I Only Wanted to Watch

I realized then that Brandon could see me. His eyes were piercing mine. I could almost tell that he was trying to convey that this could be us—that it might very well be us on another night, if I could suspend my inhibitions as he now had. My cock gave a lurch, and I moved my free hand up and glided up my taut stomach and pecs and squeezed my nipples. I returned his look of expectation and desire as best I could, sealing the unspoken agreement. He seemed almost to be telling me that this whole episode had been constructed to bring me out fully, to make me acknowledge that I wanted him and was willing to go the distance. I lifted my cock and pointed it at him, and he gave me a kissing gesture with his mouth. The agreement was ratified.

I now could see Brandon’s cock bouncing on his belly. The gypsy had moved on—and down—with his lips. Brandon sighed and then moaned and then gave little yipping sounds and beat his fists against the bed in ecstasy as the gypsy expertly worked his asshole with his lips and tongue. Brandon raised his legs and then pulled them down onto his chest with his hands under his knees, giving the gypsy the deepest, widest possible access to his ass. All the time, Brandon was holding my eyes in his, conveying the deepest sense of pleasure and desire that he could across the room to me.

With a little cry, Brandon unfolded his legs wide, dug his heels into the edge of the bed. He then wrapped both of his hands around his long, engorged cock and stroked himself to ejaculation. I found that I had been stroking myself along with him, and we shot off together. I had cried out myself upon release, but the gypsy showed no sign of having heard me.