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Oh, you wouldn’t believe what I’ve seen, and it’s
quite a story to tell, believe me.
I’ve never liked summer classes, yet see it as a
necessary evil for achieving my goals. To get to
where I want to be in life, I'm gonna have to bite the
bullet… least until I get myself a gun with which I
can shoot this bullet at other people, then I’ll have
my day.
I do my homework, and I do it well enough to wrap my
sorry professors around my little fingers like some
kind of over-dressed marionette who maintains their
image only while the office doors are open. It’s when
they close that the beer comes out of the cabinet and
they start swearing about their disrespectful
students. I know all their secrets and I’ve got them
wrapped around my fingers, the homework merely being
the easiest way to gain their trust. It’s good
practice for the real world out there. Start with
gaining control of your professors, and when you hit
the real office world, the high up manager will be a
cinch. But I don’t care about the professors at the
moment. No, on the contrary, it was during my
homework tonight that I found the unique punctuation
within all the dullness of my summer life.
I saw them on the roof.
Rain and moonlight are wonderful tools for atmosphere
and they bring out the wet and warm flavor, even if
the show is across the school dorm courtyard, atop a
roof where only your imagination and a pair of
binoculars can fill in the delicious, yet seemingly
minor, details.
I couldn’t make out all of the details, not even with
my binoculars from some bird watching class that had
been a waste of my money. Still, I’ll spend the rest
of my life rerunning that memory in my mind, until I
break my mental tape beyond repair, and then I’ll just
fawn over the scattered images until those too
dissolve into the dust of forgetfulness. I can’t see
how I’ll ever get tired of analyzing it, because it
was just so delicious that I can still taste the
bittersweetness in the back of my mouth.
Dark hair, as they step onto the slick roof, is gently
covered with a mist of moisture, adding to its shine
in the moonlight. Colors aren’t much in such a lack
of light, save for the sheer and see-through whites
that glow and the twilight blacks that make the
moonlight burn like day. One had hair longer then the
other, which served to set them apart in my mind,
where most other features failed.
I could see the non-descript white shirts slowly
soaking through, becoming little more then fuzzy masks
across slick skin. A faded sheer mask that covered
the wonders below. Who ever they were, I didn’t doubt
that they were the drooling material for many members
of the opposite sex. Two beautiful boys, each unique
and sensual, moving together on the roof, so
intoxicated with each other that they forgot the rest
of the world existed. And they certainly didn’t
notice me as I moved to my window and pulled out the
dusty binoculars to see through.
All the better for me, I suppose. I'm certainly not
one to complain about a free show of such untamed
lust.
It started slow, as far as I could see, both seeming
nervous about what they were doing. Hands hesitated,
but breathing sped up, no doubt helped by the fact
that the rain soon soaked them through and through.
White t-shirts and wet jeans, who couldn’t be turned
on? Especially when that was mixed with the musty
smell of summer rains combined with the scent of the
bread being baked in the school cafeteria. The many
scents melded together even for me with my windows
only partially open. I could only imagine the effects
they would have on one’s mind. A natural love potion.
Better then the most seductive of nature’s natural
pheromones.
Shirts were rolled off of bodies, exposing them in the
dim light as thunder rolled overhead. Hands slide
through another’s hair, slowly undoing the long braid
which fell to his waist. I watched the beautiful
locks spread out and stick across his back, slick and
shiny in the light, glimmering. Then the jeans were
lost, with considerably more effort. Yet the sight
afterwards was worth the frustratedly slow task.
Nothing is more beautiful then a summer night where
the rain comes down like it shall never stop, dancing
against the trees and turning the entire world into a
glimmering and glowing world of life. Nothing is more
beautiful then that, perhaps… save for this sight.
Two shapely bodies, pressed against each other as
tongue, no doubt, explored new caverns and depths.
Hands roaming over wetted skin, hair matted against
the back of necks and covering both of them like
darkened strands of a lustful spiderweb, further
entwining them in their tight embrace.
I can see bodies moving at a rhythm, slowly gaining
momentum as the thunder grows louder. Lightning soon
adds to the effect, flashing light across the scene as
I try and see every detail in my limited sight.
Flashes of hands in the most intimate of places. A
strobe light of movements, punctuated by the loud
rumbles that nearly shake the floor. I can see them
panting, mouths open as they struggle to breathe, too
caught up in the pleasure to stop.
They take turns. Touching each other and exploring
every inch of what could only be the most attractive
examples of the male physic that I have ever seen.
Then, one turns the other, pressing him against the
edge of the roof, where he grasps the ledge and his
mouth opens in a cry of passion that is swallowed in
the storm.
One takes the other. His long slick hair flowing
around them, despite the moisture and rain holding it
down. Each penetrating movement emphasized by that
gorgeous curtain of hair, swirling around them. I can
see their mouths open, moving in words and sounds that
I can only imagine. I can see their bodies shaking,
but not from the cold water, instead from the movement
inside. I can focus my lenses closer and see the
single drips of water washing over those parted
breathless lips and I can’t help but shiver myself.
The act seems to last forever, and I find myself
breathless watching them. I don’t react like this,
uninhibited and uncontrolled. Yet tonight seems to
have brought something out in many people. The moment
lasts forever, and yet, ends too quickly at the same
time. Before I know it, the two of them collapse out
of sight, covered by the protective ledge which lines
the roof. My delicious image conceals itself… but not
before they both give a cry of pleasure that manages
to be heard above the rumbles and shatters of the
storm. I can hear their voices rolling off the roofs
and walls of the dorm, filling the night with a
delicious flavor I can taste and savor, rolling my
tongue in it even after the moment has passed.
I can only image now what they are doing on that roof.
I swear I can still hear occasional sounds and I
wonder if they are still up there, exploring, even as
the storm has died down. After all, who wouldn’t want
to spend the entire night exploring such delectable
bodies, covered in rain and the tangy taste of sweat.
I can only imagine. And oh shall I imagine.
My homework is left forgotten and I think this will be
the first class where I don’t care. I have much more
important things to think about. Conquering the world
of incessantly annoying idiots can wait. Even the
cunning are allowed their nights of pleasantly
tantalizing visions.
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