p0rn
Charis has been busy writing a new series and happened to mention that vibrators or the purchasing of, are illegal in Texas, I'm not quite sure how that spurned this story but it did! /headdesk
Title: Pleasure Thief
Wordcount: 1568
Warnings: SMUT, voyuerism
The road fell quiet as evening fell. Namir waited until dusk, the sun safe below the horizon yet the moon not yet risen to shine on misbehaviour. This was his time. Nimble as a cat he slipped through shadows, skipped over a low wall and skimmed a building. His dark grey clothing blended until he became part of the evening’s shading. Having watched, he knew this house was empty. The owner left prompt every Friday, on foot, casual smart, not returning until the early hours of day.
Namir was not greedy, he sought only a few expensive trifles and stayed clear of anything treasured. But he was a thief. A good one. He slipped under the security light without triggering the beam, tested the door handle, because he’d encountered less cautious homeowners. No luck there. Adopting a wire tool with the agility of familiar use he eased open a pane and squirmed through the narrow opening.
Curtains pulled, the room was foggy, but once his eyes adjusted he made his way across a comfortable room and slipped up carpeted stairs without event. Without sound. Night time awoke fears and noises wielded suspicion, but here in the evening time he had only natural caution to prompt hush. He knew he had time for leisure, though any trespass was not a place to linger and be caged.
There was no obvious thing of value to catch at Namir’s busy eyes. The house was largely unadorned, simple clean lines he’d admire on a daytime visit. Bachelor size screen and music centre overwhelming the main room. Controls for a scientists pleasure, but not objects worth capture to a single slight built thief.
The bed was a surprise, when he reached that sanctuary. Large, heavy wooden frame. It dominated the room, simple bedside units hugged each side, and neat fitted wardrobes disappeared allowing it it’s reign. A curious hand discovered textured throws, soft rich velvet coupled with cool silk and fresh crisp cotton sheets below.
Draws beckoned. Casual enquiry revealed them locked, where the office desk’s sprung open. A watch of reasonable value littered the counter, cufflinks of quirky and standard design. The man who lived here did not appear given to excessive ornamentation, on a personal level or in his domicile. Yet the sturdy wooden unit resting by his bed was locked. Securely locked. Secrets then. Possibly dubious contents.
On his knees in the thick pile carpet Namir fiddled diligently with the locks. They were good locks, he was intrigued, his interest aroused. Mr suburban homeowner had something to hide. Even the best of locks could not resist long under the assault of skilled probing persuasion, they gave with a well oiled click of release. Top draw sliding open with the gentle encouragement from small clever hands.
A feast for eyes. Carefully Namir caught up a shirt and draped the bedside light. Lit, it picked up on a scarlet thread and doused the room in a muted rosy hue. Indistinct objects kept their shadows but gave up their purpose in that dim glow. Fascinated Namir lifted out a recognisable plastic tube, then a more exotic glass vial whose contents gleamed when held to the caressing light. A pack of tissues had him conceal a snicker that wound unbound from his chest to tickle his throat and part his lips. The next item he dropped in surprise.
What secrets staid houses held! Mr respectable broke laws as well as Namir and Namir had watched enough to receive distracting visual. Slowly licking his dried lips Namir wondered how frequent this man’s transgression. The level of the oil told him this evening wasn’t the first violation the stately bricks and mortar had borne quiet witness too.
It was a sizeable object and Namir groaned low as he measured it’s girth with his palm. His general evening pursuits were not conducive to joint activities. Working alone was safer, though had consequence. Namir knew now what he wanted to steal from this house. Monetary values negligent, recovery a burden that would go unvoiced. Illicit channels unknown to Namir travelled with impunity.
Logic cowering in disbelief, Namir watched his own hand tilt the gilded bottle, and breathed deep of the pungent musk that wafted to fill the room. Thick oil graced his nimble fingers, warming on contact with his skin, brought automatically to his lips he touched the golden liquid with the pursed tip of his tongue before lapping eagerly at the spillage. Sweetness of honey and some heady unknown spice broke to burst flavour on his tongue. Smooth substance coating his throat as he spilt more and drew trails on his discovered prize. Hands gliding rhythmic over hard length, fingers teasing at bulbed head. Nair’s head fell back and he allowed an anguished sob. Felt alone in the too warm room, clothes too cumbersome and body needful.
His unknowing host was not due for many a drink fuelled hour. Though this toy, this secret would be his there was a danger and thrill at sampling it here in the man’s own home. To imagine his host knowing, participating in his fall. To picture this toy find it’s usual home, to think of watching, of aiding it’s progression.
Hasty hands loosened the ties of his pants and canvas jerked down to his bent knees. Boxers followed. Left bare arsed in the forbidden bedroom Namir felt a moments qualm, stifled by the low hum of a flicked switch. Body wanton and winning over thought, he slicked the device again. Hand lowered to spread a honeyed warmth over his erection, raising to greet the dew. Lip bit hard at the exquisite feel of warm smooth oil, at the knowledge of what was to come.
Lowering the busy hand he cupped balls filling with urgent need. Traced beyond, where the emptiness was growing. A finger first, movement easy, awaking raging need and warning of intention. Further fingers with a tweak of pain as muscles were stretched in haste.
His special gift was angled right, stroked along his cleft and left to rest there. A low throb enough to cause gasps and have Namir’s breath stutter in the silent room. Panting a fitting backdrop to the rosy space. The bed invited with it’s thick quilts and decadent feel, but temptation was resisted. Oiled fingers feathered up his chest under his clothing, he tweaked a nipple, rolled the tender nip and squirmed, wishing it was the hand of his benefactor. Rough and large hands, rather than his own slender fingers. He wanted to sample those vibes pressed firm to teased peaks but couldn’t bring himself to remove it from it’s seating.
Vibration upped he wriggled over the hard length, pushing against it, almost dropping it in his enthusiasm. Closing his eyes and licking bruised lips he breathed out then angled up. The wide head pushed in, uncomfortable at first, tight muscles resisting the intrusion, but he was a master thief and pushed ahead. Concentration in every pore he eased his body down, sinking deep onto this new toy, accepting it’s length, glorying in the tight stretch of it’s width.
Wonderful. Renewed vibrations were almost more than he could bare. Almost. Withdrawing it until only the tip entered him he tried out the dials, arching and angling for best effect. Pushed in and pulled a little out. Lunged it forward and fell himself, needing a hand to catch his balance as his nose grazed the floor. Crouched there panting in earnest he tried top speed and removed his hand to rely on clenching buttocks as he palmed his neglected flesh. Spreading leaked cum over desperate skin, and gripping tight at the base as he rode the ceaseless waves.
Whimpering Namir rolled about, seeking friction and release. His hand shook as it reclaimed the base of the device and his body mourned his move to remove it. Dial down, he settled for a lighter stimulation, that still went deep and sure. Thrusting hips and harsh breath. Sensations made demands and body strove to answer. Hand angling to control the dip and pull of hardness and have pulses racing along nerve ends and hitting secret places to unveil joy. Wild free joy, that coursed through his veins.
Whole body limp he rested. Employed a stolen tissue. Reclaimed his clothing with distaste at spreading stains. Standing Namir found his legs jellied. Body protesting rough use, whilst craving more. A deep sore made him smile reflectively and he eyed his toy, recumbent now, it’s power zapped.
Breathing steadied he was alarmed to hear an echo, turning on heal his eyes widened at an intruder. But he was the true intruder here. Mr homeowner had returned unheeded. Early in the proceedings if his wide stance and moving hand give indication. Namir watched in silence, saw a head fall back and heard a rough shout as the hand slowed and damp permeated denim.
Authorities were not a risk here and the men considered each other over the illicit contraband. Namir aware of his smaller frame and limbering up reluctant joints in preparation to run.
‘You can use the door out’ he was told in a husky voice that held no judgement, and he slipped carefully past to flow down the stairs, booty left behind. The voice followed him and he glanced back once to see his host watching him depart.
‘Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night you should try the second draw’
comment: can we just assume Mr Homeowner is ultra hygenic and there's no ick factor about the er theft! or home invasion....
xx