Changing Rooms 1

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, or events mentioned are purely coincidental and not meant to get the authors into any trouble.

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It wasn't that different than college, really. Watching people. See what they did when no one was looking. Well, when they thought no one was looking.

Gabriel looked down at the blonde trying desparately to get into the size 8 jeans. Give it up honey he sighed, and moved his attention back to the kids trying to peak under her door. From their vantage point, hidden inside one of the circular clothes rack outside the changing area, they could probably only see about halfway up her calf. From his...well, he could see her whole world. And it was crashing in on her as she realized she was never going to fit into those jeans.

He'd been a watcher all his life. A skinny boy on the playground witnessing the schoolyard fight. The fan in the stands seeing his high school team score and the cheerleaders bounce. It was college that opened his eyes to the power of it, however. Cultural Anthropology with a Sociology minor. All you really had to do was be observant and then communicate what you see. Unfortunately, he had only been adept at one of the two requirements.

The shapely blonde slunk off to lick her wounds and the boys in the rack hunkered down to see if anyone else worth peeping would come along. In many ways, he was proud of them. Spunky little 12-year-olds out to find out about this pre-pubescent sexuality. Still, he'd have to turn them in if they persisted in drawing attention from any passersby. He zoomed in an overhead aisle camera to see them giggling and peering out between satin robes.

He sat back and remembered the good old days. Right out of college, a useless degree in his hand and no demonstrable skills. But he could watch people. For hours and hours, he would watch people. He'd worked at all the big stores... Sears, Penny's, even Montgomery Wards. Initially he just worked floor security, but finally moved up to watching the stalls.

The changing stalls had become a very sought after job among professional voyeurs at that time. Still, there was enormous turnover. Sex crimes background checks, lie detectors, and videoed surveillance rooms ate everyone up. Gabe always assumed there was a camera on him anytime he was watching the stalls. He never beat off, he never took pictures, and he never brought friends in to watch. And he became a local legend in catching lifters. He got to work with all the department and clothing stores at one time or another, and better yet, he got paid to watch people undress.

Some were 'strippers,' really playing it up for themselves in the mirror. Beautiful and ugly alike staring into his eyes unkowingly as they worked their butt or bustline. Some were 'unwilling flashers,' businesslike undressers who changed back and forth so fast you'd think the stall was ten below zero. A few buyers pressed and folded everything back perfectly, neglecting to get dressed for quite a while. And a very few were the kinks, the lovers, and the lifters.

And it was not all about the stripping. Busting the lifters made him feel powerful. Young boys liked to swap their old clothes for new ones, men stuffed their own clothes with items, and women usually bagged it. He began to recognize patterns and predict the buyers from the lifters. The way a woman waited on the attendant to turn her back, or the way a man would look around the stall once inside. It was as if he were an angel, keeping tabs on the sins and ringing them up.

But when technology caught up with him, he had to reevaluate his reasons for his chosen profession. Security strips and cameras had slowly pushed him out of first one, and then all of the major chain stores. Each time he would be offered the security "spy in the sky" job for the floor, but he turned it down. Eventually, he had to admit the truth to himself. The stalls turned him on and he couldn't give them up. Technology, and privacy laws, were pushing him out.

That's why Bussleman's was his last chance. It was the only clothing store in the area that still used a stall security camera. He had jumped at the offer when Mr. Bussleman had called him, hardly noticing the cut in pay. As he saw it, he'd broken even in the deal. He was the only one left, the only stall man hired. And that left him doing it 10 hours a day six days a week for the past three months. And sometimes he'd come in seven days a week. What else did he have to do that compared?

The set up was ingenious really. Regular ceiling surveillance hidden in black bubbles along the changing row. None had a clear direct shot into the stalls which fooled the inspectors. But each had a small mirror that, when positioned just right and zoomed, showed the stalls. One camera relied on a complex arrangement of three mirrors to get a dressing customer fully into view.

The boys had grown tired of the aging women and business men going in and out of the stalls and snuck off. Almost immediately afterward, a cute brunnette in a red mini ducked into number one. Everything she had on was red: socks, underwear, bra. And everything she tried on was red as well. And slinky. That usually meant she would pose a bit, but unfortunately she was a speed changer and even the ground coverage failed to show much. Just another Madonna wannabe with a red fetish, he shrugged.

Gabe had added two cameras of his own design and unknown to anyone else. Both were pinholes with incredible clarity which had cost a pretty penny. They sent images to a receiver he carried in his changing bag, while he kept the remote in his pocket. The two lucky stalls which hid them were the obvious choices, one and six. Stall one was the first changing room and the most used. Stall six was far in the back, and attracted the people who wanted privacy. That was his favorite. If a good candidate came in, just a click on the remote saved the visit for posterity. Or more specifically, for his collection safely hidden at home.

Two teenager girls smacking gum and laughing almost burst in on an unsuspecting middle aged man trying on running shorts. He was mid-step into the second leghole when they ran right into the locked door, flailing and shouting. As soon as they realized their mistake, they ran into an open stall, obviously howling in embarrasment. The man, who just had to be an accountant Gabe surmised, almost died from his embarrasment, having fallen forward sharply and striking his balding head on the side of the mirror. Trying to untangle his feet, check on his bruised forehead, and meanwhile repeating "Occupied!" at the top of his lungs made for an interesting spectacle. Gabe found himself smiling at his job as often as he was aroused.

The girls hid out for a while making sure their balding victim cleared far away before coming out. Apparently in the same sorority, one didn't wear a bra under her lettered sweat shirt and didn't think anything about lifting it in front of her motormouth friend. Not having a pinhole in four, Gabe adjusted the overhead to look at her as she changed. A B-cup barely, but definitely young and perky. Pink, puffy nipples were no longer his cup of tea but these were nonetheless impressive. She even rubbed across them once, but seemed to be oblivious to anything buy the syrupy conversation.

Gabe glanced over to the wide camera, thinking that the peeping boys might be back with all the loud voices emanating from the stalls. Instead, he saw Mrs. Bussleman chatting with the clerk who was reracking clothes. With her back facing toward him, he could not see her face, but he knew her instantly. She was always stunning, but truly a rare treat since she only visited the store on special occasions.

Claudia Bussleman looked about 20 years younger than her husband, but matched his friendly demeaner. He had only met her twice, and both times he found himself stumbling for words. She had an incredibly beautiful face, one of those profiles that screamed former Miss Junior Cotton Festival. But she hid her age well with shoulder-cropped dark hair and dark glasses. Perpetually smiling, she always seemed to touch the person in front of her during conversation, as if she could listen more intently while absorbing you though her fingers. Gabe still shivered when he thought of her handshake.

As he watched her in front of the stalls, engaged in a lively chat with Bernice, he recognized her outfit even from the back. On several occasions he had forgotten the stalls and trailed her through the store and had now seen it from every angle, a $1200 business skirt and jacket. He couldn't recall the designer, but he new the design, for he had dreamed about it many times. Well-cut formal jacket that was so blue it almost looked velvet, hiding a white low-cut blouse that rose and fell as her bosom moved. Any male within twenty feet of her stared directly at her cleavage as she talked, hoping that any one of her gesticulations would reveal a little more of her gorgeous shape. Her skirt never rode up her thigh and he had never gotten a full look at her long legs. But her calf emptied into her high-heel in such a way as to suggest that her legs were worth the price of upkeep.

Suddenly, Mrs. Bussleman headed back through the stalls, confidently striding to the two co-eds still hidden in their stall. Gabe had never seen her in the stall area and smiled as he anticipated her stopping to knock on their door to hush them up in her own sweet way. But she traveled past the door and opened the door to number six.

Instantly, the smile faded from Gabe's lips. His eyes intent on one screen in front of him, he managed to do three things at once: converge two overhead cameras on the sixth stall from above, click on the ground camera to begin taping, and begin a silent chant of "Oh please, Oh please, Oh please." As she secured the door behind her, he saw her face for the first time. And she was smiling.

In his dark room, Gabriel stared down as he zoomed the monitors, the quiet glow of light on his face as he gazed at her. He watched intently for that little look... there. He saw it again. Unmistakable this time, he saw her look right at the nearest overhead camera and smile. That meant she knew the angles, the mirrors. And that meant she knew he could see her. She was inviting him to watch her and he was afraid his heart might explode before he was able to comply.

Mrs. Bussleman put something on the hook and looked at herself in the mirror. From camera two, Gabe saw a silk slip on a hanger. This could be the jackpot. He watched her hands reach up to pull her lapels open to her shoulders. Her jacket slipped down her arms and was hung on the hook beside her. Her blouse had slipped over one shoulder and she did nothing to pull it back up. He leaned forward and zoomed closer from one. Holy shit, he said out loud, there were her nipples. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath. Zooming in further to see the outline of her breasts, he made out their shape well enough to know that they were raised and taught against the cloth.

He was aware of his growing erection but resisted the urge to rub up against the desk to soothe his desire. Besides, it was difficult keeping a close up focused on her moving body while glancing back to her profile in camera two. She was unzipping her skirt now and doing it agonizingly slowly. God, she was cool, unhurried in any movement and never wasting a motion. She hooked her thumbs into the top of her skirt and slowly pushed it down her legs, finally bowing before the mirror. He wished he could see the ground view he thought, as he manipulated the view on the monitor. She stepped out of her skirt and proceeded to fold it across another hanger. After she was done, she stretched out one leg and placed her high-heeled shoe on the changing bench in front of her. Leaning over, she adjusted the strap, but did not take either shoe off.

Gabe moved the lens over her long leg and up to the back of her thigh. The wrinkled bottom of her blouse prevented him from seeing higher, but he was fascinated with her poise. Somehow, she was bending over and looking back at herself in the wall mirror and somehow making it look classy. As she straighted, back still turned toward the mirror, she tensed her buttocks and wiggled a bit. Erection still growing, Gabriel found himself smiling again. She put her legs together and lifted the back of her blouse up just enough for her to see her ass underneath. From his camera angles, he couldn't see underneath, but thought he saw a wisp of black under there as she admired her backside.

Letting her blouse go, she ran one hand through her tumbling hair and turned to face the image in the mirror. With one hand she lifted the front of her blouse up to her stomach and ran her other hand down to adjust a pair of black thong panties. Gabe watched intently as her fingertips slipped quickly underneath the cloth and then slowly slid up the edge to the hip. She was looking down at her hand on its spectacular journey, when she rolled her head back with eyes closed and reached up to pull her blouse over her head.

Before he could remember to thank God, Gabe was staring at the topless woman of his dreams. She stood looking innocently at herself in the mirror for a moment, before simply dropping her blouse. She leaned her head over to one side and looked closely at her image. She had perfect breasts, voluptuous and pear shaped with beautiful tanned nipples hardening over each mound. Her arms moved forward, pressing her cleavage together and then apart again. Crossing her body, one hand cupped under a breast and then circled it slowly moving ever inward to the nipple. And then pinching slightly, she held the nipple for the briefest of times before letting go. All the while she stared at herself as if watching a twin.

Gabriel's cock was now straining as he leaned forward to the edge of the desk. Without thinking, he was soon rubbing against the wood as he watched her lick first one and then the other index finger and tease her breasts again. She stood almost absent-mindedly circling her nipples slowly with a wistful look on her face, as if imagining herself somewhere else. Eventually one hand trailed down to the band of her underwear and caressed it for a second. He guided the close-up to see her hand lay flat against her stomach and slip downward into her sexy black cloth. The fingers didn't travel far before stopping and then they started to move almost imperceptively inside the narrow thong. He saw her mouth slip open then and let out a small sigh as she closed her eyes once again.

She stood with arm cradling one breast and touching herself for mere seconds, but he had never seen anything more beautiful. Suddenly the image was blurry and he looked back up to see that she had turned around to bend over her small purse lying on the bench. He focused in on her revealed ass hiding the thong stap from the rear and caught the outline of her breast from the side. Before long, she laid the purse onto the floor underneath the bench and turned to face the mirror once again. This time, she began to dance.

With her feet barely moving, she undulated slowly to an exotic rhythm that only they heard. Her hips and body swayed back and forth as her arms moved over her naked skin. Eventually she began to spin in quarter circles, playing with the top of the thong panties as if testing to see which side would come down her body easiest. As she faced away again, she looked over her shoulder and pulled them all the way down her long legs, finally revealling her pussy from behind as she leaned forward. Only a glimpse, but he saw the upturned ass cheeks spread slightly as the black material peeled between them to show her shadowed flesh. Before he could stop himself, he was holding his crotch and outlining the length of his cock with his free hand.

Claudia stepped back out of her panties and ran one hand up the inside of her leg before standing upright again. Her manicured fingers stopped at her velvety crossroads and sampled her moist heat. And before he could blink she had spun to sit down on the bench, legs askew. As she settled in, one leg drew up so that she could rest a heel on the edge of the corner of the bench. From this position, Gabe tried to focus in on her neatly trimmed cunt now spreading before his very eyes. Her arm was in the way as she reached underneath her thigh to get something.

He continued to stroke himself through his clothes while trying to see what she was doing with her hands. Once he was zoomed in and focused, he saw her slipping on what looked like a fake finger. As he stared at it, he realized it was covering mostly the pad of her left index finger and she held it in front of her pussy while her other hand reached back underneath her again. Suddenly he realized that it was a fingertip vibrator and she was going to play with herself before him.

By the time she had melted back against the wall to inspect her vibrating finger, he already had his pants undone and down to his thighs. His throbbing cock lept out across the table as he strained to see what was happening. He thought of the noise and quickly looked to see that the chatty teenage girls were the only other customers in the stalls and they seemed oblivious to any buzzing sound coming from their neighbor.

As he circled his member with his hand he saw that Mrs. Bussleman had shifted herself so that she could hang her ass partially off the bench and lean back comfortably to watch herself in the mirror. Her hands were seductively massaging her pussy lips as the pulsating finger hovered over her opening flower. She stared at her image with eyes half-closed while fingering her wet fleshy lips and rubbing her own juices over her little toy. By the time she finally touched herself with it, Gabriel was stroking the full length of his cock in earnest, sure that he would cum at any moment and miss all the glorious details.

When her finger finally touched her pussy, her body tensed immediately. The fingertip toy slid down into her cunt briefly and then back up to just over her throbbing clit. She was already beginning to move her hips and stomach to adjust the sensations. Before long, her other hand cradled her breast and massaged it as she opened her lips to let escape her first moans of pleasure.

Gabe breathlessly pumped his engorged member as he looked away to see the college girls stop and stare at each other. They looked around the stall and then one pointed to the wall adjoining Claudia's bench. Looking back, he saw Claudia, mouth open and dreamily staring at the fingertip dance over her cunt. The girls each buried their mouths in their hands as one leaned forward to put her ear on the wall. Their eyes were huge as they stopped talking for the first time and listened to the moaning that Gabe could only imagine.

With her stomach twitching feverishly now, Claudia's free leg straightened out to push against the stall door for leverage. This must have caused a loud bang, because the co-ed's ear flew off the wall as she looked back at her friend and smiled. Then both girls were putting their ears to the wall as the steady moans continued. They must hear the buzzing now, thought Gabriel, as he felt his own thighs twitch in anticipation. He watched her finger herself and felt his own orgasm at hand.

Claudia came first in a rapid fire stream of events. Her face turned heavenward as if eating a grape fed to her by the gods, eyes closed, and legs tensing. The hand over her pussy disappeared as her legs engulfed it in spasm. Then her body quivered uncontrollably for what seemed like minutes as waves of pleasure escaped her clit and cunt. As she was panting and flinching less and less, Gabe came all over his pumping fist, the table, and even the controls and lower monitors. His cum flew in every direction in white, fiery lava droplets. He heard his own moan of release and nearly fainted against the screens before him. His hand stroked a few more times and then held the base of his penis as it twitched its gratitude and exhaustion.