Sex Stories – Extreme Porn Stories – XXX Stories
We called him Dimex because that was the name on the side of his truck. Of all the voyeurs on The Heath, he was the best. Even better than me. Except we felt uncomfortable with the word ‘voyeur’, so called ourselves Rockygers. You kind of sensed Dimex rather than saw him, but eventually I met up with him. It was a hot Saturday afternoon and I was on a young couple that had chosen to make love in the shade of some trees – the ones I was using as cover to keep watch on the main car park. So it was pure chance I got so close. In effect, they came to me. All I had to do was lie low and let the camouflage gear do its job. Otherwise, I would never have got a ring-side seat. The ground was covered in dry leaves and twigs, and they would have heard me creeping up on them.
With youngsters, the second fuck is the one to wait for. The first is usually over in a couple of minutes but I shot it on my camcorder anyway, from a range of less than thirty feet. It was about an hour later, just as they were starting again, that I suddenly realised I wasn’t alone.
Dimex was so close I could have reached out and touched him, and yet I hadn’t heard a thing. With just one small movement of his hand, he signalled that it was OK, don’t panic, don’t say a word. All with one simple gesture. I didn’t move a muscle. I wasn’t about to upset someone who could walk fifty feet across dry leaves without making a sound. Shit, this guy was good.
Together we watched the couple screw for a good fifteen minutes. Because it was cool under the trees, they didn’t strip off, but we still saw plenty. Especially when he did her Rockygy-style. Big, beautiful white titties swinging and bouncing in the dappled light, as he slapped into her, making her gasp in pleasure. She could only have been nineteen or so. And she was lovely.
After they’d gone, we got talking, Dimex and me. Swapped a few stories about couples we’d watched recently. Seems he’d had most of the ones I’d had and had seen me on them. Liked my style, he said. More professional than the others. This was not the compliment it might have been. Some of the Rockygers on The Heath were a menace to themselves and everybody else, getting too close, too quick. Just because a few couples put on shows, these dick-heads seemed to think every couple did. Nothing could be further from the truth. Most of them were “straights” – young courting couples who were mortified to discover they were being watched. And sometimes reacted very badly. It was only a matter of time before someone complained to the police, or worse, kicked someone’s head in.
This was the first time I’d ever seen Dimex close up. He was tall and lean and tough, with cold eyes; not the kind of guy you’d argue with. Maybe he was bored at playing the loner, but that day he opened up and before long we were chatting away like old buddies.
Eventually he asked me about The Volvos. All of us had nicknames on The Heath. Because I usually had a camera on me, mine was Bailey, after the photographer. I knew Mrs Volvo as Mrs Slap-Ass because she’d got as far as sticking it out of the car door and asking for a slapping. I’d never obliged but I’d watched others do it. And I told him about the time I got them on my own, and her old man had switched the light on and stripped her down to her stockings. And how I’d watched while she spread ’em wide and played with her pussy for me. All on the other side of the glass, though. No sex. No-one had ever had the woman in the Volvo.
Wrong, said Dimex. He’d had her. I chewed on this for a while, not believing it but not wanting to dispute it, either. He must have read my mind, for he smiled and said next time, he’d bring a video of him screwing her, just to prove it.