He's fucking gorgeous.

 I stand in the doorway, unable to take my eyes off his body. If there's ever been a more beautiful man put on this each, I've sure as hell never seen him. I just can't get enough of those long, beautiful legs, so lean, yet so powerful. I let my eyes run up and down those perfect legs, licking my lips as I wonder what it would feel like for those long legs to wrap around my waist. Now that's a lovely picture if anything is.

 My gaze wanders up over his ass and hips, so slim, yet so smooth and tempting. I want so badly to run my hands over his perfect back and stomach that I can almost taste it. I shiver at the thought of my fingers caressing his infinitely perfect pecs, running across his well built shoulders, cradling the back of his neck.

 As distracting as his gorgeous body is, I certainly can't ignore the uppermost part of his body. He is undoubtably the most attractive man I've ever seen, perfect in absolutely every way I can discern. From his perfect skin, to his deep, penetrating green eyes, to his thick mane of wavy hair like spun gold.

 I want him. That fact certainly can't be denied, as evidenced by the growing bulge in my jeans. He, of course, is oblivious to my presence. I'm sure he'd be horrified if he knew I was here. He's always been very shy about his body, for some odd reason. It's funny, he may look like a pretty boy, but off camera he's as manly as they come. Kind of the opposite of me, in that respect. I know I come off as a badass son of a bitch, but the truth is I wouldn't hurt a kitten. Some may fancy the thought of me making Kurt Angle my bitch or screwing Chris Jericho's brains out, but really I'm not like that at all. As pathetic as it sounds, all I really want is a big, strong, macho man who'll cuddle me and do sappy shit for me like hold open the car door. And don't you dare mention the name Steve Austin. That would happen in about a million years.

 I need a sweet guy. An intelligent guy. A guy who can be a gentleman, but who knows how to cut lose. I want someone a little younger than me, really, and definitely athletic, because energetic sex is a must. I know that makes me sound shallow, but hey, I'm still a guy! Anyway, that's what I'd like to have eventually, in the best-case scenario. I'm not looking at him now because I think he's my perfect guy. I'm not that naive. Not that I'd fight it if things went that way, but I don't expect it.

 The reason I'm really spying on him now is because I'm so in lust with the man that it's actually starting to hurt. I don't even know if he's into guys; he's always been very private about that, and with my luck, he's probably 110% straight. I still haven't decided if I'm going to do more than stand here and watch. If I don't make a move on him, then I'm going to have to find someone else quick, because - to put it bluntly - I need to be well and truly fucked. It's been way too long since I've been with a guy, and my body's really starting to feel it.

 So, really what I'm standing here wishing for is a nice, hot little locker room fuck. I'll probably try for him; even if there's a pretty high chance he'll turn me down, I want him so bad I'm willing to try if I think there's any chance at all, and I do think there's at least a small chance.

 I clear my throat. This is it. Time to go for it. "Edge."

 He jumps and whirls around, gawking at me. His hands shoot down to cover his crotch, which I admit I was staring at unabashedly. His expression of shock changes to a distinct frown. "Is there a reason you're spying on my in the shower?" he snaps, and though there does seem to be anger in his voice, I'm sure I sense something else as well.

 I have to take another deep breath. "I was just admiring how gorgeous you are," I tell him awkwardly, clearing my throat again and pushing a stray tendril of blonde hair behind my ear.

 His glare softens minutely, but remains. "You think that's good justification, do you?"

 "Well, um..." I have to swallow to keep my nerve. "Yeah I guess. You're really gorgeous, Edge, and I..." I want you. Dammit, Hunter, say it! I want you. I can do it. I can say it. It's now or never! "I...erm...I'm really, um, interested in you," I stutter, mentally kicking myself for wimping out. I fumble on quickly to try and rectify my blunder. "And I was just thinking that maybe, if you wanted to, we could get together sometime later, or, um, maybe now..." I let my words trail off, blushing hotly. Boy do I wish I had some of that confidence and bravado that I practically radiate on screen.

 He just looks at my for a moment, then his frown is transformed into a smile, and his throws back his head and laughs. His hands move to his hips, revealing his full front to me again. I can't help but look at it, and it's certainly not a fact that's lost on him. "You want this, huh Aich?" he asks me, giving a little thrust of his hips.

 I bight my lip, nodding shyly. The shy act seems to be working, because he's still grinning, and I'm pretty sure I see desire beginning to blaze in his eyes. The shy act does always seem to work with the really macho guys, though I've never quite figured out why. Too bad with me, it's more instinct than an act; I'm shy wether I want to be or not. I guess I'm just lucky that most of the guys I go after like me that way.

 He looks me over, his grin turning a bit predatory. "Anyone out there?" he asks, gesturing out to the locker room. I shake my head, feeling my mouth go dry. Is this really going to happen? This situation which seems to be taken right out of one of my fantasies? Apparently it is.

 "No one," I tell him, trying not to look too excited as I openly stare at his incredible body.

 "Good. Then why don't you lock the door to make sure it stays that way. And, if you feel like it, you might want to take off your clothes and lay down on the couch," he tells me.

 I nod, instantly scampering off the lock the door. He moves into the locker room, leaning against the wall and watching with amusement as I hurriedly undress and lay back on the couch. I made sure to grab something for lube - baby oil, that is - from one of the benches, laying it on my stomach and spreading my legs just a bit, enough to leave him an open invitation.

 He approaches me slowly, wearing that beautiful grin that had captivated so many hearts. "You say I'm beautiful," he murmurs as his eyes rake over me, "but you're not so bad yourself. Damn."

 I can't help blushing. I consider my body to be pretty nice, but hearing a compliment like that from him is something else all together. I'm beginning to feel like a shy schoolgirl, the way I always get around men I really like. Fortunately, he seems to dig it, and there's no question in my mind that I like his aggressiveness. A man who takes charge has never been a bad thing to me.

 "You look damn hot like that," he murmured, settling down between my legs and scooping up the lube. I can feel my breath getting quicker already as he drips the oil across his fingers, rubbing them together until they're nice and slick.

 I hate to ruin a moment like this, but before we start anything there's something I have to say. I clear my throat, blushing a bit more when he stops and looks at me inquiringly. "Um, this may sound stupid, and I really really hope it doesn't change your mind about doing this," I tell him awkwardly, "But, um, I'm kind of a protection boy..."

 I need to go no further. He just smiles at me knowingly, revealing the small foil package he had hidden in the palm of his hand. I chuckled a little at myself, bighting my lip as I returned his smile. "I am too baby," he murmurs.

 We just share a smile for a moment, a moment in which my heart soars and my body's excitement is climbing steadily upwards. I gasp softly when the first digit penetrates me, my voice coming out only in soft breathy moans as he gently prepares me, working the first digit until my body relaxes around in, then slipping in a second, followed shortly by a third. I'm moaning and whimpering by the time I'm thoroughly prepared, wanting him with such a passion that my body to practically burning with desire, my mind misted over from want of him. I want him inside of me, and I want it now.

 He seems to know exactly what I'm thinking, wiggling his eyebrows at me as he slips on the rubber, situating himself between my thighs. I don't think I could every express in words just how exciting that moment was. This man, whose beauty I practically worshiped, was on top of me, inside of me, at last.

 I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms moving around his neck and fastening in his hair as he begins to work his hips, starting off with a nice, slow, deep rhythm. Now I've been with some men who were greats lovers, but none of them could compare to this. This was complete and utter bliss. This was heaven itself. The feeling of him moving inside me made me feel about ready to start spouting out notes so high only an opera singer could reach them.

 Our bodies move as if they were designed to be together. His hips thrust, my back arches, and both of us moan in pleasure, our moans growing louder with each additional thrust. If he's having a less incredible a time than I am, he certainly doesn't look it.

 I don't know how long it lasts...15 minutes...20....half an hour. However long it is, every second was heavenly. From the second I set eyes on him, I knew he'd be incredible in bed, but this is far beyond my expectations.

 My ability to put together two conscious thoughts is momentarily ripped away from me as I come, and come hard, crying out so loud I'm sure half the area could probably tell I was having sex. He comes shortly after, making me gasp as he swells and releases deep inside me. He falls onto my chest as his orgasm passes, breathing heavily, as am I.

 Once he's caught his breath, he rises up onto his elbows, grinning down at me. He's still buried inside of me, and no one's more aware of it than I am. "That was beautiful," he tells me, flashing another one of those killer grins.

 I just lay against the cushions, swooning, gazing up at him like some kind of smitten teenage girl. He brushed a strand of blonde hair out of my face, his smile turning a bit more tender. "So were you just looking for a one-off, or did you actually want to go out?" he asks. The question sounds casual, but I can tell from the way his eyes flick away from me momentarily that it means a lot more to him than it seems.

 "I'd like to go out," I reply softly, smiling at him hesitantly as my shyness kicks in again at its full force.

 "Me too." He grins, finally pulling out of me and standing, discarding the saturated protection first and foremost, then holding out his hand to me. "We'd better go rinse off. Maybe after that we can grab some dinner, if you'd like."

 I smile and nod, deciding I'd better just stay quiet, as I don't trust my voice at all right now. It's funny how I still feel so shy around him, although just moments ago we were as close as two human can possibly get on a physical level. I guess I just don't want to mess this up. This is my shot, and there's no way I'm letting it pass me by. I stand and take his hand, following him into the showers, still with a light blush on my cheek and an enchanted smile on my lips. Whoever would've thought being a peeping tom would lead to this?


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