In Hindsight
In hindsight, it shouldn’t have seemed so weird what happened this morning. Of course, I should have seen it coming the whole time. All along, he’d been getting a little closer to me each day. When I first got here, he was a little standoffish, not responding like I thought he might. But each day, he got a little more bold, a little closer, a little more friendly. I couldn’t quite figure it out what was happening. In hindsight, it was just a perfectly natural progression. He was getting accustomed to me being around. Though probably just normal for him, what I walked in on this morning was just a little more personal than I had expected.
It was about eight o’clock and I was finished reading the paper and wondered where he was. It was early for a eighteen-year old, but late for the rest of the world. Though I was still in just my boxers and shirtless, I thought I’d peek in to see if he was still sleeping.
I crept over to his door and slowly turned the doorknob. I’d used WD-40 on all the knobs and hinges in the house earlier in the week, so I wasn’t surprised when it didn’t squeak.
The knob turned almost all the way open and I pushed in slightly. The door opened about a half an inch and I peered in.
He was laying on top of the covers of the bed, naked as the day he was born, his teenaged erection in his right hand, massaging his balls with his left, eyes closed, mouth agape, chest heaving in heavy thoughts of rapture and sex. He hadn’t noticed any intrusion.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t close the door. I couldn’t make a peep. I couldn’t move. I just stood there staring at this boy having his own way with himself. And it seemed like he was enjoying it in a big way.
Though he was eighteen in years and had a young boyish appearance in his face, his nearly hairless chest was fully defined with rippling muscles earned from miles in the pool. Blond hairs reached down his forehead, brushing softly in front of his closed eyes. Laying there, he looked taller than his five foot, seven inch frame actually was, and I still couldn’t move.
Mesmerized. Dazed. Entranced. I watched his right hand tenderly moving up and down, the light purple head of his six inch penis bulging slightly with each unhurried movement; he was lost in a daydream I could only imagine and I still couldn’t move.
His breathing got slightly heavier as his left continued to gently squeeze first his right testicle, then his left, then again the right, then the left in deliberate fashion. His legs slowly spread apart, his chest heaved deeper, his right hand started to move almost unnoticeably faster. I watched in total amazement.
Gradually, his pace picked up and I could tell he was close. I very much wanted to back up and close the door, but could not get my body to move and continued to watch.
He moaned slightly, he sucked in a huge breath, then suddenly huge spurts of cum shot out of his erection hitting his chin, his cheek, and shoulder. Then another huge spurt of cum shot out and hit his face again. I couldn't believe the volume of semen. Then another and another, then yet another huge shot of cum hit his chest, and bubbled out down his fingers and palm.
“Now,” I heard him murmur. I instantly closed my eyes and held my breath.
“I can watch you,” he whispered sheepishly.
I unclenched my eyes slowly.
He was still laying there. He was covered in his own semen. It was running down his cheek, down his shoulder, his arm. His right hand was dripping.
Wow, I said to myself. I couldn’t believe how much he’d pumped out.
I felt the sting of his stare on me. Then unconsciously, I felt my head nodding and felt my body float towards him.
I lay down next to him, never letting my eyes from his stare. He just lay there quietly. I watched as his right hand hover over his own belly and glide over to mine.
He let it hang there. His cum dripped down to a form a larger drop at the end of his fingers which a moment later, splashed on to my chest. Another fell to my navel. Another to my hip. And another. And another.
I watched his fingers fall to my skin. He touched me and I gasped; his fingers wet with his semen. He flattened his hand and polished my stomach muscles in a circular motion, smearing his juice.
I felt myself going hard. I wasn’t sure if the hole on the front of my boxers would hide it or whether it would come poking out.
I have to admit, I was a little scared. Apprehensive of what was next.
He turned to lie on his side. Peripherally, I could see his erection losing steam. It flopped around a little as he turned.
His looked again at me and made that motion with his eyes. The eye motion I was fearing. His eyebrows flexed upward and he turned his stare to my now raging erection.
It was so strange. I felt like I was in slow motion. It was almost an out of body experience. I watched as he slowly sat up and pulled my boxers down to my thighs. Then they were at my knees. Then they were dangling at my ankles. And suddenly, we were both naked.
I felt my right arm lift and felt my right hand wrap itself around my penis. Felt my left arm lift. Felt the fingers on my left hand massaging my balls. And never took my eyes off of him as he watched with a odd fascination. Felt my penis getting even harder. Felt my right hand start to stroke it in the same unhurried pace I’d just witnessed.
It was about eight o’clock and I was finished reading the paper and wondered where he was. It was early for a eighteen-year old, but late for the rest of the world. Though I was still in just my boxers and shirtless, I thought I’d peek in to see if he was still sleeping.
I crept over to his door and slowly turned the doorknob. I’d used WD-40 on all the knobs and hinges in the house earlier in the week, so I wasn’t surprised when it didn’t squeak.
The knob turned almost all the way open and I pushed in slightly. The door opened about a half an inch and I peered in.
He was laying on top of the covers of the bed, naked as the day he was born, his teenaged erection in his right hand, massaging his balls with his left, eyes closed, mouth agape, chest heaving in heavy thoughts of rapture and sex. He hadn’t noticed any intrusion.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t close the door. I couldn’t make a peep. I couldn’t move. I just stood there staring at this boy having his own way with himself. And it seemed like he was enjoying it in a big way.
Though he was eighteen in years and had a young boyish appearance in his face, his nearly hairless chest was fully defined with rippling muscles earned from miles in the pool. Blond hairs reached down his forehead, brushing softly in front of his closed eyes. Laying there, he looked taller than his five foot, seven inch frame actually was, and I still couldn’t move.
Mesmerized. Dazed. Entranced. I watched his right hand tenderly moving up and down, the light purple head of his six inch penis bulging slightly with each unhurried movement; he was lost in a daydream I could only imagine and I still couldn’t move.
His breathing got slightly heavier as his left continued to gently squeeze first his right testicle, then his left, then again the right, then the left in deliberate fashion. His legs slowly spread apart, his chest heaved deeper, his right hand started to move almost unnoticeably faster. I watched in total amazement.
Gradually, his pace picked up and I could tell he was close. I very much wanted to back up and close the door, but could not get my body to move and continued to watch.
He moaned slightly, he sucked in a huge breath, then suddenly huge spurts of cum shot out of his erection hitting his chin, his cheek, and shoulder. Then another huge spurt of cum shot out and hit his face again. I couldn't believe the volume of semen. Then another and another, then yet another huge shot of cum hit his chest, and bubbled out down his fingers and palm.
“Now,” I heard him murmur. I instantly closed my eyes and held my breath.
“I can watch you,” he whispered sheepishly.
I unclenched my eyes slowly.
He was still laying there. He was covered in his own semen. It was running down his cheek, down his shoulder, his arm. His right hand was dripping.
Wow, I said to myself. I couldn’t believe how much he’d pumped out.
I felt the sting of his stare on me. Then unconsciously, I felt my head nodding and felt my body float towards him.
I lay down next to him, never letting my eyes from his stare. He just lay there quietly. I watched as his right hand hover over his own belly and glide over to mine.
He let it hang there. His cum dripped down to a form a larger drop at the end of his fingers which a moment later, splashed on to my chest. Another fell to my navel. Another to my hip. And another. And another.
I watched his fingers fall to my skin. He touched me and I gasped; his fingers wet with his semen. He flattened his hand and polished my stomach muscles in a circular motion, smearing his juice.
I felt myself going hard. I wasn’t sure if the hole on the front of my boxers would hide it or whether it would come poking out.
I have to admit, I was a little scared. Apprehensive of what was next.
He turned to lie on his side. Peripherally, I could see his erection losing steam. It flopped around a little as he turned.
His looked again at me and made that motion with his eyes. The eye motion I was fearing. His eyebrows flexed upward and he turned his stare to my now raging erection.
It was so strange. I felt like I was in slow motion. It was almost an out of body experience. I watched as he slowly sat up and pulled my boxers down to my thighs. Then they were at my knees. Then they were dangling at my ankles. And suddenly, we were both naked.
I felt my right arm lift and felt my right hand wrap itself around my penis. Felt my left arm lift. Felt the fingers on my left hand massaging my balls. And never took my eyes off of him as he watched with a odd fascination. Felt my penis getting even harder. Felt my right hand start to stroke it in the same unhurried pace I’d just witnessed.
posted by Hang Man at 9:30 AM
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