Tayler called me on cam like it was nothing. I was sitting in my sweatpants, a little bored in the evening, when suddenly his face and arms filled the screen. He had just come back from the gym, his hair was tousled, his cheeks were slightly pink, and his T-shirt was sticking to his chest so much that even through the camera I felt the heat radiating from his body.
“Dude, can you believe it?” he blurted. “One hundred and twenty kilos. Easy. Like nothing.”
He raised his arm and flexed his bicep, like he had to prove it. And I pretended to stay chill.
“So now you're officially a monster,” I replied, but I still stared a little too long at his arm, which looked like it was made of stone.
He talked and I nodded, pretending to listen. About the gym, about how he still wanted to build up his legs, about how he had to buy a new shaker because his old one was falling apart.
Typical talk, but it sounded different when I looked at him in that light, a little yellowish, as if only a night light was on in his room. His face was in semi-shadow, but his shoulders, chest, neck... everything looked even more masculine, even more tempting.
“Alright, so… we wrapping this up?” he finally said.
“Sure. You going again tomorrow?”
“Of course, I still have to teach you how to do real squats,” he laughed, and then the screen shook slightly, as if he had moved his laptop away.
Click. I thought he had hung up. But the screen remained. His image was still there in front of me. I waited for a moment for it to disappear, for the camera to turn off. But it didn't. He got up, walked across the room, as if he had forgotten I was still there.
I hesitated. Should I log out? Was this some kind of mistake? But I sat motionless, watching. Something inside me told me it was better to stay.
He really hadn't turned off the camera. The screen still showed his room, the bed with the unmade covers, and Tayler, who had thrown his T-shirt aside. He was standing sideways to the camera, but close enough for me to see every move he made. My heart suddenly raced, as if someone had turned up the volume inside me.
He started unzipping his pants. Slowly at first, as if he wasn't in a hurry, as if it were a routine. I sat motionless, my hands on my knees, but I could feel my fingers involuntarily clenching the fabric. Fuck, do I really have to watch this? I should click “disconnect,” leave, anything. But I didn't do anything.
His pants fell down and he was left in just his boxers. Black, tight, clinging to his thighs and ass so that it made my stomach clench. He took a step forward, adjusted himself, and suddenly... pulled them down in one motion. As if he wasn't even thinking about anyone watching.
And then I saw him completely. His body looked like something out of a catalog, a sculpted chest, a six-pack, broad shoulders, and strong, muscular legs. And his cock. Big, heavy, still hanging half-soft, but already perfect, the kind you look at and suddenly can't breathe.
I felt my own dick move in my pants. It was getting harder with every second, even though I tried to sit still. I clenched my thighs as if that would hide anything. “Maybe he doesn't know... maybe he just forgot that the camera is on,” I explained to myself, though my heart was pounding so hard that I was sure it was visible on my face.
He sat down on the bed with his legs spread apart, leaning slightly on his hands. The light from the lamp highlighted his abs, his chest, and how his muscles twitched with every movement. I couldn't take my eyes off him. I felt myself getting hot, my breathing shallow and rapid. It was sick and at the same time the most exciting thing I had ever seen.
I sat glued to my chair, and he reached into the drawer next to the bed. He took out a bottle of clear gel. And then I knew it couldn't be a coincidence. But despite this realization... I didn't move, I didn't turn off the camera. I was glued to the screen.
Tayler sat down again with his legs spread apart, squeezed some lube onto his hand, and began to rub it all over his cock. The sound, wet and sticky, filled my room as clearly as if I were sitting next to him. His hand moved along the thick, heavy length, faster and faster, more and more confidently.
I watched his cock grow. Second by second, it rose until it stood in all its glory, straight, hard, perfect. And I felt my own pulse throbbing in my pants, as if it wanted to break free. I couldn't take it anymore. I unzipped my sweatpants and pulled it out.
I touched myself at the same moment he looked straight into the camera. It was like an electric shock. I held my breath. He was watching. And smiling, so slightly, as if he had known from the beginning that I was watching him.
“Fuck...” I thought, but it was too late. My hand began to move rhythmically over my cock, at the same pace as his. Two parallel scenes connected by a single glance.
He didn’t say a word. The silence was more intense than any sound. All I could hear was my own quickened breathing and the wet noises of his hand on his cock. I felt my balls tightening, the pressure building too fast, and yet I still wanted to drag out every single second.
His movements became more desperate, his abdominal muscles tensing and trembling. I stared at it with such hunger, as if I could suck the image into myself forever.
His breathing suddenly quickened. His shoulders were tense, his abs rising and falling, and his hand squeezed tighter around his hard cock. I watched his hips lift, his whole body trembling to a rhythm I could no longer ignore. And then… release. White streams spilled across his stomach, his chest, dripping down onto his thighs. He let out a quiet moan, just loud enough to send shivers down my neck.
I couldn’t hold it in a second longer. My hand sped up, my balls were already tight, and my cock throbbed so hard I had to tilt my head back. Cum shot out of me violently, splattering across my stomach, my hand, even my thighs. I was breathing heavily, my eyes still locked on the screen.
He was leaning against the wall, his body glistening with cum. He wiped his hand across his stomach, as if to smear every trace of it on himself. He looked at the camera. And again, that damn smile. Full of confidence, provocation. Then the screen suddenly went dark. The camera turned off.
I was left alone, sweaty, my heart pounding, my cock still half hard, thinking, “What the fuck just happened?” I wanted to believe it was an accident, that he had simply forgotten. But I could still see that moment in my mind when he looked straight at me.
I grabbed some tissues and wiped myself off quickly, trying to calm my breathing. I was about to close my laptop when a notification popped up on the screen. A message from him.
I clicked on it.
“I know you saw it. You had fun.”
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