Voyeurism

The cloying satiety of prolific indulgence, left me, at best disturbed, with the unfathomable rudiments of my own compulsion, left to the discrepancy of parliament. The scorching torture of self loathing, the unwholesome ideation of forbidden quest, fornicating in the compost of decadence and urging me to pitiful excess. I speak of voyeurism, that deviant aphrodisiac of clandestine intrusion, and pervasive erotomania. If I could salvage, the prospect of my infatuation in the nude through the window, in that informed spatial circumspect of conversant study I could derive the essential imagery, for the aforementioned sensual abbreviations. A grin on my face, as the maiden Josephine, divests from the shroud of an empire waist dress. The exquisite brevity of its collapse unto the floor, the elegant posture of her statuesque tournure, lather my libido to a wuthering climax. Oh Josephine, such a marvelous panoply of nymphic quintessence! I was sick ofcourse, it was the impervious monopoly of a malady that prosecuted me, or perhaps some influence of diablerie, for there was a villainous calamity in my temperament, when she egressed the chamber. Many times I would witness as she returned from her nocturnal bathe, utterly nude and at length, resign to her bed, after communing benignly with her vanity. The illumination of the lamp would be relinquished from its vigil, and I would return frantically to my abode. It is here that I would feel that quaint languor of depression and a morbid surfeit of haranguing qualm. There was nothing to assuage the reins of discontentment, but perhaps the very epiphany, that my own vessel was becoming gaunt during this eon of mediation, superinduced the more hideous surmises of the conscious. I sobbed wearily, for I could not divine any credible conduit of the metamorphosis. It was not longer before I had the dream. I was partaking in the indulgence of a nuptial act, with the maiden Josephine, but I felt a horrible intercrural ache amidst the ecstasy. It was sudden, and I awoke soon after to find a piece of paper upon my dewy breast. Under the gloss of the lamp it read, "The Hunter has become the Hunted" and I gasped when I removed my undergarment, and could not perceive, even a vestige of my manhood in the smooth vastness of my kegel.