He couldn’t tear his eyes away. His heart rate sped up as he admired the beautiful nude body on display. Every inch of perfect sculpted flesh begged to be touched, moist lips parted in anticipation. Desires ran wild as he imagined the pleasure of exploring all that skin and flesh for himself. Endless possibilities, endless wonders, all revealed in just one coy look from a hot boy selfie.
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His eyes burned into me as I imagined what it would feel like to have his body pressed up against mine; my fingertips burned as I imagined tracing the contours of his sculpted chest and toned muscles. I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin as I leaned in and licked his delicious lips, my heat and need rising with each erotic motion.
He hungrily eyed the poignant profile photo of his new “friend,” his desires swollen with longing for the stranger. His eyes wondered around the image, down his rugged body and rugged features. He yearned for the curves of his skin and the whisper of his voice in his ear as he lapped up each drop of his sweat, quenching his burning thirst.
Lips dripping with anticipation, I look over my newfound treasure trove: selfie after selfie of sexy, shirtless men begging me to take a bite. Their warm breath ghosting over my neck as I slide my tongue down that muscled chest, tasting the salt of their sweat and the heat of their skin. The sweet taste of selfies driving me wild with desire.
My eyes wander over the tanned, toned perfection of his body like a hot summer day; sweat glistening on the curves of his deltoids, rustling of polyester as he shifts in bed with a languid flip of calf. His hands, holding his phone, tease an invisible pleasure deep within me, and it’s suddenly so much more than just a picture.
His breathing grew shallow as his eyes glided across the images, going from man to man in a trance, his fingers stroking ever faster. Pulsations sent spirals of pleasure through his body as his joystick grown ever harder. He grunted as the crescendo built, until all his senses exploded in a cosmic burst of joy. It was his own personal pleasure dome, and it was as homoerotic as it was heaven.
He ran his fingers across my bare chest in tantalizing strokes as his gaze lingered hungrily on the reflection caught in the glass. I felt as if the air had shifted, exploding with passionate anticipation as he drew nearer. It was as if I could feel my own arousal in the mirror’s reflection.
He dreamed of exploring every inch of every sensual self he had ever seen, including something new in himself. Hands tracing over curves and lines, the sheer beauty of it all making his body quiver in anticipation of bliss to come. He watched in ecstasy as his hands opened the door to a new realm of pleasure, desire and passion.
His heart raced as his eyes scanned the selflies of hot, naked guys. Swiping feverishly, he felt he couldn’t take any more. But he wanted it. He wanted it bad. He felt his loins heat up, as he wondered what each picture meant. He wanted to feel the closeness of their bodies, to experience the energy, passion and love; to immerse himself in an erotic fantasy.
He held the frame in his hands and before he even realized it felt himself aching for that perfect body, imagining the smoothness of his skin, and tingling with the eagerness of exploring every inch with the tip of his tongue. He was under the spell of that delicious canvas of male beauty and erotically charged longing.