I'm Her Voyeur

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Watching Her through the Window

I knew...that it wasn't something that I should have been doing. Isn't that the appeal of voyeurism? Watching someone that doesn't know that they're being watched, thinking that they are completely and utterly alone?

Well, maybe not. Maybe some in the world would rather their partner or partners of the moment knew that they were there.

Not me. That was why I was out there in the tree, waiting, watching, all for Pixie to return to the bedroom, light on her hooves, the gazelle so very sweet. I'd been watching her for a long time, though I'd always known that Pixie would not love me, would never want me. Not because I was nothing more than a common fox, nothing all that special about me physically, but because of her boyfriend.

Yes... Her boyfriend. She loved him dearly and I didn't begrudge her for that, oh no. He was a stud to behind, a big, hulking bear with a cock to match his size. Sometimes, I didn't even know how a dick like that was able to penetrate her without causing damage, but that was something for the two of them to work out. All I had to do was to reside in the tree outside her window, wearing camouflage gear, hiding myself amongst the thick, dense leaves of summer. My problem truly would come when winter came around and the leaves fell from the tree, for I didn't quite know what I would do then to get my rocks off.

No... There was no bad feeling in me, not towards Pixie, no, not at all. Maybe that's strange for you to hear, but I just wanted to watch, to enjoy, even if I knew that I couldn't have her for myself. In that way, she had already made her decision, not even wanting to hang out as friends back when we had both worked at the coffee shop together. I wasn't going to push her for more when there was clearly not going to be any kind of relationship between us.

Maybe that made it worse that I was out there in the tree, but I'd been rationalising watching the gazelle for months already, sneaking moments when I knew she'd be home. Pixie must have thought, quite fairly, that her bedroom window was a lot more private than it was and she couldn't be blamed for that.

But it turned me on, incredibly so, to violate the privacy of hers. If I could not have her, then I would enjoy the view and no more than the view, even while the leaves brushed my muzzle, tickling my russet fur. Sitting in the crook of the tree, set back from the outer leaves a little, was not the most comfortable of positions, the bark rough against me, though I'd go through any manner of discomfort if it meant that I got to see Pixie.

My trousers were pulled down, enough to expose my sheath and balls, tracing a claw around them idly, casually. Pixie had only just come home and I was there, waiting, for the light to come on in the bedroom. When it flicked on, illuminating her simple, tasteful room with blue-tone soft furnishings, I knew the show was starting.

Oh, how I had been waiting for that night... I hadn't been able to come in a while and, well, I could never be sure if she was going to do anything special while I was there. I didn't just want to watch her, of course, I wanted a show. And a very special kind of show too. I wanted to see her stripping down and off, getting down and dirty, though, really, I didn't think Pixie could get dirty with anything.

I got lucky that night, running my claws around the edge of my sheath again as I enjoyed the view of her body, how her hips wriggled as she squirmed out of her tight jeans. Of course, the gazelle had no idea at all that I was there, watching her, and I chuckled throatily, shaking my head. Everything was going to plan, my arousal swelling, even though the brisk chill of the night air tried to prevent my hardness from rising. Sometimes, the body was more powerful than even nature, though not often could I say that. I just felt it especially true in that moment.

Her jeans slid down and down and down her legs, seeming longer than they were, even though Pixie was rather short, as was the way for gazelles. My eyes could not help but follow, devouring her visually with my hunger, tongue flicking out and over my lips. Her dainty hooves had been glad in short, ankle boots, but those were kicked off to reveal her bare legs in all their glory, a slash of cream down the back at the top, just where her natural markings brushed her thighs. The rest of her legs was a brilliant golden-orange, so bright and enticing that it brought a blush to my cheeks. It was just as well that I had my russet fur to hide it, for that was not something that I would have wanted out there for everyone to see.

"Yes, Pixie..."

I breathed out her name, whispering it like a prayer. Oh, she was beautiful, so very beautiful, my favourite kind of show as she drew her button-up blouse up and over her head with only the top couple of buttons undone. Somehow, the gazelle managed to get it over her short horns without catching it - I didn't understand how some anthros managed that. It always seemed so difficult! Yet everything the gazelle did came with an innate air of grace, as if it all came easily to her, shifting her weight and smiling.

Still, she did not know she was being watched. Still, she was a glory to behold. My cock thickened, greedily taking in her nearly nude body, clad just in some rather fetching pale blue lingerie. It was nothing particularly special, though it served to highlight her slim, lithe body even more nicely than before. She had narrower hips than what most would have seen as desirable, matching her shoulders, though there was a curve to her waist that my eye could follow up to her breasts.

And she was gorgeous. I never would have refuted that, not as a little more blood pumped into my cock, thickening up even further. I knew it would be hard and pulsing with desire in no time at all, but I wanted to savour it. It was not as if she, of course, knew that I was there. I could take all the time I wanted in admiring her, the form of her body, how the white of her front, the marking that would not have been seen if she had been more like a four-legged gazelle, the kind that were mere animals, not anthros like us, tucked into her underwear.

I wished that I could hear her, my tail tucking down a little more against my rump, though the russet was well-hidden by the leaves, for which I was grateful. That was all I wanted, all I knew that I had to linger in, panting lightly, my tongue flicking out against my lips and sliding up against the side of my muzzle, lapping lightly.

"Pixie... Oh, Pixie..."

My intentions may have only been honourable, really, considering that I had no intention of ever taking anything further with her, but I knew that Pixie too would not have wanted me there. She had made her feelings clear and yet...I couldn't stay away.

It was intoxicating, watching her slide the straps of her bra down her arms, revealing more and more of herself, the best kind of striptease. I needed more, so much more, though my fingers tightened around the branch of the tree, making the leaves rustle and shake.

I didn't have the best view of what was going on there, even if I wanted to, leaves cutting across my vision. Sometimes, I shrank my form back, afraid that I was being too forward, that my breath was making the leaves shake and rustle, annoying me further. Yet I had to remain hidden, a cold chill tickling my spine as if invisible fingers were stroking down it.

Oh, I wished so very much that those very fingers belonged to the sex gazelle.

The treat of her breasts, however, was revealed as she reached behind herself to undo her bra. I'd always thought that it would be easier to slide it around to the front to undo, being that it was a strap and all that hooked around the back, but someone had told me before, when we'd been talking about sexy ladies like that, a bit high on weed and super relaxed, that it was sexier when they took off their bras like that. I didn't see the difference, even if I still very much appreciated the show. It was all about the anthro under the clothing, of course, so much more than what was on them and how it was taken off.

She dropped the bra on the floor, though I wondered at how messy she was being. It was not like her, but kind of as if Pixie was in a rush, as if she was trying to move quickly, to do more, even though I did not see the need for it. I wanted to tell her to take her time, that there was no rush to be had, that I would take all the time in the world for her, only for her, just for her.

But she seemed to have something else in mind. I didn't move a muscle, a fingertip at the head of my cock, gaze drifting from the pink of her nipples showing through her short coat of fur, though I thought that gazelles, and a lot of ungulates too, referred to it as hair. It was a different consistency, after all, to the fur on the body of a fox, but I wanted to rake my fingers over it all the same, softly, smoothly, all to adore her.

Yet Pixie would only live in my fantasies as I licked my lips lustfully and adored her from afar.

The gazelle sat back on the edge of the bed and slid her underwear down her legs, though I failed to see it. Suddenly, all that mattered was her bare body, the image of her revealed, bit by bit, the long, slim legs that seemed too long for such a petite body. Everything about the gazelle came together perfectly, down to her dainty, black hooves, the white markings stretching down her legs, but not far enough to colour her hooves a lighter shade.

I'd heard from horses that black hooves were stronger, or so it was said, than white hooves. Being a fox, I didn't have any say in that.

She spread her legs, as if eager. I was eager and it was good to see her eager too, the folds of her pussy revealed right away. Normally, I had to wait longer for that, if she even masturbated at all, though Pixie's intentions that night seemed quite clear, even to me. Even to someone that did not deserve to hear what her intentions were, someone whom she had already turned down.

I, in a way, would still have her, even if only from a distance. That would be enough, yes, for me.

Her lips parted and I heard her moan, even if it was only in my mind. I was not in the room with her, the cool of the night seeping into my bones. I was outside and I would forever remain on the outside.

End preview.

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