Erotica?

He looked through the window as he had so many times before. The first time he dared to take such a risk, he promised himself it would be a solitary experience. One peak would surely quench his curiosity. Instead, what he saw had inspired fascination. His enthrallment quickly gave way to obsession. There were promises that must be kept, things that must be done. He had responsibility. Others’ lives depended on him. There should be nothing that would cause him pause in his duties. There should be nothing so alluring that he would be willing to risk the survival of his wife, of his children. If he were capable of guilt, he was sure he would be filled to overflowing. As it was, the probability of the starvation of his offspring gave him only the minutest pause; he turned his eyes back to the warm glow through the pane.
He took in the sparks flickering in clustered groupings around the room. Each spark represented potential death, potential torment. It seemed, in this place they were tamed, controlled. At least for the moment. The thrill of danger, of complete consummation by flame whirled in his stomach and sent shots of pleasure through his groin. His breath shortened to a pant. The glass hazed briefly as his nose made contact. He pulled away and shook himself. He wanted the moment to last. It must last. At times, he could witness this display many times between the rising and the setting of the sun. However, it had been so long that he had nearly forgotten some of the sensations that this observation would ensue within him. He thought he had seen these same sparks the previous evening as he glanced out his home and into this bewitching universe. His wife, sensing something unfamiliar in her mate, blocked his way and offered her the distraction only she could provide. He thrust with thoughts of flame, steam, and heat filling his head.
More than hearing, he sensed the vibrations making their way to the window sill. It was if all the birds in the trees were singing at the same time, the breeze blowing an accompanying harmony, and locust chanting deafeningly overhead. His eyelids widened as the creatures inside began to move with the rhythm of the vibrations. He had seen others of these beings many times, but none in the way the two in front of him displayed themselves habitually. The movements reminded of the disappointing distraction of the night previous, only instead of inspiring visions of escape they drew him in, bringing with them sensations he was incapable of expressing.
The tan skins of the bodies glistened in the presence of the captivating fires. As they moved to the rhythms, the lights shimmered across their naked bodies, bringing to his mind the sun playing over the ripples across the pond. The pond. He should be there now. He should be ensuring the survival of his family, not watching these bodies entering each other.
Bodies. His attention captured yet again by the swaying, twisting, and plunging in front of him. This time, vibrations were accompanied by sound. It sounded like pain, like desperation, like trying to stay alive. Indeed the mouths making the sounds looked as if death were upon them. His eyes traced the faint red lines left behind as they clawed each others’ backs, arms, and chests.
Lust reached his nostrils. It was a scent he knew, but this was distorted somehow. Its tang more musk and spice than those of his experience.
As they cried out and fell against each other trembling, he felt his body tighten. Release. Nearly causing him to loose his balance at the window.
The mouths only moments before calling out in agony now found each other and explored depths unseen.
He shook himself off and tore his gaze away from the scene. Maybe he could relive the moment the following day. He rubbed his face into his grey tail, trying to clear his mind. He plunged down from the window ledge, scampered across the lawn and picked up an acorn in his teeth before he reached his tree. He slowly made his way up the bark, trying to return his breathing to normal. Outside the hole’s entrance, he glance back at the amber glow still beckoning him. With one final shrug he entered, hoping the singular acorn would be enough to tide over the incessant chattering of his wife. If only he could experience the subdued fire, the glistening making its way down smoothness, the near death that brought pain and trembling. If only. . .