He looked up and met my gaze, and I could almost feel the heat between us. I stepped closer and reached out to trace the sharp lines of his jaw—he had a face that screamed to be kissed. Heat flooded me and I knew I had to have him. His smirk said he felt it, too. I wanted to explore him, and I was ready for his pleasure.
Browsing: Art
He’s my muse, the one who inspires all my fantasies. I stare into his selfie, eyes tracing his body hungrily and my flesh tingles in anticipation. With each image, my mind wanders into a vivid universe of hedonistic pleasure. His selfies ignite a fiery cascade of desire that electrifies my blood, and I’m overcome with the aching, throbbing longing to make those fantasies real.
A hot boy’s self-taken selfie is like an invitation into his secret stash of saucy fantasies. With a close-up of his perfectly chiseled face and rock-hard body, it’s impossible to resist that irresistible urge to enter the hot boy’s boudoir and experience his heady carnal desire.
He stood there, tall and handsome, his perfectly sculpted body, defined by a tight white t-shirt. His jaw was masculine and chiseled and his eyes, they were so beautiful – two big blue pools of desire that I could not resist. His full lips made me crave for their taste and his smile promised a night of pure erotic pleasure.
The room was filled with the musky scent of our sweat, as I caressed and whispered my way across his muscled body. His lips parted as I kissed him deeply, exploring the delicious contours of his skin with my fingertips. I followed the ribbed contours of his abs to the arch of his neck, delighting in his moans of pleasure.
The morning sun shone through my window, and I silently admired the silhouette of his muscular body against the sheer curtain. His beauty filled me with desire, as his hands moved provocatively against his defined abs. His selfies had given me an even more heightened sense of arousal, and I dreamt of a night of uninhibited pleasure.
He trembled as the pool of ecstasy beneath him expanded. His body, like a string wrapped around a canvas covered in canvas cloth, enveloped him. Its warmth flooded his senses, until only the pulling sensation of desire remained. The twink felt physical pleasure, as his insides burned with the anticipation of what might come. He gasped, as his body flooded with the bloom of ecstasy.
Sweat trickled from his flawless youth, his body trembling as he was taken in public. Back on the pool deck, I felt the tension in my chest and my loins burning. His tight body pressed against mine and I thrust into him. I could hear moans coming from his lips, feel him shatter beneath me, pushing me deeper. In that moment, a fire was lit that would never be put out.
The locker room bristled with excitement. I stripped off my jersey and pulled down my pants, revealing my erection. He stared, hungrily, and I knew it was time to pitch. With a touch so light, he caressed my torso before our mouths met; and in the steamy shower, I sealed the deal. My coach had taught me the ropes – now I was ready to score.
He moaned and shivered as I entered him. His tight hole grew and clamped around me, as his moans descended into guttural growls of pleasure. He filled with cum and it spilled from his tight hole in long strings of white, falling onto the bed, dripping like rain. I could feel the heat of his desire and pleasure coursing through my veins, and I was lost in it.