Page 143 of His Secret

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Page 143 of His Secret

“You should FaceTime me and set your phone on the bathroom counter. Let me watch you.” After a beat of silence, I say, “It’s only fair. I gave you a show.”

“Hmm.”

Noise in the background lets me know he’s moving around. A few seconds later, my phone beeps, and when I look at the screen, I see he’s started a video call.

I press the button and the room comes into view. He’s already propped the phone up in the bathroom, because I watch him walk toward the shower where he opens the glass door and turns on the water.

He walks off screen, but reappears a few seconds later. I watch as he begins to undress, taking off his plain white T-shirt and dropping it to the floor. He gives me his back when he takes off his pants, bending over slightly to get them off around his ankles.

A hum of appreciation rumbles in my throat.

Once he’s naked, he turns to the side slightly, letting me see his half-hard cock before he moves to get into the shower.

It’s about three feet from where the phone rests, and though he leaves the glass door open, my view gets skewed when he moves forward, covered by the glass.

He’s teasing me, but I don’t hate it.

After he’s soaped up his body, he appears back in the doorway, making a show of cleaning his cock. His hand runs up and down the length a few times, soap suds hiding the beautiful shaft.

His body becomes a blur behind the glass when he steps up to wash his hair, but soon enough, he’s back in view. He gives me every angel as he bends and twists to clean every part of his body. I get the perfect view of his ass from the side and from the back. My eyes track the muscles in his thighs and arms as water cascades over them. He finally gives me a frontal view, his hands running through his hair.

I shift, putting a hand in my pants to grab my cock, andthen he leans against the wall of the shower, his hand going to his shaft.

He tugs on it, eyes closed as he gets himself fully erect. My own hand moves up and down, and I quickly tug my pants down past my ass and free my cock from the confines of my boxer-briefs.

Adrian moans and it sends a jolt of lust up my spine. I sit up straighter, watching closely as he strokes himself. A couple minutes later, he stops, turning off the water.

He walks out of the shower, dripping wet and rock hard. I’m transfixed as he gets closer to the screen, his cock staring straight at me.

Off screen he reaches for something, but then his hand is back on his shaft, and I realize he got some lotion.

I thank the heavens for low counters and tall men because he’s able to stroke himself directly in front of me without anything blocking him.

His tip is engorged and dark pink, and I wish I could put it in my mouth.

“Oh, god,” he moans, setting me on fire. “Fuck.”

I can’t see his face, but his voice and the visual in front of me is perfect. I spit in my palm and stroke a little faster.

Another sinful moan leaves his lips. It’s almost whimpery. It’s that desperate sound he makes when he’s so close to coming.

My tongue swipes at my lip as I await his release.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, god. Matías,” he says, voice like gravel. “I’m coming.”

The muscles in his stomach flex and then white ribbons of cum shoot out, landing on the countertop.

“Ah,” he grunts. “Fuck.” He sucks in a breath and releases a shuddery exhale.

His body continues to jerk and spasm as I watch everydrop of his release leave his body and be wasted on the granite fucking counter.

“Let me see your ass,” I say in a commanding voice, but it’s a plea. I’d beg if he asked me to.

He steps away, the sink coming on briefly before he’s back. He lifts the phone, his slightly flushed face appearing on the screen.

“I thought you were supposed to be quiet.”

“There are no rules,” I say. “Now show me your ass. I want to come imagining I’m filling you up.”




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