Peeping and some

HUEBERT's PERSPECTIVE

Family Background:

You are a 38-year-old upper-middle-class Caucasian male. You grew up in a strict family household and never felt accepted. Your father was an accountant, so you became an accountant to please him, but he still doesn't respect you. You have always been picked on and never have been admired by others. You married the first women would sleep with you and after 15 years of her abusing you mentally and physically, you finally got the guts to divorce her.

Background:

Your divorce is now 7 months finalized, and you regret parting. You are lonely and spend most of your time and money on porn sites, feeling sorry for yourself. You live in a small house in Maspeth Queens and follow a mundane schedule. Your only excitement is "Masturbation Time" through a series of paid subscription sites.

Today:

Today begins mundane. It's 10am, and you just woke up. You are on your porch wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt, drinking a terrible homemade coffee when you see a sexy young Asian chick struggling to carry a piece of furniture towards you. You can see the wood pressing against her breasts giving me a clear idea of what it would feel to squeeze those luscious tiny tits.

You walk over to help, hoping to get a smell of her, closer look, and maybe sneak a glimpse of her tits or ass. "Hi I'm Huebert, let me help you carry that miss." You say as you grab her nightstand. You're pleased that she quickly hands it to you, knowing you can use her compliance later today when you masturbate to this hot your Asian. As she heads in front of you, you notice she turns to the house next to you. She must be your new next-door neighbor. You get a good look at her ass as she walks and begin imagining bending her over and fucking her. Thankfully, the furniture is covering your front because you're pretty sure you're getting hard. You think of unsexual stuff to stop the growth.

For the next hour or two, you continue to help her. You learn she is named Jennifer but goes by Jenn. She's half Asian-half Korean. Grew up on Long Island, is a teacher and just moved here alone. While moving the boxes, you see one labeled "under garments". You reach for that box, but Jennifer quickly grabs it in front of you. You take note of that box. If it has panties, I'm sure she'll never notice if one is gone, and you would love to jerk off into them. The rest of the stuff was either boxes of clothing or small accessory stuff (stair stepper, home massage stand, painter's pallet etc.)

When all the work is done, we bring in the final small 2-person couch. You notice she's about to sit. You quickly sit next to her, hoping to rub your legs and arm against her skin, brush hips and glance down her shirt. You and Jenn chuckle as you sit, and you are able to get a good view of her young, soft, subtle breasts. You peek a second longer, hoping to see a nipple, but notice her eyes on you and quickly adjust to make eye contact. You know that all this material will allow you to have at least 3 back-to-back cum sessions, but the icing on the cake is still at reach.

Seconds later, Jenn goes to the bathroom. This is your opportunity. you quickly rush to the undergarments box, reach inside and shuffle through. You do so for what seems like 1 minute before you find a tiny pair of white panties and a small thong. You shove it in your pocket and head back to the couch. Like in the movie, you return just in time to get away with it. You see her glance at the box and hope she doesn't notice it's been tampered with.

JENNY'S PERSPECTIVE

Family Background:

I'm Asian American with a petite stature, a relatively curvy figure for 95 lbs., thick hair, and a cute smile. I've never had a problem attracting both boys and men.

I was born in America. My parents immigrated to the U.S. in 1999 and have always gravitated toward their traditional Asian roots. My mother was 15 when she married my father, who was 48 at the time. She had long, dark hair, like I do now, and was thin yet exceptionally curvy for an Asian woman—a figure I inherited.

She was very submissive, always wearing short, provocative outfits picked out and purchased by my father. Every day, she would cook and clean from dawn until dusk, all to please my demanding father. Despite his anger, she always dolled herself up with perfect lipstick and nails and did everything she could to please him.

Like my mother, I appreciate the attention I receive from men. I am curvier than most Asian women but far from thick. I'm 5'1" and weigh 95 lbs. My wardrobe consists of dresses, miniskirts, and tight pants. My tops are mostly crop tops, where my breasts are pushed together to appear bigger, despite struggling to fill a B cup. Fortunately, my tits are perky and soft, which makes up for the lack of volume a bit (or so I tell myself).

Background:

I graduated from college two years ago and moved right back into my family home in Commack, NY (Long Island). I spent the next two years following my parents' strict Asian rules while beginning my teaching career in Queens, NYC.

After saving up for two grueling years, I finally had enough for the security deposit, first month's rent, and two additional months of rent for my first home.

It wasn't much, but my tiny, quaint $2,100-a-month home was perfect for me. In Maspeth, Queens, all the houses are built about three feet apart, so having close neighbors is something everyone here is used to.

Today:

I am beyond excited to move in today. Prepared for an intense day of hard work, I decided on sneakers, small sweatpants, and a loose-fitting tank top. I didn't want to deal with the fidgeting and discomfort of a bra today, so I opted out.

I rented a huge U-Haul, packed it with all my belongings by myself, and ventured out on the 45-minute drive to my first home in Maspeth.

As I arrive at my new home, I circle the block four or five times before finally finding a parking spot on the side of the road, two blocks away.

I jimmy my corner nightstand out of the back of the U-Haul and begin my journey toward the house. Struggling with each step, I'm thankful when a middle-aged stranger approaches and offers to help me move in.

While far from a looker, he seems very kind. He takes the nightstand from me and follows behind as I fumble through my keys and open the door.

Even though he's behind me, I have an awkward feeling that he's analyzing my butt and bare back, sexualizing me. I brush it off and show him where he can set down my nightstand.

I thank him for his help and assure him I can manage the rest myself, but he insists on helping me unload. While I'm not one to ask for help, this two-block walk with all my stuff would take all day. I reluctantly agree, knowing I am indebted to this kind man and need to find a way to return the favor.

Over the next two hours, we continue making several trips, chatting as we unload.

He's a 38-year-old divorced accountant with no children. He apparently goes to the gym (it doesn't show) and likes anime.

The final item is the loveseat. The second it's put down, we both simultaneously sit on it and exhale from exhaustion. We chuckle, and he responds, "Great minds think alike."

I look into his eyes and notice what appears to be him looking directly down my shirt. Without a bra on, he could potentially see my nipples. He quickly makes eye contact and continues laughing like nothing happened.

I'm sure I'm just overthinking this, so I move right along. I excuse myself to use the bathroom and step away for a moment.

About two minutes later, I return and notice that the tape on my clothing box has come undone in the center, and the box appears to be indented.

I know that box was intact when we came in because I carried my lingerie box inside myself.

I'm, like, 95% sure he touched it.

How do I respond to my underwear box discrepancy?

a) Don't address the box, even though I'm almost positive he went through it.

b) Accept whatever he saw or stole. I owe him anyway.

c) Mention that the box looks different from how it did when I left. Wait for his response.

d) Second-guess myself and question whether the box could have opened during the move without me noticing.

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