I woke up a little after 7am that Saturday morning. I noticed him asleep on the couch as I came down the stairs into the living room. I didn’t want him to wake up and see me without make-up, my hair carelessly pulled into a ponytail and only wearing one of my dad’s old undershirts and plain, white cotton panties. So, I tiptoed through to the kitchen to quietly get something to eat. I was standing at the refrigerator with the door open, contemplating what to have for breakfast when I heard his voice.
“Hmmm…look at what you do to me, girl.”
Startled, I spun around and saw him in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, staring at me. Our eyes met for a moment, then my gaze traveled down across his toned chest and muscled stomach. His red boxers shorts were down around his hips and his hand was wrapped around his cock. He slid his fist up and down the length of his erect member with long, firm strokes.
I had never seen a man’s private parts before and I couldn’t stop looking at his. He motioned for me to come closer. Mesmerized, I stepped toward him and continued to study his beautiful cock. As I came closer, I focused for a few seconds on his balls, hanging slackly, covered with thin, blonde hairs. Then, my eyes followed the path of his hand, from the base to the tip of his rigid cock. “See,” he whispered, “this is what you do to me.”
He let go of his cock, took my hand and placed it where his had been. As I stood there loosely holding him, I noticed my breathing. I could see the rise and fall of my chest as I gasped for air. I wondered if he could hear my heart racing, like I could. My stomach tightened and I became aware of the moist, throbbing sensation between my legs. He closed his hand over mine and began stroking his cock, slowly and deliberately.
