7 Chapter 7

And talk about a shock to my closeted gay existence. My own penis stabbed my zipper as blood gushed downward to my crotch. My balls inched closer to my body, and I could actually feel the seed churning at the base of my hard shaft, just waiting—begging—for an invitation to spew.

By the way my gaze eagerly leapt from one work of art to the next, not to mention the drool I felt unwittingly forming at the sides of my mouth and the bulge I could no longer hide at my crotch, I realized that Novak knew my true sexual desires. When he stood beside me, again just inches away, his sly smile told me as much. And it excited me. Especially when I glanced toward his own groin and noted that his package had also grown heftier.

“You like what you see?” he asked.

“Th-this is beyond amazing,” I mumbled.