1 comments/ 40972 views/ 0 favorites County Fair Voyeur Ch. 01 By: thegarry Note: This story brings back many memories of my growing up... Please let me know what you think. I had graduated high school a couple of months earlier. I was eighteen years old and it was August. In a month I'd be attending college in California. But, as I had done since my Dad had died several years ago, I would fly to Columbus, Ohio and visit my grandmother for a month in the summer. Grandma had a sister that lived up north. My great-aunt Ruth. My great-uncle drove down and picked us up to stay with them for a week. I always looked forward to it because they lived in the country and raised animals and grew their own vegetables. The week we visited was the start of the county fair. We all got into his Ford Galaxy. I still remember the long bench seats and how big it was. Seat belts? This was 1966. We drove through the dusty parking lot and rode the tractor pulled trailers to the main gate. It was early yet, so we walked around the commercial booths and garden exhibits. By lunch, it was time for them to get seated in the grandstands for the afternoon of horse racing. I enjoyed the first couple of races, but told them I'd like to walk around the fair. They told me not to spend all of my money on the first day and to meet them back at the grandstands by 4pm. A county fair has a certain smell. The mixture of dust, fried food, hay and manure. It was summer in Ohio, so it was hot and humid. I played some games and remember throwing a ring around the neck of a bottle of Pepsi. They popped open a bottle of Pepsi and handed it to me and I sipped at the bottle as I walked. Never mind it was warm. I went back to the livestock exhibits and walked out a side exit. The path out to the main walkway was bordered by a big tent on my left and the cinder block wall of the livestock building on my right. Inside the tent I could hear girls giggling. I peaked in at one of the eyelets where the seams of the side panels were roped together to form the tent wall and couldn't believe my eye. Inside was the changing room for the stage shows. This show was for the local college marching band. I looked around and realized I couldn't just stand there and peak in to the tent. I walked a little further to the end of the wall and turned the corner. I saw that there was a side panel that was finished off and didn't have any eyelets. It was an opening. I walked up to it and pulled it open a half inch and peaked inside. Inside, there had been installed another canvas panel, probably so people wouldn't just walk into the changing room. Well, with the outer tent and wall and the inner canvas panel, it created a space I could step into and not be seen from the outside or inside. I slipped inside and searched for a way to see through the canvas panel. Fortunately, there was a pencil eraser sized rip in the canvas. It was perfectly located, about four feet off of he ground. I stooped a little and peeped inside. There, all around, were girls in various stages of changing their clothes into their marching band uniforms. Girls with panties and bra only, their shirts undone, unzipping their pants, zipping their pants, sitting on the ground tying their shoes and talking. Talking, talking, talking. They would never see me because they were so busy changing and talking. I was amazed. Aside from seeing my mom naked and looking down the blouse of my step-sister, I'd never seen a girl naked before let alone taking off their clothes. And there were so many. 30 maybe 40 or more. I finally focused on one. A beautiful brown haired girl, about average height and weight. Maybe she was 19 or 20. She and a girlfriend had walked near and she had set down her bag and hung up her uniform. Her skin was clear and cream colored. Her eyes were alive with energy and her smile was so sincere. She was wearing a red loose skirt that fell just below the knee and a white blouse. She was standing about five feet from me talking with her friend. She slipped out of her shoes and was unbuttoning her blouse. When she pulled out the bottom of her shirt from her skirt, she turned away from her friend ( I figure, now, out of modesty). She was now facing me and opened her blouse and pulled it off her shoulders. I remember how pretty her bra was. White and all lacey and dainty. Very girly. She was still talking to her friend, sometimes looking over her shoulder. She folder her blouse up and placed it in her bag. She stood back up and before I knew what happened, had reached behind her and undone her bra. With a shrug of her shoulders her bra was in her hands and she was bent back over placing it in her bag. When she would bend over, she would get closer to me, maybe three feet away. I could see her so clearly. I gazed at her breasts as they pointed down to the ground. I remember her nipples. Darker in color than her breast, to be sure, but paler than I had expected based on the nude centerfolds I'd seen in Playboy. She stood back up and I saw her breasts fully. She was not flat, but they were not large; medium sized I say. Her nipples were erect and I marveled at her areolas. How their color faded into the paleness of her white skin. Her breasts were not full, but were the type that had a gentle slope to them like a long distance ski jumping ramp. At the end was her beautiful erect nipple. They looked so soft and swayed at her every move. She wrapped the bra around her waist and looked down, her brown hair falling around her face. Her breasts quaked all the while she was talking and faced away from her girlfriend. She fastened the bra hooks in front of her and then twisted it around. She wriggled it up and put her arms through the straps and in no time had her new bra on. A much simpler bra than the first one. She flicked her hair and laughed about something she was talking about and then unzipped the side of her skirt. She stepped out and folded it into her bag. Her panties were big by todays standard. A light blue, they were very simple cotton panties. When she stood back up she was wearing only her socks, panties and bra. Her body was magnificent. She reached over and pulled the slacks off of the uniform hanger. After zipping up her pants she put her uniform jacket on. It had a built in fake shirt. She slipped her shoes back on and with her girlfriend, walked away, still talking. Other girls were changing, but not as close to me. I wanted to see this girl closer. I peaked out of the tent and saw no one, so left my secret space. I walked around the tent to see the place where the band kept all of their instrument cases. They were putting their horns together and a teacher was yelling for no one to blow into their horn and to keep it quiet. I saw the girl I had spied putting her clarinet together. She had a reed between her lips. I had to speak with her. I walked through the instrument cases until I got to about five feet of her. I looked at her and she was so beautiful. I imagined her breasts and her underclothes under the band uniform. It was like I had x-ray vision. I walked up to her and said, "Excuse me. What school are you with?" She turned to me and removing her reed from between her lips said, "Benjamin Franklin College." "My eleven year old brother was trying to decide on an instrument to learn. Is the clarinet tough?" I wanted the conversation to last a little longer. "A little bit, but with practice..." I couldn't tell you exactly what she said because I kept on imagining her naked under that uniform. I wanted to say, "You have beautiful breasts and nipples. They look so soft. Can I touch one?" But, I just nodded to what she said and said something like "Have a good song" or something stupid like that. I just laughed when she laughed and I got to see that smile directed at me. She was smiling at me. Nervous, I could just turn and walked away. I went in to find a seat for the performance, but half-way through their second song, I had a thought. I bet nobody was in the changing room. I could feel her bra. I could smell her bra. I immediately got up and left the concert arena and walked back toward the changing room. To be continued... County Fair Voyeur Ch. 02 You can find Part 1 of this story under County Fair Voyeur Chapter 1 Where was I… I had left the seating area of the arena. I knew I had to be quick, but what I wanted to do wouldn’t take too much time. My goal was to feel the inside of this beautiful clarinetist’s bra. I wanted to touch the portion of the bra that held and supported her beautiful breasts and nipples. I can’t tell you how nervous and excited I was. I walked out of the building and looked at the entrance to the changing tent. People were milling about, but no “guards” were posted. I was running through my brain searching for an excuse why I should be in the tent in case I was asked. At the same time, I was hoping to slip in and slip out. I walked through the empty instrument cases and pulled back the opening flap of the tent. There appeared to be no one inside and it seemed darker than I remembered. I didn’t pause or look around before I entered because I was fearful the indecision would give me away. I stepped inside the tent allowing the flap to close behind me. I stood there for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the dimmer light. The band was playing in the background. As I looked around, I saw all of the open bags the girls had brought to use for their change of clothes. The side panels of the tent were all cinched down, so it looked like this was the only entrance and exit. I looked across the tent to the area I had been hiding behind and started to walk in that direction. I had walked about half way there when some light entered the tent and I heard a voice. “Excuse me. Should you be in here?” A woman had opened the flap to the tent and asked the question. I turned and said, “Well. My sister motioned to me from the band stage that she forgot her glasses. She has a solo in the last number and I think she needs them. I just need to find her bag.” “Hurry up, then. They’re finishing this one and are only playing four songs,” she yelled back at me. “Okay. I’m hurrying as fast as I can. I’ll be out in a jiffy.” I said. With that, she closed the flap and I was alone again. My heart was racing 200 beats a minute and felt as if it had relocated to my throat, but I was alone. I reached my destination and dropped down to one knee in front of her bag and opened it up. Her skirt lay on top and I moved it aside. There it was. Her beautiful lace bra. Nicely folded, the cups were stacked within each other. I looked back at the entrance. All was clear. I felt the fabric of the bra, both inside and out. What a rush this was. Feeling the coarseness of the outer lacy material and the smooth softness of the inner material. After looking back again, I pulled the bra out of the bag in its folded state and brought it to my face. I took a deep smell. Whatever perfume she wore was so delicate. To this day sometimes I will walk past a cosmetic counter and it brings back this moment to me. The inside material touched my nose. I kissed it. I touched it with the tip of my tongue. Another deep inhale through my nose. It was still all clear behind me. My back was to the entrance. Without another thought, I jammed my right hand holding her bra down the front of my pants until I felt my penis and balls brushing against the soft inner material of her bra. I wrapped it around the head of my penis and then withdrew my hand just as fast. Quickly dropping back to one knee and placing the bra inside her bag (so as to hide it should someone enter), I inspected it. No pubic hairs, no apparent spots or anything. Only I knew where the right cup of her bra had been. I carefully placed it in her bag and as I did so, I saw an envelope in the bag. I moved aside the clothing and saw it was hand addressed to Lori something (I forget her last name). I now had a name for my clarinetist. I carefully replaced everything in her bag and slid her skirt back over the top of her bra. I adjusted the top of the bag to look just about as open as I had found it. Then I started back towards the entrance, desperately looking around for a pair of eyeglasses. I spotted an eyeglass case and opened it. No eyeglasses inside. A quick look around found me nothing better, so I left the tent holding the empty case. I had hoped to exit and head back around to my secret spot, but when I emerged from the tent, I paused for a moment to let my eyes adjust. I looked to my left (my preferred easy escape) and then to my right. I then saw the lady who had spoken to me in the tent. She was standing outside of the concert arena watching the concert from down the aisleway. Resigned to have to see this through, I walked over to her and quickly past her into the arena while holding the eyeglass case. As I did so, she said, “Hurry. They’re just about done,” referring to their third song of three. I walked into the arena and quickly turned right to get out of the aisle of her vision. I walked along the far right side wall towards the stage. I was afraid the woman was still watching me as I delivered the glasses, so I figured it best to walk down to the stage to act as if I was delivering the glasses to my sister. The stage was just platforms set upon the floor, so I walked around to the back of the band by the drum section. As I did so, the band ended its third number and the audience applauded. I paused for a moment, unseen by anyone at this point, and placed the eyeglass case on a trombone case. Then, as a proud brother that had done a good deed, I left via the side door. The side door took me outside the arena on the opposite side from the changing tent. I looked behind the stage area to my left, but the whole area was fenced off. I could go straight back up to the front of the arena, but I would have been confronted again by the guard lady, so I opted to walk straight away, although it was in the opposite direction of the tent. I had to figure out how to get back over to the tent without being seen by this woman. I wanted to be there when she got out of her uniform. Chapter 3 Unfortunately, there was no easy way back to this tent. I’d have to draw you a map to fully understand, but I had to walk around the horse track and cut through the carnival rides (midway for you mid-westerners) to get back over to the right side of the tent. It took forever and as I approached the tent I could hear talking already. I figured that by the time I got there, she will have already changed. I found the overlap of the tent, looked around to make sure the coast was clear and slipped between the canvas tent walls again. I stooped over and peaked inside the hole. She, or shall I say Lori, was kneeling by her bag digging through it. She still had her band uniform on and this time was by herself. What luck. She found whatever she was looking for and walked back across the tent and outside. A mind can play some crazy games on you in this situation. I started to wonder if she had come back to her bag and found something I had left or noticed something amiss with her clothing and was now telling the teachers or police about it. Should I dash? I checked for my wallet. No. It was there. I could envision her talking with the police along with the woman at the entrance. Could they read the fingerprints off of the eyeglass case I had laid down? Was a manhunt in progress? Should I leave the fair? Which exit? They’re probably all guarded. Just then, she walked back into the tent and towards her bag. I still thought this might be part of their trap so I would stay in place and not panic and run. She walked up to her bag and started unbuttoning the uniform. Would the police really ask her to strip for me to hold me in place? Wouldn’t she feel scared or at least uncomfortable? I looked at her and she seemed as calm as could be. No fear. No hesitation. I began to relax. She unbuttoned her band jacket and slid it off her shoulders revealing her upper body except for her bra. She kicked off her shoes and unzipped her pants, stepping out of them and folding them neatly. As she reached for the hanger, she wore only her socks, blue panties and bra. She placed the pants on the hanger and then slid the shoulders of the jacket on. She then walked a few paces over to a uniform rack and reached over and hung the complete uniform on it. I gazed at her complete body as she walked back towards me. She kneeled down in front of her bag on one knee as I had done. I had an incredible view of the front crotch of her panties. She searched in her bag for a moment and laid her pretty lacy bra on top. She reached behind and unfastened her simpler bra, and like the first time, with a slight shrug of her shoulders had released her breasts from their keeper. Her breasts were so pretty and looked so soft. Her nipples were not erect but they were such a beautiful shade of flesh. She unfolded her bra and reached behind her back to pass the bra strap to her other hand. With a fastener in each hand, she looked down and fastened the bra in front of her and rotated the fastener around her side to her back until the cups to her bra were under each tit. She put her right arm through the shoulder strap and raised the strap until the cup covered her breast. She then slipped her left arm through the shoulder strap and did the same. A little adjustment was made and her bra was on. I looked at her right breast (to my left as I faced her) and had the very satisfied thought that some cell of my penis or balls were rubbing against her skin. Indirectly, I was fondling her breast and nipple. It was an incredible feeling. Then, to my total surprise, she moved aside the fabric of her panties covering her crotch and slid her middle finger inside or at least over her pussy. I say this with some uncertainty because for one I was shocked and surprised. Also, I didn’t have the best view of her in this one knee down position. Thirdly, she had a pretty good bush down there and her finger just kind of disappeared. I’d like to think she slid it inside of her, but she may have just run it over her pussy. I hadn’t thought that I might see her bush. Her pubic hair was as brown as the hair on her head and there was quite a bit there. Right after this one stroke, she slid her panties back over and stood up, pulling her skirt out of the bag as she rose. I guess she figured that while she was down in that position, nobody could see what she did so quickly. She stepped into her skirt and zipped it up. She bent down and pulled her blouse out of the bag and put it on. With each button, more and more of her skin was disappearing from view. She slipped on her shoes and knelt down to arrange the contents of her bag. If the hole in the canvas was a bit lower, I would have had a great view up her skirt. I dared not move, though, afraid I might change some shadow, make some noise or otherwise disclose my presence somehow. Today had been a home run and I have never been greedy in a peeping situation. She applied some make-up in this kneeling position, but she soon stood up and gathered her bag and purse and walked toward the tent entrance. I debated approaching her once more, because I wanted her to smile at me again, but I decided it best not to. Too much risk of drawing attention or running into the guard lady again. I looked around and saw other co-eds in various stages of changing, but they were all too far away to see anything too revealing. I decided to leave my secret spot. I went back to the County Fair a couple of more times with my great-aunt and great-uncle that year. On one evening, there was going to be a college cheerleader/spirit squad competition, but no matter how much I begged, my great-uncle needed to get home before five o’clock to take care of his chores. When we got home, his “chore” was watching the Merv Griffin Show. I have often fantasized about the things I could have seen that night. In my mind, I thought about how to be sure one of the cheerleaders changed near my secret spot. I thought I could win a few bottles of Pepsi and squirt them around the lawn area under the tent so that the only dry place would be over by my secret spot. I’d leave the bottles littered on the ground so they would know what it was under their feet. But alas, it was not to be. In all, I was never lucky enough to see anything again through the hole in the canvas tent panel. But the few times I did go back and check, I always saw the faint naked ghostly breasts and smile of my brunette clarinet player, Lori. Epilogue All was not lost at my great-uncle’s house that summer week in 1966. Out in the country, the neighbors have no fences and the girl two houses down didn’t always get her shades completely closed at night. After confirming no dog was penned up there, I went out for a walk around nine o’clock that night, ostensibly to catch some fireflies. While she wasn’t as pretty as Lori, she was far from ugly. We’ll save this for another time.