Chapter 8
I drove aimlessly without direction with the sole intention of putting as many miles between myself and Helen as possible in the shortest time. When the gas gauge came very close to the "empty" mark I suddenly realized that I didn't have a cent to my name. So, instead of driving into a gas station I went to the next used-car lot where a man offered me two hundred dollars for an auto I had spent six hundred dollars to buy a few months ago. I managed to squeeze another fifty bucks out of the sport and took a cab to the bus terminal. I just had to leave Los Angeles. I couldn't bring myself to spend another night in the city.
When I walked into the terminal I heard an announcer state that a bus was about to leave for Phoenix, Arizona. That seemed far enough away from L.A. so I bought a one-way ticket.
I hated the idea of working in another restaurant so I shopped around until I found a job as file clerk for an insurance office. It paid a minimum wage but I accepted it anyhow. When I saw that almost all my co-workers were going to be females of various ages I felt at ease. I wouldn't be meeting a man who would turn out to be a thief like Bill or a sadist like Jerry. Of course, I could always meet a dyke like Helen but nothing was perfect.
I took a room at a cheap hotel and, as always, checked my view. All I could see was a parking lot and a distant skyline. Maybe this was a good omen. Maybe my life was at a turning point.
My nineteenth birthday came and went. In another year I would leave my teen years. In still another year I would officially become an adult. I wanted to hurry up and get older. The more years I had on me the less vulnerable I would feel.
My social life in Phoenix was almost nil, but this didn't bother me. After servicing four boys and one girl back in L.A. I had enough memories to chew on. I did go to the company dance, though, where I met Borden. He was an insurance agent in his mid-twenties, single and considered to be a "catch" by the other girls. Borden was too smooth for me. He was used to girls fawning over him and, because I didn't, I think this is what attracted him to me.
The young man offered to drive me home. As soon as we got into the car he suggested we go to his place for a "nightcap." I wondered how many girls he got into his place with that corny old line. Yet, after six months of avoiding men, I wanted to see if I had any fires left. It was possible they had all been put out in my attempt to "drown" my voyeuristic compulsions through a massive dose of experience.
Borden had a nice apartment and it reminded me of all the lonely hotel rooms I had been living in since leaving home. He handed me a brandy and I sipped. In another minute he had an arm around me as we sat on the couch. "A girl with your looks shouldn't be living alone," he said.
"You live alone," I reminded him.
He gave me a playboy wink. "Not always," he grinned.
Borden kissed me lightly on the lips. When I didn't object he pressed himself against me and groped for my breasts. "Don't," I told him. "I'd like to go back to my room now."
"Am I coming on too strong for our first date?" he wanted to know.
By the way he phrased that question he was implying that there were going to be more dates to follow with the possibility that I'd land in his bed sooner or later. I let him think that just to get out of his apartment with my virtue and his ego still intact. When I stood up to go I noticed that his bedroom window overlooked an empty building. Click. Something snapped on in my head. Only a voyeur would think about something like that. Shit! Was it starting to happen again?
As Borden drove me back to my hotel he passed that deserted building directly across the street from his apartment. A Peeping Tom could have a field day or night there since he would be hidden from view and the people in the apartment would be careless about pulling down shades since they would expect no one to be looking at them from the empty structure. I felt my palms moisten. No, there were fires still burning inside me but they were the wrong kind. While I didn't want the young man to love me I felt a strong urge to watch him make love to others.
That Saturday night I paced my hotel room. Borden and the blonde were out on a date and I was sure that he would take her to his apartment for a "nightcap." I was like a junkie trying to shake off his need for a fix as I forced myself to stay in my room. Then, as so many junkies had done, I gave up the struggle and went out into the night looking for my special brand of dope.
Borden's car wasn't parked near the building and the lights to his apartment were out. I figured that he hadn't come home yet and slipped and slipped into the empty building across the way. Once inside the dusty hall I paused and listened. Tramps liked to sleep in these deserted structures and I didn't want to run into one now. The place seemed as empty as it looked and I climbed the stairs carefully. It occurred to me that I was running an awful risk. The steps could cave in or a rat could bite me. Only a true Peeping Tom would put himself out so much for a good sighting.
Cars moved up and down the street with their headlights boring yellow beams into the darkness. There wasn't much traffic since the apartment was in a suburban neighborhood. Then I heard a car stop in the street below. When I looked down I saw a couple. The girl's laugh was familiar. . .Sharon. They had arrived. The play was about to begin.
He made drinks and sat on the couch with her. When I saw his lips move I could all but hear him say, "What's a pretty girl like you living alone for?"
Borden kissed the blonde and she ran her fingers along his face. My pussy began to itch for the first time in months. I had neglected that portion of my body as I had neglected my eyes. I cursed myself for throwing away that vibrator.
The handsome young man cupped a hand over the girl's breast. He seemed to be moving according to script. So far he was doing everything he had done to me that night at the apartment. But Sharon didn't act as I had. She responded fully to his overtures. After another few minutes of hugging and kissing he picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He turned on the light. It was only a small, table lamp but it gave me all the light I needed. Borden placed the pretty girl gently on the bed and removed her shoes. Sharon smiled and said something. They both laughed. For a girl who looked so sweet and innocent she sure went through a sex scene easily enough.
Both of them started to take off their clothes. Borden was very neat and carefully put his pants and jacket into the closet. There was no tearing passion with this man. When Sharon gave him her dress he hung it in the closet, too. Soon both were down to their underwear.
When Borden pulled his shorts down I sucked in my breath and took a bead on his body with the binoculars. He stood facing Sharon so that I had a side view. His prick stood up like a flagpole and it seemed to be excessively large. His body was a bit flabby but he was still well built. He stood in front of the girl as if proud of his figure. Men, I've discovered, were far vainer about themselves than women.
Sharon took off her bra. Her breasts were firm and pointy. She took her panties off and revealed the interesting fact that her sexual area was completely hairless. I knew that some woman like to shave between their legs to get that little-girl effect. Men who dug Lolita types went for smooth-shaven boxes.
Borden took careful note of the smooth area and rubbed his hand between the girl's legs. Then, finding her vagina to his liking, he knelt before her while Sharon lay across the bed, her feet still on the floor. I had a perfect view of the oral act. I could see the man's tongue lap over the shadowy line of her hairless slit. Sharon rubbed her nipples as he Frenched her and spread her legs wide to take in Borden's bobbing head. The young man opened his mouth wide and slipped his hands under her ass. Sharon squirmed on the bed as he gave her a blow job.
Borden lifted his head and stood up. He said something and the naked blonde girl moved to the center of the bed. The bachelor took his tool in hand and guided it into that smooth-shaven gash. He rammed all he had into the girl and started rutting. Sharon's knees came up and, as I had done so many times, pushed up against her lover as he rose. Her long legs curled around his thick limbs and her pale hands groped his back and rump. Sharon wasn't the shy, passive thing I had always thought her to be. She was giving as well as she got.
Borden stopped moving and I watched the girl clutch his buttocks passionately. He was coming and she had also reached the climax of her lust. My eyes blurred as I watched. Sex-hunger rose up in me like a flame. I could be in that apartment if I wanted to. All I had to do was accept Borden's next invitation.
I kept returning to that old building armed with the binoculars and the vibrator. Sharon was now living with Borden so there was some kind of action every night. When they took off their clothes in the tiny tits just about to grow and a smooth pussy. It was obvious she hadn't as yet discovered the joys vibrator. It was as if I were the third party in a three-way sex orgy.
I didn't ignore the other apartments in Borden's building. He wasn't the only one who neglected his shades. In the apartment just under Borden's was a couple of attractive men living together. At first I thought they might be homosexual but they showed no signs of making sexual overtures to one another. They were just a couple of straight guys splitting the rent. Both spent much of their time reading books and I assumed that they were teachers or engineers boning up for examinations. I could see right into their bedroom where they had twin beds. When they showered they liked to walk around with towels wrapped around them and they both slept naked. One of the men had a slim, hairless body while his friend was built like a truck with a thick chest and swollen arms. Strangely enough the slim, effete-cooking man had the biggest prick. The husky fellow had a short, stumpy penis that revealed not much more than the shiny head. Sadly enough I never saw either one of them have an erection. I wondered where they went for sex?
A married couple lived in one of the apartments with a boy of twelve and a girl of eleven. I don't know where the couple slept but the boy slept in one of those fold-away beds that came out of a chair and the girl had a room to herself. It was an education to watch these two kids examine their own bodies since they were at the stage of their lives where curiosity ruled supreme.
Then, a month after I had started my sightings, the place was torn down.
I climbed over the rubble and tried to look into the windows of the apartments. It was no use.
I would have to expose myself completely to get a passing look at anyone. When I left the rubble and started to walk to the bus that would take me to my hotel a police car screeched to a halt near the curb. "Hey, mac!" the driver called.
When I turned the policeman's face registered surprise. At the same moment a woman came rushing across the street from the apartment I had looked at night after night for a month. I recognized her as the mother of the two children. "That's him! That's him!" she was shouting as she came.
I tightened up. I would have to bluff my way out over another bind again. . .this time with a policeman. "What's this all about?" I asked the officer.
"Well, there's been a report of a Peeping Tom around here," he said awkwardly.
When the woman came over and saw that I was a girl her face dropped. The policeman seemed bored, as if he had been taken out on one too many of these "false" reports. "Is this your Peeping Tom?" he aksed the woman.
"Why. . .why of course not!" she exclaimed. "She's a girl!"
I laughed lightly. "I was just passing through on my way from the store," I said which explained the bag I was holding and also giving me an excuse. The bag contained my voyeur's equipment of binoculars, vibrator, sandwiches and thermo of coffee all of which I had brought along in preparation for a few good hours of peeping and jerking-off. If the policeman looked into the bag he would've put all the times together and come up with that oddity...the female voyeur.
The policeman didn't look into the bag and implied that the woman who had complained had been seeing things. She insisted otherwise. "He was right there on top of that rubble!" she maintained. "He was looking right at me."
"Sure, lady, sure," the policeman said in a tone heavy with sarcasm. He promised to patrol the area more closely for the next few nights and drove off.
I had forgotten that Borden had an apartment in that building and was taken aback when I heard him talk about last night's little street adventure to the other file clerks. Sharon, hiding the fact that she was living with the bachelor now, pretended that she was getting all this information for the first time.
"My neighbor runs across the street and catches up with this guy she says is a Peeping Tom." he was saying. "Only it doesn't turn out to be a guy but a girl. She told me that she was a pretty kid, only a teenager but she was dressed like a man almost.
"She sounds like a psycho," one of the file clerks announced. "Only men prowl around looking into windows. But there's an exception to every rule."
The more they talked about the mysterious female voyeur the sicker I got. I wanted to take the day off but I didn't dare. This would only indicate that I was the one. My co-workers talked about me without knowing it. They wondered what made a girl a Peeping Tom. They kept using words like "crazy" and "psycho" just as those boys had at the beach in California. When the boss came in and demanded that everyone get back to work I was relieved. I managed to get through the day and dragged myself over to my hotel room. I looked at my dark clothes hanging in the closet, the ones I wore for my nighttime prowling. I looked at my binoculars and my vibrator. I looked at the thermo I always filled with coffee. Then I looked at my face in the mirror. The face of a pretty teenaged girl didn't go with all that sick, crazy, psycho stuff. Peeping Toms were men.
My boss hated to see me go especially since I didn't even give him the usual two-weeks notice. I made up some story about there being an emergency in my family and he let me go. After I took out all my money from the bank I shopped around for a used car that took most of it. I hoped I wouldn't get desperate enough to have to sell this one. I checked out of the hotel and drove out of Phoenix. When the desert engulfed me and I was alone of the road I felt safe. No people meant no voyeurism. There was no need for peeping when there no people to peep at.