No One is Watching: 1/1

by Catlover2x

He could hear the music from the driveway it was so loud. Instead of pulling into the garage, Nick decided he would peek and see what Greg was up to. He was home two hours earlier than usual. Ever since theyíd been assigned to split shifts it had been harder to spend time together. They made the effort but it wasnít the same.

He could see a shadow move behind the curtain and he grinned. Maybe air guitar or air drums; Greg was always claiming he could have been a rock star.

Nick crept closer to the window but there was no gap for him to look through. He went around to the back door and snuck in that way.

He didnít want to scare Greg but he doubted his boyfriend would hear him over the music.

He walked quietly into the kitchen, bending over the counter to peer through the serving hatch.

Greg was dancing.

Nick had seen Greg dance in clubs. He thought the younger man was good; but he had never seen him dance like this.

Gregís eyes were closed and he was swaying in place. The music was seductive, discordant, odd somehow. Nick didnít recognize it. Greg slowly raised his hands, sliding them along his torso and up over his head. His hips started rocking to the pulse of the music.

Nick leaned over the sink, holding his breath.

Greg was dressed ludicrously in South Park boxers but he didnít look silly. As the music built he snapped his body straight, then whirled, spinning fluidly, his arms carving graceful shapes in the air. He was a blur of slender limbs, perfectly centered.

Nick felt himself getting hard and moved his hands, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans as he watched.

Lost in the ecstasy of the music, Greg moved in a sensuous erotic ballet for an invisible audience. His body shimmered in the dim light filtering through the curtains.

Nick stared at him. He reached for his cock, rubbing it slowly.

There was something wild and untamed about Gregís movements, as if something had broken free inside. He danced through the entire room, falling to his knees to thrust his hips forward. Slowly he brought one leg in front of him. Sinking slowly to the floor in a split, he leaned forward, flattening his body against his leg.

Nick gasped and opened his fly, pulling out his dick. In time to the beat he found himself stroking it, jacking himself, mesmerized by the supple body.

Greg slowly pressed himself to his knees, arching back so that his head touched the floor. He curled up and rolled forward, landing on his feet.

Nickís hand was moving faster now. He could feel cum building in his balls, he was so close.

Greg was undulating, moving his hips in a circle as he slid his boxers down his legs and kicked them aside. He smiled as he danced in wild abandon, his head thrown back.

The muscles of his slender body stood out under his skin, cut, defined by the tension of the dance. His mouth was open, cords straining on his neck as he sang along. His whole body was vibrating.

Nick couldnít hear him sing, the music was too loud, but he didnít care. Waves of electricity rolled up his spine, his balls were burning and suddenly a river of white, hot fire spilled over his hand. His cry was swallowed in the music.

Greg never stopped, spinning, leaping, making love to the music with his body.

Nick cleaned himself with a paper towel, never taking his eyes off Greg. He took one last look before he walked away, silently closing the door behind him, leaving Greg to his secret dance.


This story archived at: What makes the desert beautiful

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