Adults only 18+
All rights belong to the author: David Crane.
This is a short fragment for review the book. The full version can be purchased in the store.

David Crane
Peeping family

CHAPTER ONE

"Wasn't it nice of Arthur to invite us for the weekend?" Maggie Jones said, as she unfastened her bra. She was standing in front of the full-length mirror. She smiled with a touch of narcissism as she saw the way her big tits rolled from the loosened bra. She was a sultry, sexy woman and she knew it. She liked to be sultry and sexy and her husband Paul liked her that way, too.

Paul was undressing behind her, by the bed.

He said, "Yes. But I can't understand why a bachelor like Arthur wanted to have a big house like this."

"He must entertain a lot," Maggie speculated.

Maggie and Paul didn't really know Arthur Campbell very well and had been mildly surprised, although pleased, when the man had invited them to his country home for the weekend. This was their first night there. Thus far, Arthur had proven a gracious host. They had dined by candlelight, off silver. They had been given plenty to drink.

Maggie, still looking at herself in the mirror, pushed her bikini panties down, squirming her hips.

Paul was watching her and her reflection, both. He saw his wife's slender back and thrusting, heart-shaped ass and, beyond her, he saw her tits and crotch reflected in the glass. It was like having two women naked in the room, he thought.

His cock began to get hard.

He noticed that his wife's nipples were stiff.

Naked now, Maggie was still regarding her image, smiling slightly, pleased by what she saw. She saw Paul move up behind her. He, too, seemed pleased. They exchanged a smile in the looking glass. Paul stepped close, and put his hand on her shoulder. Maggie tossed her head back against him.

She felt his big, hard prick pushing against her ass.

His hands moved around and cupped her fat tits. He kneaded the globes and pulled at her taut nipple.

Maggie squirmed her ass back against his cock.

"Let's go to bed," Paul whispered.

"No let's fuck right here, in front of the looking glass," Maggie suggested.

Paul grinned. He knew that his wife was a narcissist it suited him to a tee. He never had to do without a piece of ass, because Maggie could always be made hot by a compliment or a reference to how desirable her body was.

She reached behind her ass and began to stroke and fondle Paul's cock and balls. He rubbed her belly, then cupped her crotch. Her cunt was already wet and the pussy lips were parted. His fingers slipped easily through the juicy slot.

Maggie guided his cock to her cunt.

She spread her legs apart and worked the head of his prick around in her hot fuck-hole, stirring her passion with his cockhead as if it were a spoon in a bowl of cream. She rested her head against his chest and continued to look in the mirror. Paul gripped her by the hips and lunged in and up, driving the full length of his cockshaft up her pussy. Maggie whimpered with, the sensation. She began to move immediately, her wide hips grinding, her soft belly heaving. Paul started to feed the cock to her with long, steady strokes.

They both looked in the mirror.

They could see his prick vanish up her fuckhole, then reappear, lathered with cunt juice. They saw his bloated balls swing in as his belly slapped against her ass. They saw her creamy cunt lips pull and suck on his cockmeat and her clit stiffen and throb.

Inspired by the sight as much as the sensation, Maggie began to moan and cry out.

Her pussy creamed.

Hot cunt juice poured down his prickshaft and coated his balls. Paul rammed in and out with vigor and, a moment later, gasped as his balls exploded and his thick cum spurted into her cunt. He kept pounding away, pouring spurt after spurt of jism into her pussy. As he withdrew, cum and cunt juice gushed out. The cream ran down her slick thighs and flooded onto his balls.

They watched it all in the mirror.

Maggie wished that they had a nice mirror like that in their own bedroom. She decided to buy one. But it wouldn't be the same, really. It made a lovely change to be in a strange bedroom, to make love to Paul in a new setting.

It was almost as if she were with another man.

And another man sat, fascinated, on the other side of that full-length looking glass. It was their host, Arthur Campbell. He was leaning towards the mirror on the other side, his brow gleaming with perspiration. He had his prick in his hand, pulling it up and down.

The mirror was not a normal one. On the bedroom side, it reflected but from the other side it was a window.

Arthur had watched them fuck.

Arthur was delighted that they had done it standing up in front of the mirror. His perspective had been ideal. He had had other couples stay in that room, but usually they fucked in bed so that he couldn't really get a good view. Tonight had been the best ever.

From his secret vantage point, he had seen Paul's fat prick push in and out of Maggie's juicy pussy. He had seen the cunt juice and the cum pour out from her pussy slit. The sight was pleasing to Arthur, who was a confirmed voyeur.

Maggie and Paul went to bed.

Arthur waited, jerking his prick slowly, hoping that they might fuck again, but they were drained. Well, he couldn't complain. They had provided him with a visual delight.

When he realized that they were not going to fuck again, he began pounding his cock faster. His hand flew up and down his face contorted, eyes narrowed, lips slack. After a moment, a drop of jism sprayed from the head of his prick and splattered against the glass.

Arthur wiped it up with his handkerchief before he left.

He liked to keep that mirror-window clear.

When Campbell had the house built, he had told the architect that there had to be a large closet between the two guest bedrooms. Ostensibly, it was a closet. The architect wondered why Campbell was so adamant about the location of a closet, but asked no questions. He was being overpaid. The builders wondered why Campbell should want two full-length mirrors in a closet, as well, but it was his house and his money. And the man who installed the special looking glasses, seeing the way they were situated, had a wink and a chuckle over it. He wished that he had mirrors like that in his own home as well as a guest room into which to spy. He envied Campbell and, the night after he had installed the special glass, he fucked his wife three times, to her amazement.

From either bedroom adjoining the closet, the mirrors seemed just that innocent mirrors.

But from within the closet, when that room was dark or dimly illuminated, one could see through the glass as plainly as through a window see what went on in both bedrooms.

Arthur entertained a lot.

He invited handsome couples to stay, he wined them and dined them and he watched them.

No one ever knew.

It was Arthur's main pleasure in life, watching people fuck. He had never made love to a woman, himself. He had never wanted to. Once he had gone to a prostitute, but he had paid her to masturbate while, fully clothed, he looked on. That had been all right, but not nearly as good as his secret spying. The fact that she knew she was being observed had lessened his pleasure.

From his closet, Arthur had seen all sorts of things.

He had seen women giving blow-jobs to their husbands and he had seen husbands eating out their wives pussies. He had seen two episodes of ass-fucking and one delightful sixty-nine. Then one day he had invited two couples for the weekend. He was in high hopes. With both rooms occupied, he figured that he had twice as much chance of seeing some good fucking in detail. He had gone to the closet with a glass of champagne and a cigar and settled down to wait.

He had been surprised when the two women, both young, sexy, juicy creatures, had gone into one of the bedrooms together. He had turned to the other room. The husbands were playing cards, talking and laughing and exchanging winks.

Arthur looked back to the other room. The two young women were making love together.

Lust had filled Arthur. He gulped his champagne, put his cigar down and produced his prick.

He began to jack off.

The girls stroked and petted and kissed for a while.

Then they began to suck each other off.

Arthur had never witnessed that before. His nose was pressed right up against the glass, his hot breath clouding the view. Then, just as the girls began to thrash about in ecstasy, the two husbands had entered the room.

Arthur expected them to be shocked.

Instead, they were delighted.

They stood at the foot of the bed, content to watch while their wives got on with it.

They had known! It had all been prearranged!

They, too, loved to watch!

Watching the watchers, Arthur was consumed by a passion greater than he had ever known before. He was as excited by seeing the excitement on the men's faces as he was by seeing those nimble tongues flashing up those juicy cunts.

He shot a wad against the glass.

His prick was hammering away, clamoring for more, even as he wiped the sticky load up. He came again.

By the time the girls had finished sucking each other off, Arthur had jerked off four times and was still hard.

Then their husbands joined the girls on the bed and Arthur was treated to the wondrous sight of a four-way cluster fuck, a coupling so complicated that he had difficulty telling what part belonged to what person. A man would have needed a map to figure it out.

Arthur whacked off twice more.

At long last, the four fuckers were finished. They turned out the lights and all slept together. Arthur staggered to his own bedroom. In bed, remembering what he had seen, he decided to give himself one more hand-job.

They found him in the morning, dead of a heart attack.

That was why the big house with the special closet came up for sale and why the Bradshaw family, knowing nothing about the mirrors, bought it and moved in.

CHAPTER TWO

Charles Bradshaw had been born with a bit of money and the instincts to make money. At forty years of age, he was able to spend more time on the golf course than in his office and figured that it was time to buy a country home. His wife, Laura, was in full agreement. Laura liked the idea of being a gracious country gentlewoman. She subscribed to Country Life magazine and bought a lot of tweedy clothing. They were a handsome couple. Charles was tall and lean and suntanned. He had a clipped, military-style mustache and dark hair, graying fashionably at the temples. He looked rather like a cavalry officer from the days of the British Empire.

Laura was thirty-six but looked younger. She was slender and willowy. She dieted constantly, eating mainly lettuce, in order to remain thin. She ate a lot of cock, too but there were not many calories in that.

Laura had long, dark hair and she wore it perfectly straight to below the shoulders, as straight as if she had ironed it. She had green eyes and a mouth so sensual that even nibbling on a lettuce leaf seemed an erotic act. Despite the slimness of her torso, her tits were large and she emphasized them by her posture, moving in a gently sway-backed way so that she came at a man tit-first. Her ass was a tightly packed valentine and her hips were mobile and pneumatic. Even in her tweedy country clothing, she was sexy and wearing a low-cut or tight-fitting dress, she was very sexy, indeed.

They were not an inhibited couple.

They had discovered that, and that they were well matched, on their first date, some sixteen years ago.

Charles had taken her to the theater and then to the dinner. When he drove her home she asked if he wanted to come in. She had her own apartment. No sooner were they inside the place than Laura proceeded to open his fly and pull his prick out. Charles was not inexperienced with women, and he was delighted at not having to go to the trouble of seducing her. He sat back to enjoy it. Laura stroked his cock up nice and hard and then went down on him. She showed a rare talent as a cocksucker and, within minutes, Charles was trembling violently. ...

Adults only 18+
All rights belong to the author: David Crane.
This is a short fragment for review the book. The full version can be purchased in the store.