He slides his white medical pants right down and steps out of them but he keeps his gown on for some reason. I think he might just have an eye for the erotic detail, I don’t know. It is blindingly white, and frames his chest perfectly.
He steps away from me now, his fine fat cock swinging to each hip as he stands, and he reaches for the shower, setting it running until we gaze in adoration at each other through curtains of steam. And he takes my hand, and he holds me tight, and we step inside onto tiling that would hold ten men, if we had such a team, but which now gives us all the space we might need, and for whatever we wish to enjoy.
The black silk of his tie and the first three buttons of his shirt are undone before he opens the bathroom cabinet. The shirt is off and to the floor as he gives the cream to Reid. He stands closer. He stands far too close. There are no words Reid can say. Bounced in thirty seconds into touching the huge iron chest of a total stranger, and within a minute to the nipples that crown those pecs, his thumbs rubbing them to stiff peaks as the suncream highlights their tips.
Morrison, on the tape, intrigues me. Circling, his own eyes drawn repeatedly to the muscle curves of Aksoy’s body as it shimmers beneath the embroidered olive linen of the robe. We do not have the advantage of the Metropolo’s scanning technology here. But I can look where he looks, and work it out for myself.
Aalvo catches my eye, smiles, and winks. Tonight I’d choose Aalvo. His hair is sharp, brushed beautifully to the left, his gaze dark and penetrating, and like his brother his pecs are hanging crags above the concave muscle plane of his abdomen. They are both so beautiful. I love them very much.
For this is the quiet moment before they fuck me. The moment where we all know every minute of the next hour, and sail gently towards making it manifest. Every look and every lick and every touch and every inch of these boys inside my body seems as written in the stars as could be.
