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I have always had strong voyeuristic tendencies. Even as a small boy I delighted in peering from my bedroom window at the house next door and the window of the teenaged girl (who was much, much older than I) who lived there as she undressed getting ready for bed. The surges of excitement that ran through me then were confusing but far from troublesome.

As I grew older and entered my teens as an excuse to get out at night I would take the family dog for a walk and go down alleys in the suburban area where I lived. I would pause at houses where I knew there were attractive women living in the hopes that I might get a glimpse of them in a lighted window. I often saw them organizing clothes, doing housework or some such mundane thing. Although my hopes of seeing them undressing were never realised just the sight of them going about their business not knowing I was watching was exciting for me and it would invariably leave me with a pounding heart and an aching erection. Viewing partially dressed or naked women in a lighted window again, as I had in my earlier childhood, seemed to be an unreachable goal but I knew the fault was mine as I was never brave enough to actually enter yards and get close to windows in order to peer through gaps in curtains or not-completely- closed venetian blinds.

Many years have passed and I now live with my wife in a forest interface area of properties around five acres in size. My wife holds down a job in town about twenty minutes away and I work out of my home. We have a ...

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