The Man With Binoculars In His Hands

It didn’t begin in my backyard. All of this began many years ago. It began when I stole my first pornography magazine at the age of 12 while visiting grandparents in Philadelphia.

Maybe it began before that. Maybe it began at the age of 4 when I woke in the middle of the night and saw my parents having a sex party in the wood hot tub in their backyard. It interests me how things seem to come full circle.

Backyards. Now that I think of it, backyards are the best place for this sort of thing. In a backyard you can have the privacy to do what you want as long as neighbors can not see in. Backyards are one of the final frontiers for places where one can not be spied on or seen.

Any great terrorist plot in the future will be devised in a backyard. But my exploits did not always take place in a backyard with a pair of binoculars in my hand. It was not always this easy.

I used to have to drive around for hours to find the perfect prostitute. And often I would not find her. When I did I would have to risk being captured by the police. Or I would have to go into strip clubs to find my pornographic bliss. But this was expensive and often a far commute from my urban home. Now that I live in the suburbs I have had to find other means.

As a renown psychologist I can not afford to go into the local strip clubs to find my pornographic bliss. Before when I was a nobody it was easier to remain obscure. Not any more. I am often perceived as only half of the man I really am. I can’t afford to have this half be seen. I would rather keep things in my backyard.

Now that I have a large backyard I decided that I mine as well put it to use. I have an attractive wife and an attractive girlfriend who are both willing to join me in my pornographic and perverted exploits.

I have never been a fan of sports. Too many people watching and interested in the same thing. This creates a kind of herd mentality. But I see the appeal of spectator sports. In today’s world of mass conformity it is up to each one of us to create our own unique form of a spectator sport. For me it happens to be watching my wife and girlfriend have sex with other men through binoculars while standing in my backyard.

There is a large window in my home’s front room. In this front room is a large and comfortable couch. At night I can stand in my backyard and look through binoculars into the front room. With lights on in the room it is impossible for those inside to see me standing outside. My girlfriend and wife know that I am watching, but the men they have met on Tinder have no idea. There are few greater pleasures in life than doing this.

I try to engage in this unique spectator sport at least once or twice a week. My wife will do it once and my girlfriend will do it once. Both seem to get off on knowing that I am watching and I will get off on watching them. I will stand under the dark midnight sky and with my hoodie over my head and my pants down, I will watch the show through my binoculars. What a thrill to be watching something you are not supposed to be watching! I will hear dogs barking in the distance and radio frequencies making their way through the sky. I am a man at peace. Fully turned on and fully in the moment. Isn’t this the point of any great spectator sport?

Sometimes I will try to get too close to the window and worry about being seen. The closer I am, the better my orgasm is (another great thing about doing this in your backyard is the ability to ejaculate wherever you want). The reason I call this a spectator sport is because there is that element of risk in trying not to be seen or caught while also finding the act of observation relaxing and thrilling.

When I am standing in my backyard watching my wife or girlfriend have sex with another man I will think nothing is better than this. I will feel proud of myself for not giving into the banal and conformist effects of living in a suburb. I will feel like I am subverting some huge force that tries to desexualize and marginalize all those who live in the suburbs. I will feel like the deviant that I want to be.

Successful psychologist by day and deviant backyard binocular man by night. This feels good to me. And if one does not find successful forms of having deviant fun while living in the suburbs, the suburbs will strangle you.

I’ve been able to learn a lot about the sexual habits of men. It is interesting to observe younger men and men in mid-age having sex. They all have different styles and the beauty and sexual skillfulness of my wife and girlfriend makes them all feel thrilled to be having the opportunity in a day and age when everything has become so sexually represive for men. I feel bad for men living in todays sexual climate and as a result am happy to share my slutty wife and girlfriend with some of them.

Sometimes I wonder if the suburbs have driven myself, my wife and my girlfriend mad. Are we doing what we are doing because of the stifling and suffocating effects of living in a suburb? Would we be behaving differently if we lived in a less conservative environment? Maybe we would have more fulfilling things to do with our time? But then I remember looking through my bedroom window and seeing my parents having a sex party in their backyard hot tub and I will be reminded that I was destined to be a man standing in his backyard at night with binoculars in his hands.

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