ext_46207 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
http://users.livejournal.com/nixxie_/) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2002-09-25 10:39 am
http://users.livejournal.com/nixxie_/) wrote in fellowshippers2002-09-25 10:39 am
Fic: Dark nights - Spier,1/1, NC-17, No specified pairing.
Title: Dark nights - Spier 1/1
Author: Nixxie
Pairing: See notes.
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Beyond the fellowship and anywhere else that asks nicely.
E-mail address for feedback: nix@nixxe.co.uk
Disclaimers: Don't own no one 'cept myself. And I'm not even sure about that some days.
Brief Summary: An irresistible window view calls out in the night.
Authors notes: With immense thanks to my two main beta priestesses of the high temple: Caz and Angel. I shall anoint thee with the sacred oils and praise thy names greatly!
Note 2: I had three people in mind when I wrote this, Please let me know who you thought it was as I'm interested to know!
I don't know why I started, I certainly didn't mean to. There I was in the house they'd rented me for the shoot, and I found that if I leaned out of my bedroom window just so, I could see them, see their bedroom. I could watch their nightly motions, watch the dressing and undressing, watch the soft kisses on tired nights, see but not hear the arguments on rough nights, watch but never join in the sex on horny nights.
They seemed quite varied, no patterns, no set agenda, no titles, just fucking or love-making or shagging or blowing, how they decided whose turn it was at what I'm not sure, they just seemed to know, to flow with it without questions.
As I said, I didn't mean to start, but now I have I cannot possibly stop. My nightly ritual of spying, my nightly accompanying hand job on sex nights, my anger on fight nights, my heartache on love nights. I know I can never be more of a part of this, know they don't know about me, know they never can know about me. Knowing my own hands are as close as I'll come to their holes, their lips, their sexy touches.
And yet I cannot stop. I sit here now, knowing that their car was not far behind mine, knowing they will be coming up to their bedroom soon. My mind drifts to the day we had, hard swordplay, tiring arduous scenes. I contemplate if lovemaking will be on tonight's menu, soothing aching bodies. I feel myself hardening at the thought, my hands splayed out over my body.
My head snaps up as their door slams open, two bodies fly through. Oh no, not fighting, please not tonight. But it's okay, they're not fighting. They're locked together in a passionate embrace, hard taut bodies pressing against each other, fingers pulling clothes from suddenly hot skin, cloth dropping unheeded to a floor as one presses the other hard against the door, almost buckling it on it's hinges.
No light from my room disturbs them, I cannot be seen here in the darkness, the only sound I can hear is my own palm slapping now terribly hard skin, my own moans fill the air as an unknown echo to their own. I assume my position, one leg up on the windowsill, back hard against the wood. Balancing here, neck craning, bare toe on floorboards balancing my body.
And it's hard and brutal tonight, the legs of one are already wrapped around the waist of the other, fingers probing up from underneath, the look of anguished need tells me the finger is bare of slickness, tonight they just need, they ache. And I ache with them. My heart races, my fingers cupping, squeezing, trying to massage away the ache, trying to make this last. But they aren't making it last.
My flush accompanies the other, my moan in tandem with what must be an anguished scream of ecstasy and bliss mixed as fingers release and hole is filled fast and full, as hands hold cheeks tight. Lips now mixing together, I can see tongues darting out, teeth crashing, jaws moving fast, hand tangled in hair, pulling needily, other scratching on back, nails digging.
And I time my hand with the slamming hips. He's pushing at the other hard against the door, he's pushing himself harder and harder still inside the body that aches for him. But then I ache too, I want, I spy here nightly because I can never have either of the two. I know I have no one of my own, my years against me, they think I don't know, haven't discovered this part of my life yet, don't need, but I do. I need too much, I ache too much.
My pace increases, arm muscles aching, cramping up. But I cannot stop, not now, not when they're......Oh, but this is different, this is new. The hand on back travels down spine, dips into crack, dips in deeper, heads pull back, eyes glaring together as fingers probe, pushing them both to the limits, hips once slammed in long hard thrusts now becoming jerkier, shorter, faster. The ache is unbearable in me now, I grip my balls, feeling them contract. Almost there, almost close.
And then the head of the pierced one falls back, hits the door. Jaw wide, eyes shut tightly, body shuddering, toes curling. And the other presses harder against him, thighs tight, feet braced, hands pushing hips, head bowed to bare shoulder, and five mind-numbingly hard, hot, smooth strokes later he stops, bodies both shuddering and spasming in unison, arms shaking, legs buckling, falling to the ground. And tears of agonised bliss fall from my eyes. I feel myself cuming, hands squeezing so hard my cum hits the windowpane, pearly whiteness trickling down glass as my eyes open again, breath coming in uneven spasms through my nose, lips shut tight.
They're off the floor now, helping each other on weary legs to the bed, dropping onto it, pulling the covers up, hiding their beautiful bodies from my sight. And my tears continue, sobs come from my mouth, back arched, slipping down as I fall to the floor under the window of my dreams.
I will stop, I have to, I tell myself this nightly now. I cannot bear to be here alone when they have each other to hold throughout the night.
But sobs grow to wails, uncontrollable tears falling fast to chest, to naked knees pulled up tight. I know I have to stop and yet I cannot bring myself to do it. Each night this fantasy window of mine draws me near, calling me and I cannot resist it. The call of spying on them is too much, too much to ask me to lose.
I didn't want to at first, I stumbled across them and like a deer caught in headlights they have kept me enthralled as they draw nearer to me, bringing my untimely end closer.
My spying costs me dear, and I say I will stop.
But I know tomorrow the ritual will start again. And as I dry my eyes on backs of hands my mind is already thinking of what the next night will bring, what they will do together as I watch alone.
I don't know why I started spying in this dark window of mine but I know I cannot stop now.
I never shall.
Author: Nixxie
Pairing: See notes.
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Beyond the fellowship and anywhere else that asks nicely.
E-mail address for feedback: nix@nixxe.co.uk
Disclaimers: Don't own no one 'cept myself. And I'm not even sure about that some days.
Brief Summary: An irresistible window view calls out in the night.
Authors notes: With immense thanks to my two main beta priestesses of the high temple: Caz and Angel. I shall anoint thee with the sacred oils and praise thy names greatly!
Note 2: I had three people in mind when I wrote this, Please let me know who you thought it was as I'm interested to know!
I don't know why I started, I certainly didn't mean to. There I was in the house they'd rented me for the shoot, and I found that if I leaned out of my bedroom window just so, I could see them, see their bedroom. I could watch their nightly motions, watch the dressing and undressing, watch the soft kisses on tired nights, see but not hear the arguments on rough nights, watch but never join in the sex on horny nights.
They seemed quite varied, no patterns, no set agenda, no titles, just fucking or love-making or shagging or blowing, how they decided whose turn it was at what I'm not sure, they just seemed to know, to flow with it without questions.
As I said, I didn't mean to start, but now I have I cannot possibly stop. My nightly ritual of spying, my nightly accompanying hand job on sex nights, my anger on fight nights, my heartache on love nights. I know I can never be more of a part of this, know they don't know about me, know they never can know about me. Knowing my own hands are as close as I'll come to their holes, their lips, their sexy touches.
And yet I cannot stop. I sit here now, knowing that their car was not far behind mine, knowing they will be coming up to their bedroom soon. My mind drifts to the day we had, hard swordplay, tiring arduous scenes. I contemplate if lovemaking will be on tonight's menu, soothing aching bodies. I feel myself hardening at the thought, my hands splayed out over my body.
My head snaps up as their door slams open, two bodies fly through. Oh no, not fighting, please not tonight. But it's okay, they're not fighting. They're locked together in a passionate embrace, hard taut bodies pressing against each other, fingers pulling clothes from suddenly hot skin, cloth dropping unheeded to a floor as one presses the other hard against the door, almost buckling it on it's hinges.
No light from my room disturbs them, I cannot be seen here in the darkness, the only sound I can hear is my own palm slapping now terribly hard skin, my own moans fill the air as an unknown echo to their own. I assume my position, one leg up on the windowsill, back hard against the wood. Balancing here, neck craning, bare toe on floorboards balancing my body.
And it's hard and brutal tonight, the legs of one are already wrapped around the waist of the other, fingers probing up from underneath, the look of anguished need tells me the finger is bare of slickness, tonight they just need, they ache. And I ache with them. My heart races, my fingers cupping, squeezing, trying to massage away the ache, trying to make this last. But they aren't making it last.
My flush accompanies the other, my moan in tandem with what must be an anguished scream of ecstasy and bliss mixed as fingers release and hole is filled fast and full, as hands hold cheeks tight. Lips now mixing together, I can see tongues darting out, teeth crashing, jaws moving fast, hand tangled in hair, pulling needily, other scratching on back, nails digging.
And I time my hand with the slamming hips. He's pushing at the other hard against the door, he's pushing himself harder and harder still inside the body that aches for him. But then I ache too, I want, I spy here nightly because I can never have either of the two. I know I have no one of my own, my years against me, they think I don't know, haven't discovered this part of my life yet, don't need, but I do. I need too much, I ache too much.
My pace increases, arm muscles aching, cramping up. But I cannot stop, not now, not when they're......Oh, but this is different, this is new. The hand on back travels down spine, dips into crack, dips in deeper, heads pull back, eyes glaring together as fingers probe, pushing them both to the limits, hips once slammed in long hard thrusts now becoming jerkier, shorter, faster. The ache is unbearable in me now, I grip my balls, feeling them contract. Almost there, almost close.
And then the head of the pierced one falls back, hits the door. Jaw wide, eyes shut tightly, body shuddering, toes curling. And the other presses harder against him, thighs tight, feet braced, hands pushing hips, head bowed to bare shoulder, and five mind-numbingly hard, hot, smooth strokes later he stops, bodies both shuddering and spasming in unison, arms shaking, legs buckling, falling to the ground. And tears of agonised bliss fall from my eyes. I feel myself cuming, hands squeezing so hard my cum hits the windowpane, pearly whiteness trickling down glass as my eyes open again, breath coming in uneven spasms through my nose, lips shut tight.
They're off the floor now, helping each other on weary legs to the bed, dropping onto it, pulling the covers up, hiding their beautiful bodies from my sight. And my tears continue, sobs come from my mouth, back arched, slipping down as I fall to the floor under the window of my dreams.
I will stop, I have to, I tell myself this nightly now. I cannot bear to be here alone when they have each other to hold throughout the night.
But sobs grow to wails, uncontrollable tears falling fast to chest, to naked knees pulled up tight. I know I have to stop and yet I cannot bring myself to do it. Each night this fantasy window of mine draws me near, calling me and I cannot resist it. The call of spying on them is too much, too much to ask me to lose.
I didn't want to at first, I stumbled across them and like a deer caught in headlights they have kept me enthralled as they draw nearer to me, bringing my untimely end closer.
My spying costs me dear, and I say I will stop.
But I know tomorrow the ritual will start again. And as I dry my eyes on backs of hands my mind is already thinking of what the next night will bring, what they will do together as I watch alone.
I don't know why I started spying in this dark window of mine but I know I cannot stop now.
I never shall.