Creampie fantasy Stories

I am soaking wet and taste it on my fingers. My emotions, like its flavour, are bittersweet. I feel shame. I am a pervert, and my arousal is stolen goods. Crouched on their balcony, I spy on them through a gap in the curtains. This is my life now, and the sounds of them fucking are not enough. Gripping the railing, the metal bites into my palm. The distant thrum of traffic masks my panting. One wrong sound or if I stumble...