One Click Chicks Forum - [Non Fiction Stories - Voyeur] I'm a 'girl-worshipper'

(girl n. affectionate description for woman; a young or relatively young woman;)
(common descriptor for adult female of any age)

For me, that means ‘look don’t touch’. It means being in awe, timid, mumbling, eyes lowered in the presence of Goddesses (girls/women who know they’re attractive, sexy). If you’ve read any of my other posts you’ll know what I am.

I’ve met other girl-worshippers, though we’re not all the same. Some do touch, but also want to look, wank, buy magazines etc. Some like me make a point of going places where girls show, and whereas I only need to press up gently against a bar and ogle till She makes me cum in my pants, other worshippers like to rub under their macs – I’ve seen them.

You get the perverts who know where all the ‘lover’s lanes’ are, and stand in the bushes and wank in their macs watching girls being fucked, sucking and the rest of it – that’s what they tell me, I‘ve never done that and never would. Part of being a girl-worshipper is showing all girls and women the utmost respect, which means you never spy on them, try to see what they don’t intend to show.

Mind you, they tell me that a lot of the girls down lover’s lanes DO want to be seen. It’s what I love most about girls that show, is when they love to show, and many girls do, believe me. Not that I know what girls think or want, I know nothing.

I was in my 40s before I actually knew what sex was, what happens when men and women get together, and I was in my 40s by the time I first saw a girl deliberately show. Before then it was just lucky views and my huge collection of ‘dirty’ magazines, videos, clippings, photos and anything else that had pictures of girls.

Hardcore was banned when I was younger, and anyway most of what I bought magazine-wise was on the top shelves of the newsagents. I could just about handle topless (though I’d usually cum in my pants just looking at Her cleavage pics) but no more, and my favourite mags were girl-next-door, miniskirt, cleavage, bikini – knickers only, no more than that, ever – mags like Spick and Span and Beautiful Britons.

It wasn’t until VHS tapes came out and one was playing in one of the bookshops I went to and I had to ask the lady behind the counter what the man and woman were doing on the film – “why is She in pain, what’s he doing to Her?!”

I think the lady already knew what sort of ‘perv’ I was, since I’d been in Her shop 100s of times and bought 100s and 100s of mags. How She laughed at me, and then the penny dropped.

So, a useless perv you might think, no use to any girl. Guilt and humiliation was my early life, having to see the girls at work the next day after the perviest wank-orgies the night before, chanting their names. In those days most people didn’t talk about sex openly, and I was terrified that anyone would find out I was a ‘wanker’.

So being able to personally worship any Goddess didn’t ever seem possible. Of course I dreamed of seeing girls pose for real, having seen them pose in my mags so much, my collection exceeding 10,000 before I stopped buying them in the 90s as they got too explicit.
I knew men saw girls pose, like at the camera clubs run by Escort magazine, but of course I could never attend those – my secret would be out, and I’d be mocked out the door with a big wet patch on the front of my trousers.

But when I saw ‘photo studios’ advertising sessions for amateurs, I sometimes went along to ask to buy any spare photos, often getting a lovely ogle at the sexy girl in reception (usually also the girl who posed), once a girl in a lovely low-cut top even made me spunk my pants in front of Her.

So my first Goddess, the first I was able to worship personally, was a model at a photo-studio. She was the first girl I saw pose, the first girl who let me look at Her while She deliberately showed, the first girl who saw the dirty mags stuffed into my case and what I’d done to them, saw what I’d written and drawn on the pages and the stains and tissues crammed into them. The first girl who saw me spunk my pants as She showed, and She knew She would having read the caption in my magazine and copied that pose – so the first girl who deliberately made me cum in my pants in front of Her.

For Her it was the modelling fee She got, and I worshipped Her for nearly 7 years until I couldn’t afford Her fee any more. When the Internet came along, I worshipped 7 Goddesses personally but remotely, I never met them but sent them graphic ‘worship sheets’ and told them in detail – according to their preferences of course – how I worshipped them and what they made me do.

But I also worshipped 3 Goddesses in person – saw them in a studio, gave them printed worship sheets and other worship material, saw them pose, saw them look at my worship folders of them on my laptop, including pervy ‘worship videos’ (cartoons of ‘me’ ogling them and cumming through the front of my trousers) and did it in my pants during the Worship Session.

They were all absolutely lovely to me, understanding, knowing how in awe of them I was, knowing they gave me ecstasy and wet pants during the Session, even if I couldn’t let it show, and indulging my worship and perviness in the loveliest way, making me feel it was ok to be me.

Unfortunately for me, my worship had to stop when they ‘retired’ from modelling, so I’m now actively looking for a new Goddess to worship personally – I pay modelling rates, send worship material, bring gifts, run errands, flatter and amuse, carry out your every wish and whim.....and all I need is your photos and videos, to hear what you say, and to see you in your lovely outfits.