Arriving home one night later than usual, I knew my third-floor walk-up would still be as warm as an oven. Without bothering to turn on any lights, I moved through the living room, opening windows. My bedroom lay to the right off the living room, and as I passed the doorway I thought that I must have left the light on. Sticking my head in to check, I saw that the light came from a window in the building across the back alley.

That particular window had always been covered with what looked like a black plastic curtain. Now the curtain was drawn aside, revealing a brightly lit, old-fashioned bathroom. From where I stood I could make out a pedestal sink beneath a mirror and a claw-foot tub which stood almost in the center of the white tiled space. Tired and feeling sapped by the heat, I leaned against the door frame just staring across the alley into the empty room. Someone entered, and in a second, I recognized the guy from the café! Instantly I felt that same wave of lust I’d experienced when I first saw him. Crouching down beside my bed, I wanted to watch him without being discovered. I had never thought of myself as a voyeur, but I could not tear myself away from that window.

Upon entering the bathroom he had walked over to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. Not in a vain or posing sort of way but just as if he was checking in with himself. Pushing his thick dark hair back from his face, he looked as tired as he obviously felt, judging by the slump of his shoulders. He wore clothes similar to what I’d seen him in the first time. Either he’s just gotten off work or he stopped for a few beers on the way home. After a minute or so he walked to the tub, leaned across and turned on the water. Then he began to strip.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, he leaned over and unlaced his construction boots. After pulling off the boots and socks, he stood up facing away from me and pulled his tee-shirt up over his head, revealing an expanse of tan and muscled back. Admiring the V-taper of his torso, I unzipped my pants while he unfastened his jeans and pushed them down over his hips. Surprised, I saw that instead of the boxers I had expected, he wore tiny white bikini briefs that rode up the crack of his tight round ass. He kept the briefs on as he turned back to the tub and shut off the taps. Then with one swift motion he removed his briefs and stepped into the tub, his pale cheeks glowing like beautiful twin moons. Without revealing even a hint of his package, he lowered himself into the steaming water.

By now my shirt and pants were open, and I held my balls with one hand and my stiff dick with the other. Already on the verge of shooting my load, I forced myself to wait until he got out of the tub—-I wanted to see if his cock was as good as the rest of him.

— © C.C. Williams 2012