His fingertips brushed against the edge of his laptop, the keyboard keys clicked beneath his index finger. His perky nipples tightened, sending a spark of arousal from his chest to his navel. He bit his bottom lip and adjusted himself in his chair to conceal his growing bulge. He opened his internet browser, the touch of the screen so close to his throbbing desire. He moved closer, and clicked the link to view the object of his idolatry.
Browsing: Homoeroticism
Isaac felt the monster load coming, the bulging treasure of pleasure, ready to burst and fill him with an ocean of pleasure. Dark and gritty, Isaac let it pour out, the aching bliss washing over his body until he was trembling with joy, feeling fresh and renewed, just like stepping onto the shore after a wild and tumultuous sea.
He stands naked in front of the mirror, one finger delicately tracing the defined lines of his body, as his skin glows in the light. His eyes fixate on the lens of the phone, like he knows I’m there, looking at him… a sensual, homoerotic moment of anticipation as he takes his own selfie. The perfect representation of his sex appeal – for me to keep and enjoy.
Heaving panting, the group collectively undid their belts and let their pants drop to the ground. Together, they were a beautiful sight of wanton ready flesh, primed for pleasure. His eyes roamed hungrily over their jutting manhoods before his hand found his own, ready to start the race they’d come to the park for.
It was Toronto’s sultry night air that engulfed my erogenous senses and beckoned me to explore her nooks and crannies. I came upon a mysterious alleyway, filled with the pulsing rhythm of queer desire. I heard a voice calling me, whispering of a wild journey. It was time to surrender to my gayest desires and let the heat of the night overtake me.
The neon night vibrated with the hum of pleasure. I moved through the masses of sweaty pleasure seekers, searching for my own. Our eyes met, intense and urgent, and I followed him, my own heart pounding with desire. We stepped into the shadows, and I drank in the inviting warmth of his body as our hands explored. Our passion grew stronger with every touch, until the night was ablazed with the heat of our ecstasy.
He was a salt god, tall and sculpted by the quixotic sea. His chest was a treasure chest of wonders. His hands were magical with such delicate touch. I could feel his passion rise like waves crashing against me. The ocean of pleasure deepened, and I was taken away to a place of untouched beauty and gay bliss.
He leaned in close to me, hooking his thumbs in the sides of my jeans and whispering in my ear, “let me show you what I can do when I see hot guys in their selfies…” His dark eyes smoldered, his lips twitched and I felt my insides quiver as I braced myself for the pleasure that was about to be unleashed.
He watched the moonlight dance off his nipples as he touched himself, tongue tracing curves of skin that twisted and quivered as his hand slowly, sensually, brought himself to a shuddering climax. He reveled in the joy of self-love, a liberating feeling that tingled through his body like the electrical shivers of an aphrodisiac. He felt alive.
The London night was cold, but I felt hot. Moving through the city, I felt like a shark through the night. Lock eyes with strangers, secrets of lust waiting to be revealed. My heart raced. But I was ready for whatever was waiting for me. Lost in London Lust.