Morning Glory

By Brock Archer

The nascent morning sun creeping through the bedroom window cast a reddish orange glow over Julian's naked body as he lay sleeping. Taut, toned muscles accentuated his lean, athletic body. Dark, Mediterranean curls draped long over the back of his head like curtains at a Roman theatre. His rigid penis suggested that some erotic dream had captured his imagination. Like the rest of his body, it was a perfect penis: long, thick, straight, and uncut, just the way that nature had intended it. His balls, full and juicy, hung low, as a man's should.

Fernando sat in the floral over-stuffed chair in the corner watching, admiring, worshiping his lover's perfect figure. His eyes traced the curves of his torso, his slender waist, and his long, sexy legs. But mostly he feasted on Julian's incomparable manhood. He only meant to admire, to adore, not to get himself aroused, but how could he help it. He rubbed his own morning wood through his cotton and spandex underwear, the kind that showcases a man's assets well, and Fernando had much to showcase.

Fernando could go back to bed and lie next to his lover's perfect body, feel his manhood against his hungry skin. Or he could just sit in the over-stuffed chair and admire him from across the room? Or he could gently rub his penis against Julian's and bring in the dawn with a bang.