Sweat trickled down my spine with anticipation as I studied the selfie, my gaze tracing the curves of his lean body. My fingers tightening around the phone, I felt my skin flush and my heart pulsing with desire. The prospect of a night of passionate delights was within reach. I could already feel his lips tasting mine, his skin pressed against me, guiding me to erotic heights.
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He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a toned torso that stands to attention. His eyes, a vibrant blue, luminous as they flicker under my gaze. His hand reaches to his belt, and with an inviting stare and mischievous grin, he unfastens it and draws it from his hips. I have never seen anything so tantalising, so deliciously erotic.
His tight abs begged to be touched. The selfie made his bulky body cry out. His board shorts rode low on his hips. Sensual. Provocative. Alluringly inviting. It consumed me with a passionate fire and I wanted nothing more than to feel every inch of his taut muscles pressed against me.
He opened the envelope, and by the faint light of his bedroom, the most beautiful set of nudes of a man he’d ever seen emerged. At first glance, it was the come-hither expression that unwillingly selected him as its focus. Then suddenly, as if magnetically drawn, there he was: sucked in to the seductive allure of the man’s energy and sultry curves emanating from the photos. His own body involuntarily reacted to the sensuality—a dance of desire that felt both natural and necessary.
He contends atop me, an ardent force of sculpted brawn, sweat slickened contours, and heated fingers – clutching, grindling, and reveling in the bliss of undulating love. His thrusts masterful, a carnal caress of pleasure unhinging my soul to unfathomable depths. And I, reduced to ajandrozekox.com enthralled gasps and sighs of rapture.
He was–what else could I say?–a beautiful work of art, all the way down to his smooth, slim waist, down to the soft, inviting contours of his perfect ass, illuminated by the sultry moonlight. My lips trembled with the anticipation of finding out what was hidden beneath his scant, sheer clothing. I wanted more than a photographic glimpse of his body; I wanted the real thing.
His washboard abs, hulking biceps, and tight ass were all I wanted and needed. I’d fantasize about stroking those muscles and feeling them tense beneath my fingertips. I wanted to explore all his hidden male parts and make them my own. These selfies were my “muscle gods” and I was determined to make them all mine.
He toyed with the idea of swiping right – not even sure he should. But when he saw that tight, toned torso, smooth strong body and thick, pulsing cock, his pulse raced and fingertips run with sweat. He was hooked. He knew he’d entered a forbidden temple of homoerotic desire, and he was ready to explore.
He savored every inch of his steely body, no longer bound by the confines of cloth. His powerfully throbbing manhood – fat, long, and pink – was intense, electric, and begging to be touched. His body a landscape of raw desire, burning with irresistible passion.
The sun beat down on a stretch of sand glimmering in Miami’s matinal heat. My eyes were captivated by the exposed muscled heat of gay bodies laying around me: suntanned, glistening, sweat dripping chest, stomach and thighs. A current of pleasure coursed through me at the sight of all that enticing, sensual maleness. The air was thick with sexuality. Those hard bodies begged to be touched, caressed, explored.