I feverishly run my fingertips along the naked body of a dream boy I had been lusting after for days. His perfectly sculpted abs and toned thighs begged for me to touch them, and I eagerly obliged. I can almost feel his heat through the photo as I take in his bulging biceps and lick my lips imagining what our night could bring.
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The self-proclaimed selfies guy had taken me on a path of self discovery; a night of dizzying and delirious ecstasies. Skin slid against skin, our two bodies entwined seeped in sweat, and desire. Lost in each other’s embrace, we shared something that touched beyond our physical connection–something spiritual.
He unlocked his phone, and on the tiny, glowing screen lay a sea of juicy selfies filled with salty beefcake. He licked his lips in anticipation and hungered to dive in – the perfect cocktail of sweat and muscle, all on parade for him to savor. It made his gullet quiver, as he licked his way across each one, until finally, thirst quenched, he slumped in satisfaction.
The sight of a man in skin-tight jeans is enough to make any woman’s heart race. The way they hug every curve and angle of his body and accentuate every inch of his masculinity is wickedly sexy; sending thrills of desire through both the experienced and wide-eyed virgin alike.
The sun peeked through the curtains, inviting warmth as I lay in my bed, a dreamy haze over me. With rapt attention, I scanned the sexy selfie of the dark-haired hunky boy, hovering my thumb over his face, tracing the curve of his lips. My heart raced as my imagination ran wild with hot, steamy fantasies, my desire for him growing with each passing second.