Wanker
Intrusion,
Something beautiful but forbidden.
Intrusion.
His body dripped with sweat
His brows furrowed in concentration
And his phallus propped up
With his hands wrapped around the base.
His hair looks tousled;
Rough on the edges
Like he had thought this over in his head.
And his other hand scrolling through a phone
Probably looking for the right picture.
His eyes light up
And he squirts lube
And massages it over himself
Making it slippery and wet.
Intrusion,
Upon his hidden pleasure.
His head up
And a soft growl from deep within his throat
He massages himself from the base to the tip;
Calculated timing.
His soft sighs
And gentle moans.
Moving from mid to high tempos
And repeating.
He’s a wanker
But a beautiful wanker
He makes the act pretty and almost sinful.
His strength, showing in his veins
And the weight of his arms.
My pretty wanker.
