His gaze swept over the taut muscles of his tight torso, loaded with sinew and strength. Fire raced through his veins as his mouth watered with desire. With each click of the camera, he’d capture the image of another hunk in all his glory. Passion and pleasure blazed like white-hot fire within him.
Browsing: selfies
He kissed me like his life depended on it, his breath hot and full of need. Up close and under the moonlight, his nude body was breathtaking; his skin smooth and inviting. My heart raced with desire as his lips brushed mine, our clothing forgotten, as if it never existed. This was our secret, our passionate, intimate renewal of queer connection.
He lay back, mesmerized by the selfies of seduction. His heart pounded as his body thrummed with desire. His fantasies burst into reality, calling out for something that only another man with a body as perfect as his could give. His longing was palpable. A taste of forbidden pleasure beckoned.
I’ve taken so many selfies, for some of them I’ve been shirtless and it feels like I’m creating a hot little catalogue of my body–every curve, crevice, and kissable area captured for my eyes only. As I capture these moments of bruisable beauty, I become lost in the emotion of pure gay lust and I’m reminded of why I adore our sexuality.
He was the definition of perfection; from his full lips and flawless, freckled skin to the sensual curve of his butt in that tight pair of jeans. At the sight of his selfie, I gasped in delight. I longed to experience the pleasure of being desired by him. My mind and my body ached with the thrilling and naughty anticipation.
My pulse raced as I slid my fingers over the smooth texture of the soft screen, revelling in the images of alluringly beautiful boys. Each selfie made me pause, my libidinous adoration almost palpable as I felt my desire for the beautiful males before me, wishing to feel our naked bodies entwined in passionate homoerotic lust.
He looked at the perfect photo: eyes like the sea, sun-kissed skin, a rakish smirk that promised so much more. His desire grew with each passing second, and so did his resolve. He had to reach out and make a connection, to taste that sweet, intoxicating passion, so sensual and forbidden. And, without another thought, he was seduced.
I spread my thighs, letting my hot breath and my fingertips trace the length of my most intimate path, my thoughts drifting off to images of his bulging biceps and teasing smirk from a selfie that he posted. I feel my whole body electrify and melt into pleasure as my fingers begin to circle and stroke, faster and faster.
He felt entranced, his inner lust bubbling over, as his eyes wandered up and down the long statuesque figure as displayed in the jock’s selfie. He thought to himself, ‘I must have him’ and felt his hardness, hot and unyielding, swell inside his jeans. He desperately wanted the jock to feel his heat, his desire, and he knew that when he made his move, something burning and passionate would explode between them.
The heat and promise of his lips when we finally met was electric. His selfie, a window into his soul, planted sensual seeds in my eager, lustful heart innumerable times every day. In the bedroom, his tight body filled with endless passion, the whisper of his breath on my skin igniting my body and soul. Electric. Intimate. Explosive.