Gay Time Fantasy
My tub’s filling with hot, steamy water. I’m nude, hot, horny, and dreaming of getting an early start tomorrow, so I can get home to my main man all the more quickly, all while flipping through my e-mail, at my desk, black silk robe open, showing off my—even if I have to say it myself, muscular thighs. My sac sits on silk, and my cock’s nested, rested and raring to go when I get to the photos my love has sent to me.
I arrange photo shoots for small mags. Today’s teeny-tiny-teeny-bopper glossy wasn’t up- and-coming, wasn’t even wobbling. And me, I’m used to stuff going wrong. Models—they can be childish. Teen models…ouch, they’re still kids, themselves. So, make that, childish squared. But today’s been a ball of fiascos.
I need soothing. Tea’s a start. Liquor’s for later. But for now… Ah…
There he is.
Photo one; that cute Roman page-boy haircut he wouldn’t change for anyone, but me, and I won’t let him, baby-powder-petal-pink chest, so smooth and lickable, I feel my nipples thicken along with my cock, just looking at it.
His jeans are bulging and he’s got a drink in one hand. Long day, was it, baby? The caption reads.
Does this help? Large font, plain background, nothing else—and then the next photo appears.
Now he’s got nothing on but white briefs. A roaring fire appears to lick his ass the way I want to, from behind. The last time I fucked that ass, I close my eyes and feel his hips on my hands, feel his ass cheeks pump into me, how they buck, and the wonderful tightness of his hole.
I’m sweating and this close to coming, wondering if I’ll make it into the tub, if I should even look at the last shot before I get in, or save it for after. I’m a glutton. I look.
My man, totally nude, still appearing to offer me a drink, I gawk, forever inspired by the carved definition of that Greek-statue-torso, the beautiful dimensions of that perfect-sized pink prick of his.
Fuck, it’s the damn doorbell.
Its hours later and he’s come, I’ve come. Baby’s on his belly, like a pink and white flamingo, gorgeously nude. I pad back to my desk, sex-sated. And that’s when I notice the note. It’s there, after the last shot.
It says; I couldn’t wait for tomorrow. I’ll be at the door. Come and get me.
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