Side Story: The Voyeur

Tate had been in the walls since before the hidden door opened.

He always was. The house let him move through the plaster and the dark spaces between the floors whenever he wanted. Tonight it had wanted him to see. It had tugged him downward the moment Violet chose to follow Moira into the basement, and he had gone without resistance.

From a narrow gap high in the curved stone of the secret chamber he watched everything.

He watched Violet strip without being told twice. He watched the steam rise off the claw-foot tub as Moira soaped her hands and put them on his girl’s body. He watched those red-nailed fingers push inside Violet and make her come the first time with her head tipped back and her mouth open. The wet sounds carried perfectly to where he hid.

His cock was already hard.

When they left the tub and Moira brought out the long black double-ended toy, Tate’s hand shoved into his jeans without conscious thought. He freed himself and wrapped his fist around his shaft, stroking in time with the way Moira fed the first thick end into Violet. He watched every inch disappear. He watched Moira straddle her and sink down onto the other end until their bodies met in the middle and both of them were full.

The slow, powerful way Moira started to fuck them both nearly undid him.

Tate’s fist moved faster. He kept his breathing silent the way the house had taught him years ago. Below him the bench creaked. Skin slapped wetly against skin. Violet’s broken little cries every time Moira drove the shared toy deep made his cock throb hard in his grip. He could see how stretched she was. He could see the way her thighs trembled around Moira’s hips. He could see the smeared red lipstick when they kissed with their mouths open and filthy.

He wanted to be the one inside her. He wanted to be the one making those sounds come out of her throat. Instead he was a ghost in the wall with his cock in his hand, watching another woman use the girl he still thought of as his.

The thought only made him stroke harder.

When Violet came the second time, cunt visibly clenching around the thick black shaft, Tate’s own orgasm crashed over him. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to stay quiet and spilled across the dusty stone floor of the narrow space that held him. Thick ropes of come striped the old mortar and dripped. His hips jerked through it in silence while below him Moira rode out her own climax with the toy still buried to the root in both of them.

He stayed there afterward, cock still in his fist, breathing through his nose, watching them remain joined on the bench while the candles flickered.

The house pressed against him in the dark, amused and satisfied that he had seen every detail.

Tate finally tucked himself away and melted back into the deeper walls, leaving his spend cooling on the hidden floor.

He would remember the way Violet looked with that toy stretching her open for a very long time.