Jay watched as Andrea moved in his seductive way, his longing already at fever pitch, but held in check. He would not give in, not until his blood boiled and he could take it no longer - he wanted this one to be very special and refused to hurry. He smiled broadly, unashamed of his appreciation of the Italian stud's gorgeous body and graceful movements.<br/><br/>He kept his hands on the back of the couch, far away from the tent in his crotch, knowing that to touch himself, even to make himself more comfortable, would be to give in to the temptation. He withstood the pain as his cock pushed against the fabric of his pants, knowing that when release came, it would be all the sweeter.<br/><br/>When Andrea finally revealed his defined chest, Jay sighed. It was like looking at a graceful Roman statue, sculpted by one of the masters of the Renaissance, given life and desire, and given over to his pleasure. His mind raced with all the things he wanted to do with (and to) this gorgeous young stud, trying to remember what the book detailed about his proclivities.<br/><br/>The piercing glinted at him, and he wanted nothing more than to tweak that nipple and make Andrea squirm in delight. He wanted to lick those beautiful tattoos - hell he wanted to lick every square inch of Andrea's body for that matter.<br/><br/>He caught the shirt that was tossed at him and smiled even broader as he brought it up to his face and inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent of the man. It was better than being drunk, this feeling; better than the best high any drug could ever give him. He sat and watched the lithe young man dance for his pleasure and wanted it never to end, while simultaneously wishing he would hurry up and get naked so the real fun could begin...