[Peeping][End]

Seeing this title, many people will probably start criticizing me again. Whatever, go ahead and criticize. I'm just writing down my experiences; I've been holding it in for a long time, and I'm graduating soon anyway. Also, the purpose of this post is to warn my female classmates that I'm not the only one being spied on. After reading this, just be careful. My university is located in a province in western China. I can't reveal its name, but it's a university with over 50 years of history, formerly a branch campus of Tsinghua University. I believe that after reading this, my female classmates will know which university I attend. Getting back to the point, the first time I sneaked into the women's restroom was outside study room number two on the second floor of the new campus library. It was during my sophomore year, I think it was some kind of long holiday. The

holiday started that afternoon, and by noon, most of the people in study room number two had left, leaving only a few particularly diligent students. I was about to leave and use the restroom when a petite and cute girl came out. I watched her enter the women's restroom on the right, I think she went into the fourth stall. I noticed a 20cm gap under the stall, and outside the restroom was a corridor with two turns, so you couldn't see what was happening at the restroom entrance from the outside. Seeing that no one was around, I suddenly had a thought: I wanted to go in and peep. That's when my... My heart was pounding faster than usual. After carefully checking that no one was around, I mustered my courage and quickly slipped into the women's restroom. I climbed down to look at her stall, but unfortunately, I could only see her feet. Based on common sense, I knew she was standing. It was the first time I'd ever been so scared—afraid someone would come in, and afraid she'd suddenly come out. (But later I realized that my worries were unnecessary.) I slipped out again and stood in the corridor of the computer room, carefully observing the surroundings and the women's restroom door. No one was around, and she hadn't come out for a long time. I guessed she was still unzipping her pants, but I didn't dare go in again. So, my first attempt at peeping ended in failure. However, this experience gave me endless fantasies. After staying for a few minutes, I decided to leave. I was hungry and should go to the fifth canteen. That night

, I couldn't sleep. Although I didn't see anything, everything that followed was within my expectations. That night, I considered my spying plan from a thinker's perspective. Of course, the initial plan was garbage, but through repeated practice, I finally perfected it time and time again. So, theory comes from practice.

The next day at 1 PM, I sneaked back to the library. Walking into the lobby, I suddenly saw a girl on the third floor heading towards the women's restroom. At that time, the reading room on the third floor was closed. I was incredibly excited. I slowly climbed the stairs and walked in the same direction. I forgot to mention that the floor layout was the same. The restroom on the third floor was the same as on the second floor, with a winding corridor. You couldn't see what was happening inside from the outside. The third floor was where the library staff worked and the reading room was located. Because of the long holiday, the staff were all on vacation, and the reading room hadn't opened yet, so the entire third floor was empty except for me and that girl. I tiptoed to the restroom door, my heart pounding dozens of times faster than usual. Being a coward, I carefully checked my surroundings, especially the men's room. Finding no one there, I finally stepped into the adjacent women's room. My

heart was racing so fast I could barely breathe. The moment I climbed down, I saw what I'd been waiting for. It was in a brightly lit stall by the window, a small pink slit with a few hairs on it, and occasionally a tiny trickle of water. My heart was pounding; I was worried she might hear my breathing. I dared not breathe and tiptoed out, partly to observe the surroundings... I was wondering if anyone was around, and also to ease my nervousness. After waiting a short while, I wanted to go back in, but suddenly I heard the sound of flushing water. I quickly retreated, turned around, and ran to the stairs to see what the girl I had just spied on looked like. Her back view was quite nice, but our school is known for its "back view killers" (girls with great back views). A moment later, she came out. Wow, a beauty, the cute type, with light makeup. Looking at her relaxed expression, she seemed completely unaware of being spied on. I glanced at her crotch area; now she was fully covered up, whereas just a few minutes ago she had been completely naked in front of me, less than a meter away. Thinking about this, I felt excited for a while. Watching her go downstairs and into study room number three on the second floor, I was puzzled. Why did she have to go up to the third floor to undress for me when there was a toilet on the second floor? But later, during my spying, I learned the answer.

Compared to my later voyeuristic experiences, this was nothing. But it was my first time, and in my excitement and nervousness, I climbed to the fourth-floor rooftop, pretending to admire the view, but actually hoping for another girl to visit. Unfortunately, even after 2 AM, I only saw that one view. Regarding

the suggestion from upstairs to find prostitutes, maybe you're a girl and don't understand this. Guys might understand better. Let me tell you, I don't lack women. I've had one-night stands with girls from school and various vocational schools around here. But none of those are as memorable as voyeurism. Maybe only those with the same hobby as me will understand. Okay, I've rambled on too much. Let's get back to the point and continue my voyeuristic experience. At first ,

I didn't understand why the girls insisted on going to the third floor when there was a toilet on the second floor. After going back, I thought about it carefully. It's more troublesome for girls to use the toilet than for boys. Both small and large toilets take up a space, so the few available in the girls' restrooms are far from enough. Naturally, the girls have to go upstairs or downstairs to find a place to use the toilet. This doesn't happen with boys. This discovery laid the foundation for my future voyeuristic theories. As

everyone knows, people generally prefer to use the restroom in the morning, and the women's restrooms are often overcrowded. There's a door next to the second-floor restrooms that leads easily to the first floor via stairs, making it easy for women to overflow onto the first floor. To confirm my theory, I went to the first floor of the library early the next morning. One side has an elevator, which might be busy in the morning, so I chose the other side. They were pretty much the same anyway. Out of caution, I scouted around first. Since it was still a holiday, the first floor was practically deserted, without even a cleaner. I went into the men's restroom first, choosing the innermost stall near the women's restroom. I locked the door and waited quietly for my prey to take the bait. About a minute later, I heard the sound of high heels, followed by the creak of a door opening. Since it was morning and quiet, I heard the footsteps clearly as they entered the women's restroom next door. Having scouted beforehand

and found no one there, I boldly walked out of the men's room and quietly went in. The timing was perfect; the woman had just started urinating. Wow, it was probably her first time urinating that morning; it felt like a powerful waterfall. I remember her genitals were black, large, and not very attractive. So, after she finished, I went out, also wanting to see what this woman in high heels looked like. I found a corner and waited quietly for her to come out. About two minutes later, after she had flushed, washed her hands, and fixed her hair, she finally emerged. From the side, she was quite fashionable, with long hair; I guessed she was probably quite attractive. After she walked away, I sneaked back into the men's restroom, waiting for my next target. After watching seven or eight more girls, I realized the restroom was always busy, and going in rashly would easily get me noticed. After much deliberation, I decided to retreat. Back in my dorm, thinking about the girls I'd just seen and then touching my penis, I started fantasizing—it felt amazing.

This peeping continued for a long time. I'd go before lunch and before afternoon meals, and of course, I wouldn't miss the weekends. But each time I went, I'd change clothes to avoid anyone recognizing my figure and causing trouble. I was very careful during this time, so I was never caught. I saw all sorts of girls: some with little hair, some with a lot, some with no hair; some with small labia, some with large ones; some with red, some white, some pink. I guessed the pink ones were mostly virgins, while the black ones were probably experienced. These days were too bland, seemingly without any new passion, until he appeared.

I'm referring to him and another guy of mine. I don't remember exactly when I met him, but it was on the third floor of the library. One day at noon, I saw him while I was running errands. There shouldn't be any guys on the third floor at that time. When I saw him, I thought he was going to the restroom, so I temporarily retreated and hid in the stairwell next door. About ten minutes later, I figured he should have left by now, so I cautiously returned to my spot. Sure enough, he wasn't there. I was relieved and hid in the men's restroom stall near the women's stall, listening to the sounds outside. After a while, I heard the sound of high heels. I heard her go in and lock the door. Just as I came out of the men's restroom, ready to make my move (after everything I'd been through, the nervousness I had back then was gone), I suddenly saw him come back, as if he wanted to use the restroom. After mentally cursing his mother for having diarrhea, I had no choice but to slip away again down the stairs, hoping he wouldn't remember me. I saw him a few more times afterward

, but each time I wore different clothes, while he always wore the same outfit and the same pair of oversized sneakers. At first, I thought he was some kind of "detective" catching a peeping tom, which really startled me. However, after careful analysis, I figured he was probably one of us. A detail that followed soon confirmed my suspicions.

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