The Observant

The full-length mirror stood against one wall. On either side, at an angle, ring lights shone on the individual standing in front of it. He was tall, a little over six feet, muscular and fit without being overly bulky. Something that his observer really enjoyed about him. He was dressed in army camo pants, standard issue boots and an olive drab tee, which hugged his chest like it had been painted on.

Tonight, he wasn't on patrol, he wasn't with his unit, tonight he was the Observant, an object of worship and desire. The Observer stood back from him, watching him stand and flex in front of the mirror. He was anxious to approach, anxious to touch but also hesitant. He knew he had permission to worship, to offer his tribute in the form of caressing and massaging the Observant.

As the Observant stood before the mirror, he flexed his biceps which were thick and meaty, then curled his arms in front, flexing both arms and chest, immaculately reflected in the mirror. And that decided him, the Observer stepped forward. He moved up behind the Observant and placed his hands on the man's shoulders and then slowly traced his way down across those muscled shoulders, down to the biceps and forearms.

The Observant ignored him, or seemed to, he simply continued to move through his poses: lifting both arms into a standard bicep flex, then moving his arms behind his back to flex again with his hands clasped behind him. The Observer moved in front of him, blocking his view of the mirror and began to caress the man's chest, cupping each muscular pec in one hand, squeezing. The Observant popped his pecs under the hands gripping them.

The Observer got a little weak in the knees. He leaned in to smell the scent of the man before him, tracing every muscle on the man's arms and chest with his hands, as the Observant continued to visibly ignore him, simply moving through flex after flex, pose after pose. After a few minutes the Observant reached to his waist, untucked his tee and pulled it up over his head, mussing his dark shaggy hair, long for a military guy but sexy on him.

He was now shirtless, and the Observer revisited the path he'd just explored, feeling biceps, triceps, kissing the muscles as his hands caressed them. He moved across the chest he'd dreamed about; he pinched each nipple which drew a shiver, the first reaction he'd gotten out of the Observant. Back up to the shoulders and around to the back again. Feeling and exploring every inch of the exposed skin.

As he moved around the front, again, the Observant pushed him down to his knees, then lifted a foot and rested it on the Observer's chest. No words were spoken but the Observer knew his place. He simply began to unlace the army boot, then loosened it and pulled it off. He caressed the sock covered foot, inhaled it's scent before running a hand along the underside, up over the heel and up towards the calf. He returned to the foot and slowly began to work the sock off, the Observant's toes flexing as the sock came off. The Observer massaged the foot, then pulled and stretched each toe before the foot was withdrawn and replaced with the other boot covered foot. And the process was repeated.

The Observer, true to his name, did observe that the pants in front of his face were now heavily tented. But his job was the foot on his chest and not the hard on, practically staring at him through camo pants.

When the foot had been massaged and stretched, the Observant pushed the Observer back with his foot and returned to flexing. Now barefoot, shirtless and wearing only tented camo pants, he stared at himself in the mirror and began to work through a series of poses. The Observer, still on the floor, watched quietly for a few moments before climbing back to his feet and then once again worshipping the muscles on display before him. He caressed front and then back and as he stood at the man's back, his hands tracking the strong back, he moved down to the man's lower back and let his hands slide just inside the top of the camo pants and felt the top of the firm ass they hid.

He was pushed back then and almost fell before he caught himself. In front of him, the Observant seemed to glare at him in the mirror but then smirked in his devilish way and undid his pants but didn't pull them down. The Observer watched the pants open and the tufts of pubic hair that the opening revealed. He moved forward and hugged the Observant from behind, pressing his body into the muscular back, then slid his hand around to caress the belly, moving down toward that treasure trail reflected before him.

The Observant stopped him, and pulled him around, once again pushing him down to the floor. He dropped the open pants and stepped out of them, now standing naked before the Observer, as his rigid cock bounced in the air. It demanded attention and the Observer reached for it, another muscle for him to worship.

He caressed it and felt the silky skin, stretched over the hard core of the Observant's cock. He slid the skin up and down the shaft, feeling it glide in his hand, feeling the weight of it. His other hand cupped balls, big beefy balls which he rolled.

The Observant wanted more. He placed his hands on either side of the Observer's head and pushed his cock into the man's mouth. No mercy was given, he fucked that mouth hard. His body arching to drive his cock deep into the man's throat. It didn't take him long. The Observer could feel the balls, which he still held, contract in his hand and he knew he was getting his reward.

The Observant pulled out of the Observer's mouth, reached down and stroked his cock half a dozen times and then shot his load all over the Observer's face. Splash after splash landing, matting hair, dripping off his nose, hitting his cheeks, his forehead. The Observer's face was awash in cum. The Observant wiped the last drops of his load across the Observer's face, then stepped away. He clicked a button and the camera's turned off, the ring lights shut off and the Observant simply turned and left the room, leaving his cum covered worshipper drenched and kneeling on the floor.