Date: Mon, 6 Apr 2015 15:04:14 +0000 (UTC)
From: - - <mike.99999@yahoo.com>
Subject: Peeking at Teacher/Coach

This was in high school. One of my teachers was young and hot. He went
there, was a hot shot wrestling champ, and now taught social studies and
coached the wrestling team.

At the time, I was going out and getting naked. It was my thing. Sometimes
I'd streak through someplace with everything on view except my face, which
I kept covered with a baseball cap. Sometimes, I'd go out by the highway
and wait for a big rig to come by and be strolling down the road in just
tighty whities, waving hello.

Anyway, on one of my evening walks, I cut through some woods and was behind
a house when I noticed a guy inside with his shirt off. I wasn't really a
peeping tom, but the opportunity popped up. I got closer, and saw that he
was just in his underwear, hanging around the house. Nobody else was
home. He had the TV on.

I recognized him. It was that hot teacher. His body was even better than I
thought. I had gone to wrestling meets and stared at him sitting there in
tight pants and a shirt and tie. His muscles strained the fabric and clung
tight to his body. I watched him slap guys on the butt. Now he was here in
front of me and on full display.

I got right up next to his window and just watched him for a minute. I
could even see his bulge against his underwear. Then I went back to the
treeline. I watched from there.

He had dark hair and was young looking. He had big, broad muscles and a
skinny waist, a tight little bubble butt, big thighs, and he had those abs
that wrestlers gets, very smooth and natural but tight and defined if
they're flexed, not for showing off but for wrestling.

I watched him through his window for a couple minutes, and then I felt like
taking my clothes off.

It was a hot night, and I was just wearing a T-shirt and shorts. I pulled
my shirt off and set it on the grass by a tree. I slid my hand along my
smooth chest while watching my teacher's hairy chest. Then I took a hold of
my waistband and slid my shorts down.

I love the feeling of having my shorts or pants around my ankles or of
having my butt out or of having all my clothes on but my dick poked out of
my fly to piss. The act of undressing is really hot for me.

I touched my bulge while watching his. I wanted him to touch his at the
same time. The sensation of being in just my underwear was so hot. I felt
myself kicking my shorts to the side and walking across his lawn. I was
going to get right up close to his house.

I went up to his window. He was sitting and watching TV. It was like I was
over his shoulder. It was so hot. I was invisible and had X-ray vision.

After a couple minutes of staring, I ran over to the next window. I was
hoping he wouldn't see me, but kind of hoping he would. This was the
riskiest I had ever been. If a truck had ever stopped, I could have just
run back into the woods, unless I wanted to just stand there or wait or get
picked up.

Anyway, I accidentally bumped into his bike.

There was a loud noise, and he opened the door in a flash. There I was,
exposed. There HE was, exposed. He didn't seem to mind. He recognized me
from class. He asked what I was doing. I froze. I tried to cover myself. I
thought about running off.

"Oh, I think I know what happened," he said. "Some guys gave you a dare and
then stole your clothes?"

I looked and thought and nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah. I'm just trying to get
home without anybody seeing me."

"Come on in here and let me get you something."

I walked into his house, and we were both in just underwear. I actually
thought I was dreaming for the first time in my life. They say that on TV
and stuff, but until you're really in a situation that weird and
unbelievable, you don't know what they mean. I was tracing my steps back to
how I got there.

"I know how guys can be. You gotta watch out."

I found him putting on a robe. Who has a robe? He looked like Ward
Cleaver. I felt like I was going to get a punishment. I tried to cover
myself more.

"Here, see if these fit," he said, tossing me an old shirt and shorts. I
picked them up and slid them on. They were kind of loose. I pulled the
waistband drawstring tighter.

He asked me if I was alright and if I wanted some water or a ride home. I
told him I was fine and thanks and it wasn't far to get home and I'd just
walk.

I left. I grabbed my clothes on the way. I cut through the woods and jolted
up to my room.



The next day, in Social Studies class, I just stared at him, picturing him
in his underwear, picturing him out of his underwear, wondering if he ever
showers in the locker rooms at school.

He was walking around the room, handing back graded papers. His pants were
tight as usual, and as he passed by my desk I could see the line of his
underwear against his butt. I had noticed it before, but now I was
intimately associated with it. I was an expert in his ass. I wanted to
reach out and touch it.

Class ended, and I was just going to leave, but then I lagged behind so I
could go up to his desk. I hesitantly started a conversation with him.

"Uh, thanks again. I'll bring you back those clothes tonight," I said. What
the hell was I saying? He'd probably think that was super weird.

"Okay, maybe around 8?" he replied.

I was kind of shocked. I nodded. I turned. I slowly walked out.





That night, I cut through the woods to his back yard again. I had the
clothes he lent me. I got there and looked through his window again, from
back by the trees.

You wouldn't believe it, but he was in just his underwear again!

I just hung out for a bit, watching more. I wanted to get completely naked
and just walk through the door. I wanted to just set up camp and go get
binoculars. He was expecting me, right? But he was just hanging out in his
underwear.

I thought about him hanging out in a locker room with 20 other guys,
getting dressed and undressed. I thought about how guys I knew must have
been naked in front of him in the locker room at some point, before a
wrestling meet.

I thought about going to the front door, but hell no!

I walked along the side of his house, slowly peering into the window,
pausing for a bit and enjoying the view. Then I knocked on his back door.

He opened it, still in just his underwear, tight, white briefs, with his
bulge underneath and a line of hair trailing up to his chest. His legs
weren't very hairy. Then I realized I was just standing there and looking
him up and down.

I probably blushed. I held out the clothes. He took them and held them.

"You got home alright then?" I nodded yes. "And did you get your clothes
back?" I stood there motionless. "From the guys that ran off with them?" I
remembered. I nodded yes. "Well, glad I could help. Do you go through the
woods back there a lot?"

"uh, yeah, there's a path back there, and you can just cut through a yard."

"You and your friends?"

"Oh, uh, no, usually just me. I don't think a lot of people go back there
much."

"Right, okay, well thanks for returning these. You really didn't have to
worry about it."

"Oh, well, thanks." And then he nodded, and I turned around and walked
away, and he closed the door.

I got back to where I had been standing before. I stood there, kind of
behind a tree, and I kept watching him through the window. He didn't put on
a robe. He didn't close the shade. He just walked around the room in his
underwear.

Then he pulled down his underwear.

I swear. I was in amazement, but he just stripped off. I could see
everything, well as clearly as possible from that distance. He was
definitely naked. Was he some kind of nudist? Did he know I was watching?
If I did just walk through that door with nothing on, would we just hang
out naked?

I obviously had to get closer. I sneaked around the side of the house
again. I slid along the wall, until I could peek through the window. I
watched him walk over to the fridge and get a beer. I watched him plop down
in a recliner. I could see who was winning the ball game. I could see his
dick flop back and forth. I could see his big balls, and I watched as he
scratched them and give his dick a tug.

It was so hot. I had to get naked. I had to get completely naked. Whatever
you're into, imagine it happening right in front of you. Understand that I
had to go all the way with this and be naked.

I thought about him noticing me, and that just made it hotter. I thought
about somebody walking by, and that just made it hotter.

I pulled my shirt off over my head. I can remember every single moment of
this whole thing and how the fabric of my shirt slid against my skin, that
moment where the shirt was over my head and I couldn't see.

I kicked off my shoes. I slid my shorts down. I slid my underwear down. I
felt my body and watched his.

I watched him stand up and stretch and then turn and bend over a little. I
could swear he was showing off for me.

He sat back down. I felt a breeze against my naked body. I heard somebody's
wind chimes.

Then I watched him pick up his remote and put on a porno. I watched him
watch some guy fuck some chick, and I stared intently as his hand slowly
found its way to his cock.

He yanked on it a few times and then held it in his hand. He slowly pulled
his hand back towards himself, fucking his hand, sliding it in. His other
hand went to his balls and held them.

He stroked slowly, tugging, before starting to jerk faster back and
forth. I let my own dick curl up to me and bob in place. I let it pull on
me. Slowly, I slid my hands down my smooth body, around to my muscular ass,
and then gripped my cock and pulled on my balls.

I was watching him around the corner. I wanted him to want me to watch
him. Maybe he did. Maybe he wouldn't care if I was.

His body tensed up and lifted off his chair. I leaned over and felt a
breeze against my asshole and the back of my balls.

Even with this fantasy in front of me, I still pictured him taking me out
of class and down to the locker rooms, him teaching gym class, me joining
some sport so we could fuck afterwards.

He yanked and shot a load on his stomach. It was so hot. It put me over the
edge, and I was shooting, too. I got most of it in my hand. I didn't want
to stain his wall.

I watched him relax and then quickly hop up to get a paper towel.

For a split second, I thought he saw me outside the window. Hell, maybe he
did. I've thought about it a million times since.

It was never so hot as that night, just watching him and thinking whether
he knew I was there, but I did go back for more, obviously.