My next big break through was deciding that I didn’t need to follow a girl all the way home the first time I saw her. Over time I began to get into tune with the routines of various females in my area. Many got the same trains on a daily basis. I could see a girl on a Monday and follow her for a block or two and see where she turns next, then just by chance I could be walking down that street in the opposite direction on Tuesday and happen to see which way they turned next. Then Wednesday just by chance I could be walking down the next street and see where she went, and so on and so on. I became a master sleuth. I was the Sherlock Holms of the stalking trade. I was the best in the business. After a couple of months of following girls around I got so good that it had been a long time since anyone had even noticed me, and I suddenly started to know where just about every attractive girl with in a five mile radius of me lived, and I also knew all of their routines. I knew when they left for work, when they came home, what days they stopped to buy groceries on the way home, what days they went to the gym before coming home. I bet I knew more about their routines than they did half the time.
I began to put together statistics and charts on who I knew, where they lived and what they did. I had more than fifty different women on my list. Women of all hair colors, ages, body shapes and heights. They all had only two things in common, they were so very shaggable, and anytime they were in their home neighborhood I knew exactly where they would be. I don’t think most people even realize what creatures of habit they are. We all seem to fit our leisure and work time around a set criteria and it’s hardly ever broken. I didn’t even need a watch anymore, I knew if Vanessa (I even started to know lots of their names over time, if you spend enough time stalking someone you pick up things like that, you can hear a friend yell it out, see it on a book they’re carrying, or hear them on the phone) was walking into the seven eleven to buy a bag of sherbet lemons (she bought them every second day), it meant the 4:08 train had arrived three minutes earlier as Nessa (as I called her) was on her way home from school. This made it ..4:16pm.. (the train was always five minutes late).
Once I had my list perfected it was time to move onto phase two. I chose girls from my list one at a time and gave them my full attention. I would make my mind up to be casually walking down their street just as they were getting home from work or school, and watch to see a light turn on to indicate their bedroom. I would stalk out houses for twenty four hour periods to see what their living arrangements were like, see if they had brothers or boyfriends, see if their windows were easily seeable from the street, or see if they had good and safe viewing spots from the street.
As time progressed my list started to get smaller and smaller. Occasionally I would fluke a success and spot a bit of hairy goodness or her bouncing friends before I had really gotten to know a girl. They were first on my list of regulars. Then I came up with my top ten best peeping tom targets. Ten girls who had consistent knowable routines, who were very attractive, who had no known dangerous room mates, who had bedroom windows I could see into, and who had houses that I could feel safe outside for reasonable periods of time without constantly worrying about being caught .
Once my list was complete I could go to each house every day. I never had to give any houses too much time every morning. I knew what time these girls would be showering, and when they would be getting dressed for the day. So I just waited to see if they were in the mood to check out the weather while still in the buff. It still amazes me how many people do it. You just have to be at the right place at the right time to see it.
After only about six months since I had been fired from my job I had started to see on average about five or six naked women a week. I started everyday with my sunrise honey, Wendy, who always managed to make more than the sun rise every morning. Then I would walk from house to house to get my other fixes. No other girl was ever as reliable as my first true love, or as hot as her, but with ten on my list I usually got to see at least one other girl a morning. I couldn’t believe my luck. Who would have thought that I of all people in the world would have such access to such a large and regular variety of beautiful naked women to look at? I was seeing so much nakedness I thought playboy photographers would even be jealous of me.
Seeing them the way I did, I thought, was even more exciting than if they had just let me see them. This way it was still a challenge every day. There was still that moment or two when I would hold my breath as a girl I was watching for would be getting out of the shower and not sure whether or not she would walk by the window. There was that adrenalin rush every time. Nine times out of ten I would still see nothing, with all but my favorite girl Wendy. So even though I was getting frequent sightings it was still a thrill every time I got a peek. Especially after seven or eight disappointments already that day.
Also the fact I didn’t see everything was a turn on. Sometimes a girl would come to the window wearing a sexy little nighty, or just panties and a bra. Sometimes I would see them topless or just whisk by the window with nothing on at all, and I would only sneak a peak, but it would be fleeting, and leave me desperate for more. Or sometimes I would get the full show and they would stand at the window for ages, like Wendy usually did, and I could study their bodies and decided what I liked most about them.
Surprisingly this changed all the time. Sometimes I would have a fully naked girl fifteen yards in front of me in the morning sunlight, and I would just stare at her neck, or her upper thigh. It was still the typical naughty bits I watched the most though. I especially liked it on those rare, rare occasions when they would turn around and show me their firm petite little butts and then bend over to pick something up and reveal the full glory of their lovely little friend down underneath. It almost made me orgasm on site. I wished I could be friends with her friends!
In the afternoons I could still continue to try and find more girls. Occasionally I would rotate someone out of my top ten and replace them with someone completely new or sometimes an old girl from my original list. Variety is the spice of life after all! However my stalking began to get less and less productive. It came to the point that I wouldn’t even see a single new girl at the train station for weeks.
It was no fun trying to follow someone home when you already knew where they lived. Sometimes I would follow home a guy just for the enjoyment I got from outsmarting someone, and not getting caught. Of course obviously I didn’t want that to go any anywhere.
Then even the peeping tomming started to head towards tedium. I still saw Wendy every day; she was the love of my life. But sometimes I wouldn’t even bother looking at more than one or two other houses. Sometimes I would just walk around the neighborhood at random hoping to spot something new just out of the blue. I never did though.
After a good solid six months of peeping tomming at every single day break, I was sitting in the bushes outside Wendy’s house one morning, waiting for the sun to rise, the curtains to be pulled, and my love to show herself to me, when I unexpectantly started to think maybe I should stop this. Actually I had thought this a bunch of times before, but what the hell else was I going to do. I didn’t have a job, or friends, or even family that I wanted to see. So I kept doing this every day. Even when I was feeling a little over it, I still very much enjoyed those moments would nudity presented itself. How could I not!
Yet this day was different, I was even thinking of giving up Wendy. Maybe it was because it was my birthday? My twenty first!
I had spent a long time that morning starring at the mirror. I hated looking in the mirror; I had never liked the guy in there looking back at me. This morning however I looked for ages. I starred at myself wondering where the hell twenty one years had gone. How did I get to this being my life? How could it be my birthday and the only person I wanted to see that day didn’t even know I was alive. In fact if she ever did know I was alive she would have me put in jail, where I would have to shower every day in front of big tough men, with much larger penis’s than me, and I would be beaten and called bad names and raped.
I couldn’t believe I was twenty one. I looked about sixteen. And that’s not even me being hard on myself, I actually did look sixteen. At university some of the kids called me Dumb Dougie Domey. After the TV character ‘Dougie Howser’ who finished his medical degree aged fourteen. Obviously they somehow had decided that I was just like him, only stupid. How on fucking earth did those arseholes actually think that I got into a University at fourteen if I really was stupid?
I was thinking all this in front of the mirror, and then again in front of Wendy’s house. Then I looked up behind me. It was probably the most magnificent sunrise I had ever seen. As much as the reason I had been doing this every morning was mostly about seeing naked women, I had also really enjoyed seeing the sunrise every morning. This one though was more spectacular than any of the others
The clouds had formed this amazing swirl. It started at one side of the sky as a small thin line, and then got thicker and darker as it swept across all the way to the other side of the sky. Like an enormous ‘Nike’ symbol. The clouds themselves had this amazing color pattern of wavy shapes every shade of grey imaginable. But most spectacular was the color of the sky. I had never seen so much color. At the bottom, surrounding the sun, which was an enormous sphere today, was a deep, deep orange horizon. The above it merged into a yellow as bright as a lemon and then to purple and red all up to the blackness above still with some stars out for show.
It looked just completely surreal. It looked like it was painted; only the artist had exaggerated every color to make it more amazing than life could really create. Only this was real! I wondered briefly if the sun had actually gotten closer to earth over night, the sun looked bigger than I had ever seen it. I wondered if the sun would get closer and closer until we all burned to death, except rich people who would probably build some kind of huge freezer house at the centre of the earth and leave all the poor saps like me behind.
Then it occurred to me, such a wonderful sunrise, and the world’s number one fan of sunrises was missing it, where was Wendy? I looked back at her window trying to see if there was any movement behind the curtains. Had she just slept in? Did she have to leave early today? Was she sick? Had something bad happened to her? I began to worry.
I broke out into a sweat and my heart was thumping and adrenalin rushing through me. It was a completely different sort of adrenalin rush than I normally had while out with my friend Tommy Peeps, this was fear for someone else adrenalin. I wasn’t used to fearing for someone else and I didn’t like it at all.
I began to think of all sorts of horrible things that could have happened to her. She could of fallen going to the toilet in the middle of the night, and smashed her head hard into the cold hard porcelain of the toilet, and cracked her skull open wide and be lying on the floor in a pool of her blood, bleeding to death unless someone came in and saved her! She could have been attacked in the middle of the night by a thief she startled as he climbed in her window in black clothes and a ski mask, and he might have beaten her to death with the hammer he had used to pry open the window.
I thought about going in to knock on the door and then going inside to save her, if she could still be saved. But what would I say if she was there and opened the door? “Hi I’m JayJay Domey, I have been watching you nakedly watching the sunrise every morning for the past few months, and was just wondering when you were going to put on your show for me this morning? I do have other clients to see this morning you know!”
Just about the exact moment I had that thought, I heard a noise behind me.
I turned around and saw four large men standing right behind me!