Massimo continues barking orders while I watch him from behind the leaves of the palm. Everything about him is fascinating. Like, the dragon designs inked on his massive forearms. Identical in shape and size, the only difference between them is the color—red on his left and black on the right—and the fact that the two seem to be staring each other down. And how the muscles on his back ripple every time he moves. His biceps, stretching the fabric of his T-shirt, bulge beneath short sleeves that look like they’ve been painted on. And then, there are his sweatpants—riding a bit low, enough to reveal the waistband of his underwear. Boxers or briefs?
My hands itch to explore that magnificent body. How would it feel? He’s got a warrior’s physique. I want to touch, to taste every single inch of
