He wakes up from a dream, slick with sweat, his heart thudding in his chest. He turns to his phone and opens his selfie folder, slowly scrolling through pictures of dream boys. He could almost get lost in their eyes, their toned physiques sending his arousal racing through his veins. “Such beautiful boys,” he thinks, lost in a fantasy of seduction.
Browsing: #sexting
He loved the way they stared back at him, eager for the exchange of secret, homoerotic desires. He wanted to replace their digital selfies with mutual, intimate kisses and bare flesh quivered with anticipation. The thought of it all made his heart race and his mouth water.
Sitting in the shadowy corner of my bedroom, I perused the steamy selfies of these barely clothed, sexy guys that flooded my screen. My mind raced with possibilities, my heart raced with anticipation at the thought of what my stories could be. I couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities of these guys, and each image aroused me in a deeper, more tantalizing way. I was entranced in a world of my own erotic fantasies, and I wanted to share it.
He sent me a selfie of his buff body, his piercing eyes and that devilish grin. I wanted him, I wanted to touch every inch of him. I wanted to hear him moan and tap the depths of my soul. I followed him home and we made love in a way that only the two of us could; deepening our connection of gay love and lust.
Desperately, I pulled my hood up and pressed my back against the wall in a feverish panic. A huge cock shot ripped through the air, sending tremors of pleasure down my spine. I gritted my teeth and reached down to fondle myself, silently begging for more. Every nerve in my body lit up electrified, as I slowly released my inhibitions, reveling in the public pleasure I was taking.
He lay there, divinely still, his cock erect, mesmerized as his hands roamed, exploring every inch of his body while his eyes feasted on the nude, searingly-hot selfies of the hottie he had matched with earlier. Lost in rapture, he incited a symphony of pleasure as he stroked himself to the same rhythm of the man on the other side of the screen. This ritual of solo lust was as alluring as Salinger’s prose.
My breath catches when I look at his picture, his big dick standing proudly as he snaps the selfie. His eyes twinkle and I feel my stomach flutter. His thick, veiny shaft is the stuff of every gay man’s fantasy. All I can think about is getting my lips around it, licking every inch and savoring every drop of his hot cum.