The most obvious one, Pride, you know, that scrawny mincing fairy twink that marches past
with her cheekbones protruding from sucking in her cheeks. That Mary that wont let you touch their hair but will try pull into you any second she gets. She’s a vixen, often tall, totally fierce, on the prowl or rather prowling prey. It’s the confused Impala waiting with her ass in the air ready to be taken by the strongest lion.
There is also the hot Jock-I-cock-block-myself guy. Uber hot and oh how he knows it. The guy waiting for something hot but guess what, he’s it and like a wolf in a sheep pen he needs to pick off all the ‘healthy’ sheep, one by one.
A room with mirrors all round the bed, two men’s bodies thrust together in the dimmed light, bronzed skin dripping with tiny beads of sweat that glimmer in the light, muscles that twist and turn with every thrust. He only sees himself. He watches himself in the mirrors. Does he feel it? Can he feel the man he is with? Is it love? Is it sex? Can he feel either one?
Till Next time