Oh, God. He's at it again. His legs are sprawled apart, knees spread like he's waiting to be mounted, and he's aiming it all toward this tiny hole from the bathroom to the bedroom that I can't help but occupy myself with. He's so amazingly beautiful as he strokes himself with precision, moans catching on his lips, words whispered to an unknown Lord, calling out in hushed tones of his pleasure.
I can't believe I'm watching like this. My pants are around my ankles, and I'm stroking myself at twice the speed he's going. I'll go to Hell for this, I'm sure. What kind of guy watches his best friends jerking off through a tiny peephole in the bathroom? The kind of guy like me.
It might be a different story if I wasn't so turned on by the way his lips move as he mutters obcenities in his passion. I'm going to Hell, and if it's any worse than having to keep it away from him that I watch him in the middle of the night, then I suppose it would still be worth it to watch him flush slightly as he swells and ebbs and flows in pleasure he gets from nothing else. Oh, but he does so divinely. He orgasms like an angel, and I yearn to taste an angel's seed in hopes that I will someday be able to coerce him into letting me sample and compare.
Hail Mary, full of grace... Dear Father, forgive me as I have sinned... are you there, God? It's me. Duo... forgive me my trespasses as I have sinned; let me find proper penance to condemn the deed and let me find my savior once more, but this time not in his flesh. Hail Mary... In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit... Forgive me for I continue to sin... Oh, God, does he have to make that noise when he finds his Heaven? Lord, forgive us, we know not what we do; forgive us our trespasses, forgive me my sins; forgive me this...
I come with the word "Amen" staining my lips like communion wine. My breath is heavy with prayer as my body reacts to everything at once, and I cross my chest with semen-coated fingers ready to drip and destroy me, as though my own essence is the holiest of water that would burn me like the demon I am for wanting him like this, and using him like this.
I continue to watch as he samples himself. I usually turn away at this point, but, today, I keep watching. I haven't killed anyone today. I need to live up to my penance. I can spare myself the sin of time spent on Heero spent.
His tongue roams across tho most intimate bits of his hands, and I long to be one of those thus involved parts of the process.
Heero finishes the business of clean-up, extracting the final finger from his suckling mouth with an audible moan. He gets up, pulling his clothes on, and walking toward the computer which happens to be right on the other side of the wall from me. He probably still hasn't realized this hole is here. It's hidden by a piece of trim.
I expect him to sit down and get to work, but he stares at what I feel to be me, instead. He can't see me, though. He can't. Yet, he winks.
Oh, God. He knows I watch. Oh, God! What Hell am I living in? Did I die without realizing it and this is my Hell now? He lives in Heaven, I live in Hell, and this tiny prick of a hole is purgatory?
I drop to my still-bared knees, pants still caught about my ankles, and I begin to cross myself, mumbling words of prayer on half-heady breaths that he knows but he hasn't killed me yet. He... knows, and he shows me. Oh, God... that glimpse of Heaven. I'll purge my sin, Father! Give my damned soul one more chance, I pray of you!
Lord, forgive me...