He steps out of the shower. I can see him from where I’m laying, my head propped on the pillows and the covers pulled snug over my body. He knows I’m there, watching him.
He towels off his body, drying himself slowly in front of the open door. The scent of soap and shampoo travel toward me on the steamy air. He bends as he runs the thick cotton bath towel over his long legs. He turns, displaying his firm ass to me as he does.
He stands straight again and pulls the towel behind him, arching his back as he drags it across his skin. His hips shift forward, and I watch as his beautiful cock shows the signs of coming to life. I cannot help but watch the magical transformation as it grows.
He catches me staring and covers himself playfully, but even the towel can’t hide how much he likes my eyes on his body. I gesture for him to remove the towel. He pulls it aside, and his cock bobs up harder than before.
My eyebrows flash approval as he drops the towel to the floor. He turns and grabs a comb from the counter. He runs it through his dark muss of wet hair.
I cannot see his reflection, but I know he is checking his face in the mirror. He’s so vane for a boy. I know he likes looking at himself as much as I like seeing him.
He turns to face me again and smiles. I smile back and raise an eyebrow, as if to ask “What next?”
He runs his hands over his chest, pausing for a moment to appreciate just how sexy he looks there. His nakedness has captivated us both.
He starts to leave the bathroom, to join me in my bed. I quickly hold my hand up, telling him to stop. He looks confused for just a second, then his smile returns again.
His hands find his body again, lower this time. They brush across his flat stomach then one moves down to his cock. His fingers wrap around it slowly, and he begins gently, patiently sliding his hand along his shaft.
He tugs at it harder, his thumb pulling against that swollen head that I love to tease with my tongue and teeth. I want to feel it now in my mouth, but I don’t dare stop him. His face is too blissful as he catches a peek at himself again.
He spreads his feet wider apart, his toes clenching his towel. He reaches his other hand down to find his balls and that eager spot just behind them.
My own hands disappear discretely beneath the covers, where I keep myself hidden. This is his show not mine.
He doesn’t need to see me any way, only my eyes on him. His vanity in full display, he cannot help but love this moment, this chance to perform, to be ogled, to be enjoyed. His exhibitionism at its most bare, a man pleasing himself by pleasing himself.
His hand continues working his cock, but my eyes drift upward to his face. His chiseled jaw hangs open as his breathing comes in short, deep breaths. His white teeth, bared, gnaw delicately on his soft lips. His eyes blaze with the fire he is churning within himself.
He never looks so hot as when he is about to cum. His usually composed self disappears and the real him shines through – wild and feral. Even as he basks in his own reflection, he cannot keep the brutality of his desire contained.
This is the him that I love. The fierce lover who takes what is his, even now when now when it is only himself beating off.
His head nods slowly, uncontrolled as his chest and arms draw tight. His muscles caught in that agonizing infinity of so-close, so-fucking-close. His eyes focus only on me now. We are two minds locked on this ride his hands and his dick are composing.
His voice cries out as he cums, his neck curling backward as his lungs spew forth with a guttural wail. His hand moves still, his grip as rigid as his dick, until his orgasm finally spills out, cascading on the bathroom tile.
His head lowers, and he watches himself, his cock, unload. He catches himself now, a sudden dose of stage fright come-to-late. He is foolishly embarrassed by having forgotten himself, not knowing that what he has shown me is the him I truly wish to know.
He slowly raises his face toward mine. His face so wilted, so spent.
Too bad, I think. You’re not done yet. I throw back the covers. My index finger beckons him to join me. He slides into the bed beside me. I place my hands on his shoulders and guide him down, pulling the sheets on top of us.
My legs fall open, and his face finds its hiding place. It’s my turn now, and I am ready to enjoy some of his attention.
Ariana Paige is a lifestyle dominant and an author of erotic fiction. She has published four erotic books, which are available on Amazon (FREE for Kindle Unlimited), including the Five Star rated The Houseboy, The Houseboy – Part 2 and Two in the Hand. You can view her Amazon.com author page or find her on Goodreads, Twitter, Facebook and FetLife.