this has been nagging at me all fucking day.  it made work extremely difficult when my muse chose, once again, to stroll past my desk and trail her fingers lightly across the back of my neck.

the inspiration was partly Aisling Weaver’s #FuckMeFriday hashtag, and partly an utterly delicious picture tweeted ages ago by, i think, Remittance Girl.  it’s still on my phone’s memory card.



I see you.

In my apartment, the fuse has blown.  I was on my way to the circuit breaker when I glanced through the twilit, sodium-flare window.

And my breath hitched.

I see you.

You’re sitting in the dark, your legs stretched out in front of you, your back propped against a corner of the wall.  The telephone cable snakes across the bare floorboards; your right arm is bent, holding the receiver to your ear.

And you are naked.

The top of your torso, your right arm and your head are in shadow.  I cannot see your face, but I don’t need to.  I don’t need to see the expression on your face when I can clearly see how aroused you are.

That is, principally, what made my breath hitch, and arrested my irritated progress across the apartment in an instant.

As I stand in the middle of the floor, transfixed by the view through my window and yours, I watch your left hand, lit by a slash of light across your torso and legs, creeping slowly towards the erection standing thick and proud from below the taut muscles on your belly.

Who is it you are talking to, I wonder?  Is it a woman?  A man?  A lover?  Someone you desperately wish to have as a lover?  Whoever it is, I can tell how much you want them.

Your fingers curl around your shaft, and you begin to stroke.  Slowly, at first.  Taking your time.   Rubbing the ball of your thumb over the crown, spreading the beads of precum already forming over the tip.  Making it glimmer slickly in the sodium light.

My breath is coming in short pants, in time with the increasing strokes of your hand  and soon, very soon, it stops altogether, as your body shudders and your back arches, glistening ropes of come arcing from your cock to splatter like jewels across your beautiful skin.

When I finally begin to breathe again, it comes with awareness.  I am slick with want.

Taking my stolen vision of beauty and abandon with me, I retire to somewhere safe from prying eyes.