Beautiful Secrets

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(Note. A really light flash fiction I wrote today as a break from the piece I’m working on properly. This was inspired by someone saying to me that male masturbation wasn’t beautiful. I think that is is. Ended up being a little more comic, but that’s OK)

He was so beautiful.

He didn’t see me hiding away in the dark deep of the shadows. He didn’t know that I was there and he never could. He must never know. That I cherished his beauty was my deepest, darkest secret and it cloaked me with shame. My voyeuristic love of watching from a distance as he stroked his cock to climax swallowed me up in self loathing, but I was compelled to do it, and could no more resist the urge to hide myself away and watch his private performance than I could refuse to eat or drink.

He didn’t know that I knew his secret. I could sense the pangs of guilt that stole up on him as he tried so hard not to idly browse to the inevitable dirty websites; they were, afterall the reason he came here alone. If she knew he was sure that his girlfriend would leave him, his parents, he thought, would loathe him, his friends would tease him, his Church ostracise him. He slipped away in secret because he was compelled to, as I was compelled to cloud myself in guilt and watch.

Is it such a sin to bathe in the seas of such a beautiful act?

Guilt faded to resignation, then fired into lust. And as they always did, his eyes and attentions quickly turned away from the illicit pleasures onscreen and fixed themselves firmly onto his own. As I always did, I gaped on in wonder and  watched him undress, a patient, deliberate act that allowed him to savour every second of a moment that might not happen again for another week or two. And I savoured it even more for that. His top came off first, revealing such a glorious expanse of chest, muscle and ripple that looked almost out of place beside his delicately formed feminine features. I sighed as I longed to run my fingers across it and down its slender naked glory, imagining that it was I who skilfully unbuttoned the jeans that were now sensually siding over his perfectly round ass and falling to the floor. Like all men – like myself – he couldn’t keep his eyes from the main prize long, and as I marvelled at the huge bulge I could see stretching its way through his Calvin Kleins, he reached a hand inside and slowly started to fiddle and play with it – as all men do; I deeply regretted that I couldn’t step out from the shadow of my hiding place and help relieve the gigantic tension that had firmly mounted itself in full view..

As he slipped off his underpants and lay back on his bed, thick hard cock held tightly in hand, he rubbed himself off to an intensely satisfying conclusion and it was beautiful.The beautiful twinks came for his pleasure and he had to cum too. It didn’t take him long, a tight grip and a few swift strokes. He cupped his balls and thrust his cock repeatedly into his palm; he jerked and moaned and grunted and as he pleasured his penis the rest of his body writhed wildly, naked and sweating on the sheets. It didn’t take long for hot sticky jet to stream pleasantly from him and cover his chest in a lovely ocean spray of cum. It was my favourite part of the show and I couldn’t persuade myself not to reach down and touch myself as well; a terrible mistake, since on slipping a hand into my trousers my already blisteringly hard cock throbbed in accidental pleasure, and it peaked immediately, squirting streams of goo down the head of my cock, into my pants and over my hand. I couldn’t contain my appreciation for the show vocally either and I squeaked loudly as I shuddered; too late I realised that he’d heard and he started, looking across curiously in my direction.

Feeling drained, sticky and pathetic I was struck by a sudden panic. His beauty had led to this, my secret was to be found out.

He stood up, frightened too, fresh cum glistening on his chest, dripping silently down his still erect shaft and gently onto the floor. He looked cautiously in my direction and I froze, trying not to whimper. Suddenly, without warning, a girl’s voice spoke with authority and sexiness. “That was quite a show. I’m glad I had a ringside seat.”

“Oh my God!” He raced to shut off the PC a reflex action but there was really no point. All had been voyeured, secrets had already been stolen.

“This gets you off does it, lover? How very interesting.” His look of fright didn’t diminish, but her dress dropped briskly to the floor and she strode confidently in her lingerie towards him. “Looks like you need some help with this mess you’ve made.” He thought momentarily that he was off the hook for his actions and had missed what in hindsight was the obvious part of her performance. She glanced across mischievously to the dark place in which I hid and beckoned me towards the light.

“I think all three of us have secrets, don’t we? Come on boys, let’s have some fun together.”

We both looked at her. She was beautiful. She sat on the edge of the bed with a playful look and began to touch herself. Our dark dissipated and our cocks grew monstrously hard.

 

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5 thoughts on “Beautiful Secrets

  1. Pingback: Beautiful Secrets | mastererotica60

  2. Jesus Christ. You’re obsessed with sex. You do realize that if you worship the physical body you are going to die with it, right?

  3. I don’t really understand that comment but I’ve convinced myself somehow that it’s the highest form of compliment, so if I do die, I shall die happy.

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