This is a print version of story A Stepfather's Revenge part 3 by Acebottom from

A Stepfather's Revenge part 3

Still, he didn’t go about building it right away. There were nagging feelings of fear and guilt to deal with. He had never done anything like this before and after all, if successful, this project would constitute a massive invasion of privacy. Some folks might even judge it as criminal—and he vehemently abhorred being classified as a criminal.

A still small voice was saying, “ be careful Ned!”

Everyday for a whole week he thought about the prospect of the peephole. During that time he’d had more small, discrete glimpses of the two lusty young lionesses in various stages of half-dress. Oh how he’d love to fell one or both of them, but of course he knew that that would be totally impossible. He would have to settle for peeps.

He inspected the innards of his closet everyday for the best possible spot that would accommodate the tiniest of peepholes. He wanted to be absolutely certain there would be no possible chance of discovery. But he knew that he must act soon for one part of him was already opting out of the plan out of fear.

Though every time he sniffed one of the sexy, skin-fit panties and felt the corresponding ache in his groin he knew he was nearer to his peephole.

But what if he was found out! Not that the girls, or their mother would go looking for a hole in the wall, but the superintendent for the building could come around needing to fix something, and he, possessing the same “Mr. Fix-it eyes” like Ned’s would definitely spot it.

If it were determined that he had actually constructed a hole in the wall to spy on his stepdaughters who knows what the consequences would be? He would probably end up in jail in disgrace, and the little bitches would be so happy to get rid of him for good.

But that was the chance he had to take. He guessed there would always be that element of danger in i*****l activities. That was the extra fillip of engaging in such activities. If what you were after was easily attainable or offered up free of charge, with no risk involved, it would not be so valuable and you might not even have a desire to attain it.

Two long weeks later and after numerous worrisome thoughts Ned finally had his peephole up and running and ready for action. It had taken him most of half of a day to get it right. He worked with precision tools. The hole was so microscopically small it looked like a mere dot on the wall of his closet.

He tested it several time by bending down inside the closet and spying through to the other side and then going around to determine what he had actually seen. Everything was perfect. He could see into most of the main area where f****y members came out to dry off after showering. He would be presented with a great show.

He remembered going to a big city once and paying two dollars to view a peepshow in a red-light district. Now his own homemade peephole would afford him a more superb show and totally for free.

As evening neared, his anticipation grew, and his organ got consistently harder at the thought of the arrival of the first girl. The thought of what he was going to see was overpowering his mind and his cock.

Eventually, with all perfect—every tee crossed and every eye dotted—he settled back in his room to wait, like a lion on the Serengeti waiting for his Zebra by the water hole.

Ned’s heart was racing when he heard the front door opening, then slamming shut. He knew that it was one of the girls for his wife came home much later in the evenings.

He cocked his ears, and listened intently, tracking her movements as she rummaged in the other rooms and in the refrigerator. He could picture her throwing down her book bag, removing all her clothing and wrapping in a towel to prepare for bath.

When he heard the bathroom door slammed shut he knew that his time had finally arrived. This was the moment of moments! How many weeks had he waited? All that time relying on the sweet memory of the first collision encounter and the brief glimpses afterward. Now he would be presented with the real thing.

He jumped off the bed and stealthily moved to the closet—its sliding door already ajar in preparation for the erotic adventure.

He entered the half filled enclosure—for he had removed most of it’s contents to better able to accommodate his medium built frame—and squatted so his eye-level was on par with his precious little spy-through. He cautiously moved his head forward and lightly pressed his face against the wall. He felt his eye lasses touched the sheetrock partition as he peered through the hole.

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