Through the Window

Note: Ravenn is an origional character and cannot be used without explicit permission from the wroter (me). This fiction can NOT be archived without direct permission (from me). The placement of this story on AFFN is solely for the purpose of not getting my ass kicked off my current web host for some little kid stumbling into my adult fiction area. Read it, rate it, review i you you see fit, but do NOT replicate it anywhere else. Thank you.
Writer: The Letter D aka Eman Modnar
Betareader: Dr. Lizzardo
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\"So. You want to see more of me, Hmm?\" Raven spoke softly in your ear, his hand resting on your shoulder with the lightest of pressure. \"Perhaps I could break the rules a little, just this once.\"

Raven\'s hand moved, stroking his fingertips down your back, and away after reaching about mid spine area. His soft footsteps moved over the carpet. He\'d already taken off his shoes. If you had been paying attention rather than staring at the computer screen, you might have noticed him come in.

He licked his lips as he looked over your room. He smelled faintly of rain, dried blood, and a hint of whatever was rotting under your bed. He turned, facing you, a soft, mischievous smile on his pale face.

\"Nice place you got here.\" He said. It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or not, or even if he really cared. His bright eyes locked on to yours for a moment as his smile increased, almost hungrily.

\"What do you think of my outfit?\" He said, spreading his arms. It wasn\'t anything new really, just a black thin, long-sleeved turtleneck that loosely held to his frame, and his usual pair of tight jeans. The only real difference about him today was the few feathers in his hair.

He touched the feathers with both his hands, fussing with his hair a bit, in such a fashion that his turtleneck was pulled up slightly, and taught over his chest, revealing a little of his pale belly beneath. He turned then, away from you, pulling the feathers free of his hair and laying them aside on whatever was convenient.

He paused as he removed the last feather from his hair and looked over his shoulder, grinning at you. \"Oh? You think it should be removed? Well, I must say, I quite agree.\"

A toss of his head and his hair was flicked to the side, over one of his shoulders, hands fluttering down to the hem of his shirt. A pause as he gathered the cloth into his clutch, then began to raise the soft flexible cloth upwards, back still facing you. Teasing you by revealing just an inch of his pale flesh at a time, before the cloth finally bunched under his armpits. When this happened, he bent over slightly, and proceeded to pull it over his head, and off his arms.

He casually let it drop to the floor, another flick of his head and his hair loosely settled about his shoulders. He turned again, and took a step in your direction, raising his hands to clasp behind his head, elbows wide apart.

\"You should have more lights on. Darkness like this is just bad for the eyes.\" He teased, the glow from the computer screen giving his skin a soft blue hue, his muscles prominently outlined by this mixture of light and shadow. He let his chest and tight abdominal muscles twitch and dance slightly, absent of freckles or hair, seeming unnatural from your angle, just for a moment.

\"Not enough skin? Well, that works rather well with me. I need a change anyway.\" He seemed to practically purr. He took another step closer to you, his hands drawing away from his hair, thumbs moving from his temples, slowly downwards, and along his jaw line till they meet. His eyes slide closed as he tilts his head back slowly, letting his thumbs pressed together, slide down his throat, only separating to go around his Adams apple, to the soft point in his collar bone.

His fingers spread out like the feathers of a bird, crossing over each other, and grasping his shoulders for a moment. He drew them down a little ways then, pulling them down along his chest and back over each other just before his belly. His hands turned then, fingers turning to point downwards. He let them flutter downwards over his belly, and crosses over his waistline. Further down, over his thighs, his head lifting and looking at you through half closed eyelids, fingers pausing, hair hanging around his head, curtaining half his face.

He said nothing, just flashing a sexy smile before his hands came back up again, pressing up the inside of his thighs, until his hands met and rubbed hard, upward, over his crotch. A soft moan escapes his lips, breaking the silence of the room. His hair completely curtained around his face as his fingers reached his waistline again.

He took his pretty little time with his thin and agile fingers, pulling the button free first, followed by sliding the zipper down, slow enough that you could hear each metal tooth being torn from its predecessor. He pulled the flaps open just enough to reveal the black briefs he wore beneath. However, he didn\'t pull them down. Not just yet. Before he satisfied you, he brought his hand away from the edge of the binding cloth as it had been before, and pressed his hand within his jeans, against the final protection from the outside world.

He reached a little further in and cupped his hand to his soft sac, pressing close, curling his tips up to give himself a little squeeze. His breath caught slightly in his throat, goosebumps dancing over his upper half for a fleeting moment. His fingers remained in some semblance of this position after releasing his sac, scraping up his stiffening member, enticing another moan from his usually silent lips. And then his hand was free, and helping the other pull his jeans down over his hips, and beyond his thighs, to just below his knees.

As he straightened upright again, he managed to free his legs of its entrapment, his foot catching the waistline of the jeans and flicking them away to crumple in a corner somewhere.

He turned, taking a pace or tack,ack, apparently changing his mind about something, and scooting his shirt to join his jeans in the corner. This simple motion of \'laundry tossing\' showing off the muscles he had built upon and the apparent lack of fat on his body.

He strutted back towards you, but stopped, just out of your reach, teasing and taunting in this fashion.

\"Not bad, if I do say so myself.\" He slid a thumb into the elastic of his briefs and pulled them out slightly, just at the hip. \"But I bet you want to see the rest of the show, don\'t you.\" His smile flashes from the loose jumble of his hair. Feral and dangerous. His member lightly outlined against the enclosing threads.

His fingers dip once more, slithering under the elastic, pushing outwards lightly, before shimmying them down, and revealing the last of his previously secret flesh, and partial erection. A bit more movement and soon his last article of clothing followed along with the rest.

His eyes, seeming to be black in the dim illumination, sparkled with a cold and nightmarish light as he looked down upon you, confined and placantly sitting in your little chair, apart from one world and dwelling in another. Himself, strong and tough as nature intended him to be. A hunter, of many things. Here, just to please you, for one night, and one night alone.

\"More? You see what I have here and want more?\" He laughed. \"Alright.\" He agreed simply.

His hands rose again, mirroring each other in the strange dance of attention and stimulation, marching up his abdomen and chasing around his chest, taking the scenic route around to finally settle, one hand each, to his nipples. His fingers simply paused there, staring at you a moment longer, before he closed his eyes and lifted his chin slightly.

Fingers began with soft circular motions, his tongue washing over his lips a moment before he takes it up, pinching and twisting, drawing out a soft sigh and an extra order of goosebumps. The display was comparatively short however, as his attention span waned away, and back to previous actions. Perhaps it would have lasted longer if his tongue was agile as the rest of his body.

His hands shortly cupped around his sac and member again, pulling them up and forwards slightly, thrusting his hips forwards and drawing his shoulders back, emphasizing his gender, rather proudly it seemed. His haunting laugh that arose with this action whittled down into a moan as his thumbs broke away from the formation and rubbed over the head of his shaft, enticing the flesh to stiffen further.

He broke away from his posturing and showy stances for a momeninkiinkies curling around and tightly squeezing his balls, the rest of his fingers reaching up to spread points of heat and sensation over himself in a seemingly random gesture. Moving like ants that have lost their way.

\"Ahh..\" His fingers solidified together again, finally halting their mirrored movements. The left took the lower position, to rotate and fondle his sac, as the right tightly wrapped around his shaft, thumb in the head, and began to pump. And none too lightly either. His resulting purr almost gave his chest a visual vibration as his head dropped back more, hair hanging loosely behind him now.

He knew you\'re eyes were riveted on him, as he sank to his knees, almost within your reach, splendidly bending himself backwards so the screen you had previously cared so much over was now only lighting his hands, genitals and abs. His fingers clenched, and made sure you had the best angle to perceive his self stimulation quite well.

\"Would you like some of this?\" He panted out softly, about as hard as he could be, the head of his shaft glistening slightly with a few drops of precum, his hands slipping away, letting the muscle stand free for your attention. \"Oh come now,\" He breathed whisperingly, \"You know you want to.. And there are a few things I simply cant do alone.\"

He pulled himself upright, pressing close, kissing your temple. Despite the cool appearance your computer screen gave him, his body was warm, perhaps even edging towards hot, as he stroked his finger up under your chin, tilting it back, and kissing your lips, before whispering once again. \"Come get me.\"

Before you can even so much as risk a finger, he\'s departed from you again, away, hands slapping on his rear and squeezing, tearing another moan from his lips as he struts out the door and off to find your bed.

-End-