I Might Not Get Off but I Will be Fascinated

I am without a question, a doubt, or an inkling of hesitation a voyeur.  Which brings me to this week’s Kink of the Week topic.   When Jade put out the teaser of Do you like to watch it took me back to my  old post  “Do You Like to Watch”  and the events of story I told forever ago.   It was the first time anyone asked me the question in those specific words.  As wonderfully dark as those memories are that was then.   What about now?

Watching In General

I constantly watch people, put me in a room filled with activity and I’m just fin sitting there drinking it all in. Whether it’s an occasional munch, a play party, a vanilla conference, restaurant, night club or sporting event.  Yes I know it’s not voyeurism in the classic sense.   That there’s not necessarily a sexual component to that type of behavior still I like to watch.  To be part of the back drop and just observe people,  how they interact, how the behave when they think no one is watching, what they look like when their guard is down, when they are feeling free, or the rest of the world has ceased to exist. On many levels it fascinates me.

Do they smile less or more?  Do they carry themselves differently? Does the smile fade, the manners change, or a myriad of other things.  And yes selfishly I learn a lot about others this way, as a writer and as a human being.   Who is real, and who is posturing, perhaps on rare occasions how people really view themselves.   I live alone in public spaces due to my travel schedule so there are constant places to observe others who are pre occupied with things.

Watching Kink (and Music)

Excluding videos and pictures; which are a form of voyeurism that I do use purely for entertainment or stimulation reason and serve their purpose.  Gasp I watch porn and kink videos…Oh the humanity!   However if I’m watching a live scene odds are it’s the same as if I’m watching a live band.   It might seem strange to compare kink and music but this has more do with how I process.   Both are things I truly love.

I watch how the drummer plays, how the bassist grooves and mostly being a guitarist I watch how the guitar player’s hands transition from note to note, chord to chord, and form to form.  Watching a kink scene whether rope, impact play or any other possible combination of kinks rarely do I step back and go “fuck is that hot”.  It happens but not very often.   I wish I could just step back and enjoy it but instead I’m watching the set up, how the scene flows; the reactions of the bottom, the movements of the top, the interplay, word play, and body language of both.  There is nothing inherently sexual about it.  Sadly it is an academic study for me.   I am learning, in some cases techniques, in others ideas, I am weighing my own interests and skills against theirs.   Not in a “damn I’m so much better than them” way that is somewhat common in both in music and kink but instead to learn, study and observe.   I certainly get pleasure from it but it’s more an intellectual pleasure than a sexual one.  It gives me ideas that I can take and replicate or build upon and make my own for me and my play partners.

Watching Sex

For years in both my lifestyle and my vanilla life if you ask me how I see the world the answer is something along the lines of “when I close my eyes the universe looks like a Prince video set in the depths of hell”.  It’s cliché and cavalier but being in a room filled with people having sex, vanilla, multi partner, an open sex room with an assortment of couples seems like a natural back drop.   Go watch the Gett Off video and add in a high end swinger party and you have how I choose to view the world.

Surround me with people who are engaged in insert part A into B, thrust and repeat and I won’t not watch,casually.   However given a choice I look for those people who seem to have a deeper connection a connection that is either deeply physical, riding an indescribable wave of pleasure, or seemingly an emotionally intense connection.    

I prefer to watch no matter what it is from the sidelines, subtle subdued, seemingly removed, and easily missed.   If I’m engaged and calling out the action then I’m not really watching, it’s participating.  Just on a different level.  People in and of themselves fascinate me and I suspect I’m not the only one watching.

That concludes my original post however I found myself watching in my typical fashion a few nights after the fact.  So as an added bonus…A Night of Voyeurism

I’m sitting in a hotel suite in the middle of a desert.   I’ve not seen my friend in a few years and they are due to arrive in the next 30 minutes or so.   I’m in my usual uniform, a suit, black shoes, and my omni present phones. Ironically I had written the post above and didn’t publish it before leaving on my travels this week.  At this point I was in the third city in two days.

My friend while very alluring is even in our strange world just a friend.  I don’t even think there is a sexual tension there though we are both shameless flirts at times.  It’s playful, fun, harmless, and not going to go anywhere.   The phone buzzed and I make my way to the lobby and a few minutes later a high end import comes tearing into the lot like its being chased by the devil.  The valet and doormen look like a mixture of annoyed and terrified; a look that quickly changes when instead of some aging meat head a sexy woman dressed like a mix between a high end hooker and a couture model leaps out of the car.  She is the kind of woman the puts a capital F in MilF.

This is my life. These moments are the ones I like to watch the most.  One’s where people are not aware of being watched, where they are part of the show without even knowing it.   As for my friend L, she knew she was being watched, there is no doubt she is use to it and has made an art form of being noticed.

She likes the attention, even if it’s unspoken.

The Valet asks if she’s checking in, the Bell Man asks if she needs help with any luggage, the door man is holding it open hoping like hell she’ll pass by.  These men are tripping over themselves as the svelte brunette bounces past.  She ignores them, the car engine still running, air conditioning cranked despite the open door, music still playing, I’m greeted with a hug and kiss.  Now I am the one being watched.  

Her arms still around me when I answer out of an obligation to be polite, “I think we’re going out boys, just give us a minute”.   I compliment her, words that border on inappropriate and suggestive.   It’s theater, pure show.   She beams and starts back to the car.   Her ensemble fits perfectly and walks the fine line between perfectly tailored and indiscreet.  I tip the valet because it seemed like the right thing to to.   Sort of like “hey buddy here’s a few bucks for ogling my date. And thanks for not drooling in her car.”  OK I have no idea why I tipped him. Five bucks gone woosh all for staring at a beautiful woman and closing her door.  

Moments later we were screaming down the highway, an hour earlier I was sitting in a hot tub trying to forget my less than stellar day until that point, debating cancelling and just having more coffee for dinner. As the developments, businesses and open spaces passed by we talked, but just a little.  Her chorus was “You look tired”.   A very similar refrain to what J had told me over dinner a week earlier.  Eventually we pulled up to some place that was overrun with people.   Ahh always part of the in crowd L graced the valets with her beauty and we made our way inside eventually settling at a small high boy at a packed bar.  We talked a little more and if you had been watching us you’d have found me sipping a diet coke and her a wine.  

I watched as people watched her, it was a mix of a catholic mass meets aerobics class.   Oh the chair, off the chair, walking a little left and a little right, then seated again, spinning, twisting, and then standing again.   Eventually observing her visiting with a few folks she knew from some place or another.  A wave, a smile, the occasional hug or kiss, a short sprint to the lobby.   I was just window dressing, a reason to be there.   Some had similar style to hers, others who looked like they should have been ministers at conservative Christian churches.  Then again I was rocking my uptight banker look so guessing could be wrong.

After her glass of wine, a few more diet’s for me and a few introductions we left.   Night was in full effect and I needed to eat.  As we ate at the dizzy lizard or some similarly ridiculously named place I watched the room, I watched her.   I listened and smiled.  Just happy to be there.  

Eventually the evening wore on, the words had all been said and we were roaring back down the highway, taking the surface streets a bit too fast, racing past the illuminated palm trees and back to my hotel.   I could see the boys watching from the doors as well pulled up.   I leaned across hugged her and got out.   Sadly all that watching they had done ended uneventfully with only me to look at as her tail lights sped back down the road.

Kink of the Week