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I knew that what I was doing was wrong--that somehow I was betraying trust with a good friend. But, I also knew that I couldn't help myself—to do so was and still is my nature. But, the solace I have for my shame is that she knows my secret as well. So, when Tik Tik left the main hall of the tavern to take the bar boy up to her room, I knew that the door would be left slightly ajar, perfect for my shameful purpose.

I kneeled right there in the hallway, my face pressed up against the wood. The excited, yet nervous, young man sighed and shuddered through the small crack, but Tik Tik kept herself mostly quiet. Despite this, I could see everything, from his larger, smooth-skin body to the bright pink scaled form of my traveling companion. The two had quickly gotten to it, with the kobold riding his human member as he lay back, nervously holding onto her hips as she muttered hushed directions towards him. She wouldn't look away from her current lover, but I knew, deep down, that she was thinking about how I was watching and hoping to provide me a good show.

How is it that I, the great heroic Cynwrig, can stoop so low? How can I not approach this lovely, intelligent woman as a lover, but instead must watch her and this handsome human male engage in relations? I am a gentlebug, courteous and kind, and yet, here I am, two of my hands upon the wall, supporting my body, while the other two run down along my carapace, teasing down between my thighs, waiting for the moment I could let it out without getting caught. But really, where is the fun in peeping if there isn't the danger?

All my senses become heightened when I am entranced by the actions of others. I notice every little minute pumping of fluids inside my carapace, detect the vibrations of every sound thumping from the floor below, and smell the arousal coming from myself, from the room, and, to my shock, behind me.

I whirled around, quick enough to see the door pull shut, but not all the way. The silence in the hall grew as I contemplated the notion that I had been peeped as I was peeping, and, up until that time, I had only imagined the greatest thrill was in being discovered by those I viewed.

Now, I find the thrill of being the exhibit even more fascinating, even more arousing.

Life's too short to waste on worries. I do not hesitate to vanquish a monster with my flurries of punches, why should I fear someone who enjoys watching me? With that philosophy in mind, I rolled onto my back, looking directly towards the door. One hand holds me up against the wall. Another runs down over an antenna, stimulating the sensitive nerve and then down to my lips, a finger hooking at my mouth as I smile towards the door. The third hand traces along the joints of my shell, while the fourth travels down my carapace and down between my legs, fingers gently stroking down there in between, urging out the member.

The little turquoise length peeks out, shining as it is lubricated with the juices inside me. A quick draft graces my shell, and quiet, yet broken, breaths rise up from beyond the door.

I spread my legs apart, bending my knees just slightly to show how relaxed I was showing off for him… her… it? Who could say? I certainly couldn't, nor did I care. The fingers that coaxed out my little pointed dick ran up along the shaft, and I shuttered, elytra buzzing from the excitement.

The faintest creak of wood showed that my voyeur had shifted, perhaps to get a better look? That's what I would like to think. Either way, I responded by lifting my hips up, planting my heels against the wood as I gasped out just gently. A pearl of pre oozed out from the tip, jiggling in the slight breeze coming from the room beyond. Two hands hold me up, while one tends to my need, the other adding more sensation to my antenna. When I give that antenna nice dainty rubs, there just isn't any sensation quite like it that non-bugfolk could enjoy. Perhaps I would best describe it as someone reaching into your happiness and giving it a nice, naked, full-bodied hug. All your worries just wash away as both partners transfer their worries onto each other. To massage all one's cares from the world, I am sad not all races enjoy this pleasure.

My display must have gone appreciated by my observer, as high-pitched squeaks escaped the room beyond. I almost wished to open that door myself, but no, I understood my watcher. I had been on the other side. All they desired, was more of me.

Taking a deep breath, I steeled my courage to go beyond what I had thought I could do. The fingers down at my shaft slid downward, passing the base to the slit that gave it egress from my squishy interior. With a twitch of my antennae, I prepared for a sensation like no other and finally plunged my fingers inside me.

Penetration… it was something I appreciated in others, but never had I felt it before. The gasping groan that came from my mouth was only silenced by the quick clasping of two of my hands. Of course, I fell back onto the ground as I no longer supported myself, bonking my head on the wood.

The build-up hit me all at once, the head, my fingers, my body, and so I came, squirting little spurts over my shell, making myself nice and sticky.

There, alone in the hall, I groaned, my head throbbing, but feeling as if the pain was totally worth it.

It was a lovely few moments of afterglow before the fear of being caught once again spread over me, but before I could scramble out in embarrassment, the door to my observer's room pushed gently opened, and their beckoning finger drew me inside.