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elrhiarhodanTitle: I Spy (with my little eye)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Christie Brooks, Diana Berrigan, Elizabeth Burke, Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Neal/Peter
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Voyeurism, hand-tool analogies, too much ice tea, self-pleasure, boys being boys, basically, PWP.
Word Count: ~1400
Summary: Diana and Christie are invited to the Burkes’ for a Sunday barbeque; Neal and Peter are busy upstairs, “hanging shelves.” Or are they? Christie finds out.
A/N: No beta. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.
__________________
From Christie’s perspective, one of the best things about Diana’s relocation back to New York was the people. DC was the place the get ahead – it was the national headquarters for the FBI. It was where things happened and careers were made.
It was also cut-throat and dog-eat-dog – every man and woman for themselves. You didn’t get to have your girlfriend’s colleagues over for dinner. You didn’t get invited to barbeques and dinner parties and impromptu get-togethers.
No, when your partner worked in the DC office, she kept her nose to the grindstone, came home exhausted and you did your best to take care of her, despite your own busy career.
Today was the day that Christie lifted her glass of morning OJ in a toast to Diana and said that coming back to New York was the best decision they ever made. They were going to a barbeque at Peter and Elizabeth’s. She didn’t doubt that work would be discussed – because that was just the way of things.
But she knew that Elizabeth Burke would keep that discussion to a minimum, and the oh-so-entertaining Neal Caffrey would be there, without Sara. Diana had mentioned that they had broken up a few months ago. Of course, they remained friends – but they weren’t a couple.
That saddened Christie. Ever the romantic, she mentally catalogued the single female medical professionals she knew – there was Angela, the pediatric cardiologist who was the biggest man eater Christie had ever met. She figured that Neal Caffrey could give her a run for her money. And then there was Olivia, the head nurse on the surgical recovery floor. She was sweet and nice and just might make for a pleasant antidote to the rather take-charge Sara Ellis, lovely that she was.
But she filed those thoughts away until she got a chance to talk with Neal.
The Burkes’ home in Brooklyn was beautiful and homey, just the type of place she hoped to buy with Diana once her residency was finished.
Elizabeth answered the door, shooed the dog away and thanked them for the wine they brought. She led them out to the back, poured each of them tall glasses of iced tea and they relaxed around the small table.
Of course, the first thing her partner asked was, “Where’s Peter?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “He and Neal are upstairs, doing some guy stuff in the guestroom. Fixing shelves, I think. They’ll be down in a little while.”
Diana snorted a laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Neal doing ‘guy’ stuff. He’ll probably hammer his thumb to the wall.”
Elizabeth chuckled too. “Peter just wants the company. Maybe Neal hands him tools or something. Besides, you’d think that Neal would be rather clever with tools, wouldn’t you.”
Diana shrugged. “Yeah – I guess. But ‘Neal Caffrey – handyman’ is not something I can easily process.”
Christie listened to the banter between her partner and Elizabeth (call me El), and took a sip of her tea. She rolled her head back and watched the birds flit across the late afternoon sky. This was paradise.
The two women went silent and Christie looked up. “What?”
Diana was smiling at her. “I can’t remember the last time you looked so relaxed.”
Christie raised an eyebrow. “You can’t?”
And to her delight, Diana blushed. “You know what I meant!”
The three of them talked and drank – El’s iced tea was extremely potent and about her third glass in, she felt the call of nature. She stood to excuse herself and wobbled a bit.
“Bathroom?”
El waved a lazy hand. “Upstairs, to the right.”
The inside of the house was cool, and to her light-blown eyes, dark. She stumbled to the staircase and sighed. Maybe this house wasn’t so perfect – one bathroom, one flight up? But she really had no choice, her bladder was killing her.
She made it to the bathroom, relieved herself, washed up and noticed for the first time a rhythmic noise. It was odd – not like a hammer against a nail. More like… no. No way. Not a chance.
She toed off her sandals and tiptoed out of the bathroom, following the sound deeper into the house. The door at the end of the hall was shut, but there was light coming out of another doorway. She kept close to the wall and peeked in.
It was the sound of something – someone being nailed.
Peter – Diana’s much married and so-in-love-with-his-wife boss – was hammering his cock into Neal Caffrey’s perfect ass. Neal was on his hands and knees and Peter covered him like a dog.
She bit her lip to keep from squealing. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen two guys going at it - Diana had a disturbing penchant for gay porno which she now shared. But this was the first time she’d seen it live, up-close and very personal.
It was hot. Peter Burke was huge, his body long and lean, except for those arms. Even though they shouldn’t have, they turned her on – muscled without being massive, strong, clean lines. Maybe it was seeing them cradling Neal, holding him gently, while his cock pounded into him with anything but gentleness.
And then as she watched, they moved down Neal’s body, clasping his hips, holding his like a vise. There will be bruises there tomorrow.
Christie watched and tried not to reach between her legs, to finger-fuck herself in the same rhythm as Peter’s thrusts into Neal.
But it was the sounds that finally tipped her over the edge. The grunts, harsh and deep. Peter’s as he rammed himself in and pulled himself out, Neal’s as his body accepted the other man’s invasion over and over and over again.
She eased up her skirt and shoved her hand under it, fingers diving into her juicy quim, thrusting and pinching. But she had to take it slow; she didn’t want to alert the two men to her presence. Christie had never thought of herself as a voyeur, getting off on watching others, but this was so hot it made her dizzy with desire.
As she watched and stroked herself, Peter pulled out of Neal and flipped him over. She wondered if he was going to come over Neal like a porn star, but he didn’t. Peter pulled Neal’s legs apart and mounted him like his was a girl. A girl with the most massive dick Christie had ever seen.
Peter hammered into his boy, who was far from a passive partner. One of Neal’s long legs was wrapped around Peter’s waist, the other over his shoulder, practically around Peter’s neck, pulling him closer.
Her fingers up her cunt, seconds from a mind-blowing orgasm and the most irreverent thought crossed her mind. My god, Neal is bendy.
She watched, enraptured, as Peter’s large hand wrapped around Neal’s enormous cock, pulling at it, stroking it, loving it like it was – well – his own dick. Their grunts were louder, like the pair of bulls moose that she had once see go at each other, each thrust was louder, more violent until they both abruptly stopped. Peter bent over and captured Neal’s mouth, kissing him as his hips jerked back and forth in frantic rhythm.
Christie came silently, her wetness coating her hand, and she stumbled back from the doorway. But she couldn’t look away quite yet. Neal and Peter were relaxed, wrapped in each others arms, the sounds of their harsh breathing interrupted only by the moist punctuation of their kisses.
She froze in the shadows as Neal turned his head towards the doorway. Panic gave Christie the urge to flee, but not before she saw Neal wink. At her.
She washed up again, slipped her shoes back on and sniffed at herself. Christie knew she smelled like sex, but short of taking a shower, there was nothing she could do about it.
It amazed her how little time had passed – and yet how much her world had changed. Diana and El were still chatting, and when she sat down, both of them gave her a very strange look. Almost smug.
“Everything all right? Diana wanted to send up a search party.”
She looked at Diana, that smug grin was now a challenge. The little bitch knew exactly what had gone on.
“Everything’s fine, El. I just checked in with Peter and Neal – to see the results of their handiwork. It’s impressive.”
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Christie Brooks, Diana Berrigan, Elizabeth Burke, Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Neal/Peter
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Voyeurism, hand-tool analogies, too much ice tea, self-pleasure, boys being boys, basically, PWP.
Word Count: ~1400
Summary: Diana and Christie are invited to the Burkes’ for a Sunday barbeque; Neal and Peter are busy upstairs, “hanging shelves.” Or are they? Christie finds out.
A/N: No beta. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.
From Christie’s perspective, one of the best things about Diana’s relocation back to New York was the people. DC was the place the get ahead – it was the national headquarters for the FBI. It was where things happened and careers were made.
It was also cut-throat and dog-eat-dog – every man and woman for themselves. You didn’t get to have your girlfriend’s colleagues over for dinner. You didn’t get invited to barbeques and dinner parties and impromptu get-togethers.
No, when your partner worked in the DC office, she kept her nose to the grindstone, came home exhausted and you did your best to take care of her, despite your own busy career.
Today was the day that Christie lifted her glass of morning OJ in a toast to Diana and said that coming back to New York was the best decision they ever made. They were going to a barbeque at Peter and Elizabeth’s. She didn’t doubt that work would be discussed – because that was just the way of things.
But she knew that Elizabeth Burke would keep that discussion to a minimum, and the oh-so-entertaining Neal Caffrey would be there, without Sara. Diana had mentioned that they had broken up a few months ago. Of course, they remained friends – but they weren’t a couple.
That saddened Christie. Ever the romantic, she mentally catalogued the single female medical professionals she knew – there was Angela, the pediatric cardiologist who was the biggest man eater Christie had ever met. She figured that Neal Caffrey could give her a run for her money. And then there was Olivia, the head nurse on the surgical recovery floor. She was sweet and nice and just might make for a pleasant antidote to the rather take-charge Sara Ellis, lovely that she was.
But she filed those thoughts away until she got a chance to talk with Neal.
The Burkes’ home in Brooklyn was beautiful and homey, just the type of place she hoped to buy with Diana once her residency was finished.
Elizabeth answered the door, shooed the dog away and thanked them for the wine they brought. She led them out to the back, poured each of them tall glasses of iced tea and they relaxed around the small table.
Of course, the first thing her partner asked was, “Where’s Peter?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “He and Neal are upstairs, doing some guy stuff in the guestroom. Fixing shelves, I think. They’ll be down in a little while.”
Diana snorted a laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Neal doing ‘guy’ stuff. He’ll probably hammer his thumb to the wall.”
Elizabeth chuckled too. “Peter just wants the company. Maybe Neal hands him tools or something. Besides, you’d think that Neal would be rather clever with tools, wouldn’t you.”
Diana shrugged. “Yeah – I guess. But ‘Neal Caffrey – handyman’ is not something I can easily process.”
Christie listened to the banter between her partner and Elizabeth (call me El), and took a sip of her tea. She rolled her head back and watched the birds flit across the late afternoon sky. This was paradise.
The two women went silent and Christie looked up. “What?”
Diana was smiling at her. “I can’t remember the last time you looked so relaxed.”
Christie raised an eyebrow. “You can’t?”
And to her delight, Diana blushed. “You know what I meant!”
The three of them talked and drank – El’s iced tea was extremely potent and about her third glass in, she felt the call of nature. She stood to excuse herself and wobbled a bit.
“Bathroom?”
El waved a lazy hand. “Upstairs, to the right.”
The inside of the house was cool, and to her light-blown eyes, dark. She stumbled to the staircase and sighed. Maybe this house wasn’t so perfect – one bathroom, one flight up? But she really had no choice, her bladder was killing her.
She made it to the bathroom, relieved herself, washed up and noticed for the first time a rhythmic noise. It was odd – not like a hammer against a nail. More like… no. No way. Not a chance.
She toed off her sandals and tiptoed out of the bathroom, following the sound deeper into the house. The door at the end of the hall was shut, but there was light coming out of another doorway. She kept close to the wall and peeked in.
It was the sound of something – someone being nailed.
Peter – Diana’s much married and so-in-love-with-his-wife boss – was hammering his cock into Neal Caffrey’s perfect ass. Neal was on his hands and knees and Peter covered him like a dog.
She bit her lip to keep from squealing. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen two guys going at it - Diana had a disturbing penchant for gay porno which she now shared. But this was the first time she’d seen it live, up-close and very personal.
It was hot. Peter Burke was huge, his body long and lean, except for those arms. Even though they shouldn’t have, they turned her on – muscled without being massive, strong, clean lines. Maybe it was seeing them cradling Neal, holding him gently, while his cock pounded into him with anything but gentleness.
And then as she watched, they moved down Neal’s body, clasping his hips, holding his like a vise. There will be bruises there tomorrow.
Christie watched and tried not to reach between her legs, to finger-fuck herself in the same rhythm as Peter’s thrusts into Neal.
But it was the sounds that finally tipped her over the edge. The grunts, harsh and deep. Peter’s as he rammed himself in and pulled himself out, Neal’s as his body accepted the other man’s invasion over and over and over again.
She eased up her skirt and shoved her hand under it, fingers diving into her juicy quim, thrusting and pinching. But she had to take it slow; she didn’t want to alert the two men to her presence. Christie had never thought of herself as a voyeur, getting off on watching others, but this was so hot it made her dizzy with desire.
As she watched and stroked herself, Peter pulled out of Neal and flipped him over. She wondered if he was going to come over Neal like a porn star, but he didn’t. Peter pulled Neal’s legs apart and mounted him like his was a girl. A girl with the most massive dick Christie had ever seen.
Peter hammered into his boy, who was far from a passive partner. One of Neal’s long legs was wrapped around Peter’s waist, the other over his shoulder, practically around Peter’s neck, pulling him closer.
Her fingers up her cunt, seconds from a mind-blowing orgasm and the most irreverent thought crossed her mind. My god, Neal is bendy.
She watched, enraptured, as Peter’s large hand wrapped around Neal’s enormous cock, pulling at it, stroking it, loving it like it was – well – his own dick. Their grunts were louder, like the pair of bulls moose that she had once see go at each other, each thrust was louder, more violent until they both abruptly stopped. Peter bent over and captured Neal’s mouth, kissing him as his hips jerked back and forth in frantic rhythm.
Christie came silently, her wetness coating her hand, and she stumbled back from the doorway. But she couldn’t look away quite yet. Neal and Peter were relaxed, wrapped in each others arms, the sounds of their harsh breathing interrupted only by the moist punctuation of their kisses.
She froze in the shadows as Neal turned his head towards the doorway. Panic gave Christie the urge to flee, but not before she saw Neal wink. At her.
She washed up again, slipped her shoes back on and sniffed at herself. Christie knew she smelled like sex, but short of taking a shower, there was nothing she could do about it.
It amazed her how little time had passed – and yet how much her world had changed. Diana and El were still chatting, and when she sat down, both of them gave her a very strange look. Almost smug.
“Everything all right? Diana wanted to send up a search party.”
She looked at Diana, that smug grin was now a challenge. The little bitch knew exactly what had gone on.
“Everything’s fine, El. I just checked in with Peter and Neal – to see the results of their handiwork. It’s impressive.”
