He pressed his phone’s screen, its soft glow reflecting in his eyes as he undressed. Under his alluring gaze, camera-savvy, he knew how to pose, teasingly, incitingly, and sensually. He wanted his selfie to express self-love in its homoerotic glory and his muscled body to shine in all its glittering splendour. The click of the button completed the masterpiece. Ah, what a beautiful, taboo pleasure!
Browsing: #SelfPortraits
I could never resist the siren call of the mirror selfie- its shared secrets between me and the image of sublime male youth, beyond the touch of time or the humanness of experience. His body has become the tangible expression of a forgotten sensual desire, one that was explored in the solarium of my own head. I stand within this sacred space– my fingertips lightly grazing his photo-smooth skin, and my breath escapes in waves of longing. And yet, I find myself inside his dream– my own almost forgotten past awakening.
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.
Sweaty jock selfies fill me with a heady mix of yearning and delight, their hard, tanned, glistening musculature a hot invitation to daydreams of passionate man-on-man seductions. I’m lost in an edenic fantasyland of tight pecs, broad shoulders, and tight, bubble butts. The promise of sheer and utter pleasure to come.
My gaze lingered on the screen, captivated by alluring curves, the glimmer of pure, searing heat emanating from the seductive half-smile; the sinful temptation of the open collar, waiting to be explored. His selfie: a siren song of sexual potential and desire.