Nailed by Obsession

I showered, opened the widow onto the terrace to take advantage of the breeze wafting across the top of the city, and lay down on my bed, naked. I was drowsy, a little drunk, and disturbed. I couldn’t get the man’s handsome face and brilliant smile out of my mind. What could he have seen in me to have formed such an obsession? I wasn’t that way; I didn’t go around advertising myself.

The breeze from the terrace caressed my body, and I found myself gliding one hand around my torso and pinching at my nipples, while slowly stroking my cock with the other hand. Hardening my cock and relaxing myself in my own way as I drifted off to sleep, as I often did on these breezy nights in the city.

I heard a sigh and moan and my eyes popped open. He was standing there in the moonlight from the open terrace door. He was naked, and he was beautiful. And he was fully aroused; the obsessed man from the party. His eyes were captured by the sight of my hand stroking up and down on my cock.