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Shadow Puppetsthis story is part of the FanClub (fm:voyeurism, 5667 words)

Author: Prybar
Added: Jan 07 2013Views / Reads: 2329 / 1543 [66%]Story vote: 8.68 (28 votes)
Voyeur, slut wife, group, hell I don't know. What you see on the wall isn't always what you think.
 

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You might call me a pervert, but I'd fight you on that. I'm not a pervert. I don't sneak around in the bushes peering into windows. I don't leave video cameras in the ladies restrooms. I don't even hang around under stairwells hoping for a peek up a skirt. Haven't done that one since high school.

Nope, I'm a gainfully employed middle class blend into the background kind of guy. Heck, I don't even pester my wife Jennifer unreasonably when she says she's not in the mood. Not much, anyway. We've been faithful to each other for the eight years since we married, right out of college. I look, but I don't touch. And when I look it's in the open.

So all I did was step into the den one evening to close the drapes in the south window, for the winter sun shining in on the aquarium in the afternoon turns the water green with algae if we forget to close those drapes. It was already dark outside, and since I had just awoke from my nap on the couch, I hadn't yet turned on any lights in the house. The TV glowed in the family room, but the den was totally dark. I was in a hurry to get back to the football game, and passed the den heading to the john. And I noticed the drapes in the den window had been left open.

Jennifer does that sometimes. Opens the drapes. She sits at her computer in the den early each morning, checking her email and facebook, and she likes the morning light. And she often forgets to close them. Then she complains that I don't clean the aquarium often enough. So I went in to close the drapes....again.

I was standing at the window and reached up with each hand to tug the drapes closed, and I noticed the light was on in the Stafford's bedroom window. And their drapes were open. For a moment I peered into their home through the slight gap between our drapes. Our home was a couple of feet higher than the Stafford's, as Cottonwood Drive climbs a slight hill. So my view was clear and down into their bedroom. In typical fashion, our suburban homes were mere feet apart, so I might as well been standing on their deck looking in.

OK, so no big deal. I've been in the Stafford's master bedroom. We had dinner with them just the week before, and Jack took me back to show me

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