Childhood voyeuristic memories

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

I can't remember when I started enjoying spying on women using the toilet and showering. I know it's a bit perverted, but I can't control myself; I'm getting more and more addicted because the thrill of voyeurism is much stronger than sex. Some say that a sophisticated voyeur is like a sniper; but I'm more like a wolf, a wolf wanting to steal meat. Lurking in women's restrooms is tense and dangerous, worrying about being caught, yet I enjoy it. Luckily, I've never been caught, perhaps thanks to my caution.
My principle and bottom line for voyeurism is to avoid causing trouble or harm to the women. Perhaps, compared to those women who are molested, groped, or threatened, the women I spy on are lucky and won't suffer too much harm. Most of them won't even realize that their private parts are being spied on, let alone be bothered by being secretly filmed. Thinking about this makes me feel a little more at ease.
Enough of this digression, let's get to the main topic of the story.

Chapter One: My Childhood Beginnings

When I first started spying, I was about ten years old. My overall memory is hazy, but some scenes are still vivid in my mind. Back then, there was a large pasture outside the village where everyone stacked hay; it was my childhood paradise. We would play there, playing hide-and-seek and tag.
In one game of hide-and-seek, I hid in the outermost corn stalk stack. The corn stalk stack was hollow, making it easy to hide. Hidden inside, I could clearly see outside through the gaps, but it was difficult for those outside to spot me.
After a while, there was still no movement outside. I wondered if they had abandoned me and gone home. Sometimes, adults would call the children home, and the rest would probably disperse, occasionally forgetting that someone was still hiding there. I thought I'd wait a little longer, and if there was still no movement, I planned to come out. I was tired of squatting inside, so I decided to lie down and close my eyes for a nap. Just then, I heard footsteps outside; someone was running towards me. I thought, "Finally found me!" Looking outside, I saw a rather tall girl, the older sister of one of my playmates, who was about fifteen or sixteen years old at the time.
Just as I was about to come out, she had already reached the corn stack where I was hiding. She looked around, then quickly pulled down her pants and squatted down in front of me, less than half a meter away. What?! I was stunned and didn't dare to breathe. If she saw me, she might hit me. This older sister was quite fierce; once I saw her scratch the face of a big kid in the village, so I was a little afraid of her. Even if she didn't hit me, it would be incredibly embarrassing if word got out.
Our village is still very conservative; even five or six-year-old children know that you can't look at a woman's private parts, adults say it will give you a sty. So, she urinated in front of me, her entire genitals were clearly visible, and I could even smell the heat and a slight odor of her urine. I was a little afraid of being discovered, and also afraid of getting a sty, but I also felt a strange excitement; my heart was pounding, and my face was burning hot. The girl, around fifteen or sixteen, had already started puberty, though perhaps she was a late bloomer. At that time, she had very little hair, just a small tuft. Her labia were pink and tightly closed. A stream of urine shot out powerfully, making a whooshing sound and carving a small puddle in the sand. After urinating, she bounced her hips up and down a few times. Apparently, some urine dripped onto her buttocks, and bobbing helped to shake it off. That was the first time I understood why girls bounce their hips after urinating.
I thought she'd left after urinating, but I didn't expect her to have a bowel movement! My God! While she was defecating, she was making humming noises, as if she was straining. Her vagina was also contracting forcefully, and her labia minora were opening and closing. There was a tiny opening inside, and that opening would contract on its own, slowly oozing a sticky fluid that kept flowing to the ground. At the time, I didn't know what it was, but I was certain it wasn't urine. Thankfully, there wasn't much of a smell when she urinated, and I watched the whole thing without moving or blinking. I've never told anyone about this. I guess even if she knew I'd seen her, she wouldn't be angry, since I was just a kid then, and she did it herself. Even
now, more than ten years later, thinking back still gets me excited. The scene is still vivid in my mind, and that older sister's vagina is still deeply imprinted there.
From the moment I saw her urinate, I started thinking about how to peep at women urinating. I was in third grade then, and I'd be in fourth grade in the fall. I was a good student and was always the class monitor. The school toilets were old-fashioned dry toilets, so it was easy to get caught if you just went in, and there were basically no opportunities. But there was still one chance to get into the girls' toilet and see the girls' vaginas. Kids often played pranks on each other, pushing boys into the girls' toilet. For ordinary kids, that was very embarrassing. But for me, it was a shy yet happy thing.
When playing this game, I would always deliberately stand at the entrance of the girls' toilet, so the chances of being pushed in were higher. Because I wanted to play pranks, I would always push girls into the toilet when they were urinating. After being pushed in, sometimes I would deliberately fall down, landing in front of a girl's stall, staring intently at her vulva. This way, I could see for a longer time, and from below, I could see more clearly. Most fifth and sixth grade girls had pubic hair, tiny little pubic hairs, which were very alluring. Then, being clever,
I would often pretend that most of the girls in my class didn't have pubic hair. But
we had two PE classes every week. Those were the happiest times. Because only our class played on the playground, the teacher often left us behind and went back to the office, especially in winter. The teacher basically let us play however we wanted while he went to warm himself by the fire. This made us even happier.
One time during PE class, I was pushed into the girls' toilet again. I deliberately fell down, and unexpectedly, our math teacher was urinating inside. I pretended to fall, and with my head on the ground, I could clearly see the math teacher's vulva. Hehe, it was the first time I'd seen such a big vulva with so much pubic hair. A large patch of thick, dark pubic hair had grown, even extending to her labia and reaching her anus, which was completely surrounded by black hair.
My teacher usually liked me because I was the best in math in the class, so when I entered, she wasn't particularly startled; she calmly finished urinating, which gave me the opportunity to see the whole process. I think she probably thought I was still a child, about the same age as her son, so she didn't notice me peeking at her. A kind teacher.
In elementary school, I was very timid and could only peek occasionally when I had the chance to play pranks. But this was the beginning of my sexual awakening, and it also opened the door to voyeurism.

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Childhood voyeuristic memories

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