Won’t you come to bed with me? Won’t you? Won’t you caress me, squeeze my shoulder, let your gaze roam my flesh? I can’t say anything that would convey how much I want you to come over here, how much I want you to express my semen from my body. I’m too shy anyway, to ask, so I have to show you instead. Am I not desirable enough, with my young face some partners have called “handsome”? Is my ass not rotund enough, or plentiful enough? Have those hours at the gym been for nothing, do you not notice my waist or the way my back muscles roll under my skin? I even got a pedicure, no thick callouses on my feet to scrape against the sheets, nails clean and scrubbed.
My body language says “I’m offering myself to you”, don’t you see? I’m spread wide open for you, accessible, eager. I’ve lifted my hips just forward enough to tease you by offering just a glimpse of my masculinity between my legs. My balls are full and low enough to rest on the mattress. Don’t they beg for a hand? Your dark hands would also look so artistic gliding over my ass, wouldn’t they?
I’ve picked this room on purpose. It’s so sterile and white, the sheets bleached and the walls scrubbed. I might be white but against the colorless palate I nearly glow, a sign of health and warmth. Aren’t I inviting? Won’t you please come over here? I’m too shy to ask…but I want you, more than breathing or eating. For years, I’ve wanted you, my eternal crush. Please… I beg with my eyes. I hold my breath.
He seems frozen in the doorway, momentarily stunned by my presence. My chest is starting to burn from lack of oxygenated air. Finally, finally he lets go of the doorknob and begins to walk over to me. I exhale so quickly I’m afraid I’ll pass out. He approaches me and strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers. I kiss his thumb, giving him another look of hope.
“You waited for me?” he asks, barely audible.
I nod.
“Through Hal and Scott and Lars, you waited?”
I nod.
He kisses the top of my head. “Thank you,” he whispers, then goes to lock the door.
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Text is fictional.