Fantasy Fulfilled
by: Ingra
Copyright '02


You come home after a long day, and you call out your man’s name. There is no answer, but you can hear the shower running as you walk up the stairs. You go into the bedroom and slump down at the head of the bed. Just as you lay back to relax, the shower stops and a smile forms in anticipation. Two minutes later he emerges from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist. His brown hair is damp, curly and wild, and small drops of water run down his chest, only to disappear behind that really small towel. He looks at you, his face lights up and that familiar grin crosses his features when he sees your clear blue eyes roaming him.
 

“Like what you see?” he smirks in that way that made you fall in love with him in the first place.  


You smile at him, but you don’t say a word, you’re too busy trying to will that towel off his slim hips. He follows your gaze down to his abdomen, and you hear him chuckle lightly. Suddenly you see him slip one finger in behind the fabric, loosening it just a tiny bit. Your eyes widen and you can feel your mouth water slightly. As you swallow hard and lift your eyes to meet his, you can see the playful, diabolical question in there. You nod slightly to get him to move on, while licking your lips repeatedly. He moves closer to the bed and the towel falls to the floor.  

You can’t hold back the immediate gasp that escapes you and then he comes towards you, sliding across the room, about to crawl onto the bed.
“No,” you murmur, barely audible. Your arm comes up, palm to him to make him stop.
 

He halts halfway up the bed and looks at you curiously. 
“Just you.”
 

It takes a few seconds, but then you see his eyes beaming, and you know he remembers the fantasy you told him about when you were highly intoxicated a few months back. He gets off of the bed and stands in the middle of the room. 


“You wanna watch?” he grins.

A cocky smile is all the answer he gets.
“So where do you want me?” he asks, ready to oblige. 

Your eyes move over to the black leather chair in the corner, and he’s already on his way there. His lean body walks backwards, never breaking your gaze as he sits down into it. He turns, legs resting on one arm, his head falling to the other, eyes closing slowly. You see his hand slide to his chest, one finger starting to circle his nipples. You clench the bed sheets to keep from running to him, and try your best to remember how to breathe. His head turns to you again, eyes fluttering open, and you can see the lustful look inside as he lets his hand wander further down and his tongue comes out to moisten his full, pink lips. 

Then his hand reaches its goal, gently stroking up and down his full length in what must be an agonizingly slow pace. His head falls back again and a moan comes from his lips, and you find yourself wondering if you’ve ever seen anything quite this beautiful. You scoot forward and settle on your stomach, hands under your chin for support. You can see the concentration on his face and the smile playing across his lips. You know he gets off from thinking about you watching him. 

He quickens the pace and you can see his face contort in both pleasure and pain. His hips are pumping into his hand, and sweat is breaking at his temples. Your eyes fixate on the pulse beating at his throat, you’re completely hypnotized by it, but then his mouth falls open and the grunts get louder. Your eyes widen even more from the sight before you. His body starts shaking and you hear him yell out as he arches off the chair. 
“Oh fuck!”
 

Then he collapses back into it, breathing heavily. You watch his chest rise and fall as you push yourself off the bed and walk to him. You kneel down beside him and let your hand fall at his torso. He jumps at your touch and his eyes fly open wide. 


“Good God that was beautiful Jayce...” you whisper, tracing a finger up his chest. 

“Enjoy the show Justin?”


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