A Peeping Tom Encountering People Who Display Themselves
Chennai's summers can be brutal. Most students left for their hometowns, but I remained to work on a research project. The truth is that I didn't want to return home.
I come from the hot state of Rajasthan. It was like choosing between a fiery smithy's forge and boiling hot water.
My social media feed added to my misery. Picture after picture of people having fun in the snowy Himalayan mountains surfaced on my screen. I scrolled quickly to get rid of them, but they kept reappearing. It seemed like everyone I knew or didn't, enjoyed a cool breeze in a hill station.
Lying in my bed, sweat trickling down my forehead, I decided not to spend my last summer in college burning up in my room.
"Sir, my grandmother has passed away, I need to go home urgently," I practiced the line in front of a mirror a few times, testing different emotional tones. My grandmother had passed away a long time ago, but she might still help her grandson. I decided to be serious and plain, without any fake tears.
I entered professor Patil's office and said the line. He didn't respond straight away, and I thought my acting had given it away. But to my surprise, he agreed and even asked me to remain in Chennai for the entire summer break to take care of my parents. I nodded, trying hard not to show my excitement.
I planned to visit the closest hill station to Chennai – Ooty. It was an overnight bus journey, and if I left soon enough, I would be staying in a cozy homestay with a view of the Nilgiris the following day. I hurried to my room to pack my bags. I had some money saved from my pocket money, but it wouldn't be enough for more than a couple of days in a wallet-friendly homestay with basic food and cheap Old Monk. I justified it to myself, considering my situation.
The bus was packed with tourists fleeing the searing heat. I snagged a seat near the back by the window and settled in. My plan was to sleep for the journey's entirety. However, as usual, my plans fell through.
As I leaned in to see the passengers, an old uncle took my seat next to me and helped his wife into another seat. I debated offering my spot to her so they could be together and then discarded the idea when I saw that they were satisfied.
Being a shy introvert from an engineering college and with limited exposure to girls, I had lived out my sex drive in the confines of my college hostel bathrooms. Others in my hostel, enjoying romance on dating apps and in bars, failed to entice me.
Seated in front of me were a young couple: the guy, perhaps older than myself, and the girl, my height. The girl's hair was lush and wavy, her skin glowed, and her eyes were captivating. The uncle glanced at the couple, then at me, noticing the young man's absence.
We maintained eye contact for a few seconds, which quickened my heart rate. My gaze shifted slightly lower to where her beautiful breasts pressed against her blouse.
I turned my head to see if anyone was watching. The bus had dimmed its lights, and everyone was preparing to sleep.
The city's young couples typically visited Ooty, checking into cheap hotels suitable for couples and filling their days with food, liquor, and sex.
Sitting behind me in the seats in front were the girl and the man. He was tall, around 6 feet, and she was closer to my 5-foot height. I pondered their preferred positions for sex, considering the height difference. Maybe she liked to straddle him or the doggy-style would work.
As the bus rolled on and the cool air flowed, my thoughts wandered. My loins began to yearn for physical contact, setting my heart aflutter. I shifted in my seat, staring out the window.
The illumination within the bus reflected my face on the glass, and I peeked at the couple in front to see their reflections. The bus's vivid flowers on the windows made it difficult to make out their faces. Interspersed with their faces was the girl's magnificent profile.
I couldn't help but gaze upon her as she sat so close to me, her boyfriend right there next to her. Her boyfriend, the lucky one.
Suddenly, I noticed a movement on her T-shirt. Initially, I thought it was just the wind creating ripples in the fabric. Then, it resembled a hand. I turned my head to peek at her partner from between the seats, and there he was, reaching under her shirt to caress her breasts.
She shifted closer to the window, trying to avoid being seen from inside the bus. He stopped for a moment, and then she fumbled with her T-shirt to remove her bra. Her bra stole my attention, resting on her lap with one strap sticking out between the seats and facing me. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. Something like this had never happened to me before.
Her boyfriend resumed his fondling, his actions becoming more intense. She had such a perfect pair of breasts—large enough to be seen through her shirt, but small enough to be playfully handled with one hand. I wondered if they would droop or retain their perkiness. Her nipples left stains on her T-shirt, and I couldn't help but fixate on them. I could almost hear her soft moans.
I scooted closer to the front of the seat, inches away from her.
"Aah, Kartik," his hands became more aggressive. He continued to squeeze and knead her breasts while pinching her nipples. Arousal started to fill me, and I found myself staring at the bra strap.
Just when the bus' lights came on, it was time for the mid-journey break. People stirred from their sleep, some using the facilities, others grabbing snacks. The man next to me remained asleep, while I tried to avoid stepping on his legs to get up.
I went to take a leak and noticed the wet stain on my underwear. It was embarrassing, but another part of me wanted to see more. I walked past the smokers and got back on the bus. As I returned, I couldn't help but observe the couple. Sadly, their places had switched. Now, the girl was sitting across from me, and the guy was in front of me.
I studied her face more carefully as the bus' interior had better lighting. Her lips were perfectly shaped and parted slightly when she spoke. Envy coursed through me, how cruel was it that he got to kiss those lips? She was so much better than him.
I rested back in my seat and accepted my fate.
But little did I know...
The quiet sound of something unzipping, someone opening their bag—or so I thought. Then, a bit of rustling and struggling. The seat in front of me reclined fully, almost hitting my face. I had to set my seat back again to make room.
Then, another sound: a quiet moan from the guy.
I turned to look through the gap between the seats. He jacked off under her jacket and she wasn't aware. Sadly, I couldn't see anything but her hips rocking back and forth due to the angle.
I caught a glimpse of her in the window reflection: her gaze out the window, her eyes watery, her lips glistening with drool. The guy ran his hand through her hair.
He lifted his jacket to show his cock.
I'd seen other dicks before, in my hostel dorm. Nothing unusual. However, witnessing one at such close range was something new to me.
He loomed tall and sturdy, noticeably different from me. The dome of his dck was large and round. It was still damp with her saliva and possibly his pre-ejaculate. She plunged her head further into his crotch and cuddled the dck close to her face. It nearly reached her eyes.
The bus jostled from side to side as the roads started winding up the mountain. The sky changed colors to a mix of blue-grey. Morning was approaching.
The boy cradled his d*ck with one hand while turning his girlfriend with the other to line it up with her mouth. She turned to glance back at him and gave him a lick. The lips moved along the head.
I found my own d*ck growing hard. It needed release. I placed one hand on it to calm it down.
The teasing went on for some time. She let him slide in slightly, but quickly withdrew him. She smiled as she played with him, enjoying the torture. Her hands moved on his cheeks, begging him. She bit his finger and chuckled.
The guy tucked her face under a jacket. It obscured my view, but I guessed he had tensed from the seat swaying.
She had sucked him into her mouth and it appeared he hit the mark.
The rocking of the jacket intensified. It became stronger and faster. I began to rub my own crotch, controlling the rhythm. I leaned in closer to hear her gulping sounds, her tongue lapping on his d*ck and making squishy noises.
The man grasped the sides of his seat with one hand and her head with the other. He erupted for a full minute. The world stood still for that duration.
Slowly, he unzipped his pants and removed the jacket. She emerged from under it and immediately fussed with her hair. There was no trace of semen anywhere.
I peered out the window. It was morning. The valleys opened up with every turn, offering a different view. We had arrived at the Nilgiris.
As the sun's rays streamed in and the windows stopped reflecting, there was a surge of activity. Everyone stirred, waking up and collecting their belongings to disembark.
The bus pulled up at the stop and stopped. The couple remained seated, allowing others to disembark before them. The passengers exited and filled the aisles. I stood behind the elderly gentleman and waited for my turn.
As I passed the couple, I glanced back. They were gazing back at me, as though aware of my hidden spectatorship.
Had they detected me watching?
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