Eloise was petrified. In just a few seconds, the man's presence became more and more apparent, both in hardness and heat, steadily rising.
She could feel the man's Adam's apple move, the subtle sound of him swallowing growing louder in her ears, sticky and sensual. The man waited for a moment, certain that the girl, rigid as a frozen stone, had no chance of recovering on her own. With a helpless sigh, he asked, "Do you intend to help me solve this?"
She sprang back, her movements comical, like a wind-up spring toy. Her slender limbs pressed tightly against the bed, trembling with fear, her chest rising and falling in anxious breaths, while her beautiful eyes darted about, flashing with panic.
The man also turned over, lying back on the bed in a leisurely manner, stretching his long, firm limbs lazily. He moved his arms down twice, tugging. Lying face up on the bed, he stretched out his long and muscular limbs lazily, and moved his arms down to unzip his pants. A purplish-red, swollen male reproductive organ, erect and upright, was exposed.
Eloise's mind buzzed with the sound, and this was the first time she had seen a man's private parts in real life, besides pornographic videos. She swallowed hard, her mind brimming with curses, the first of which was: Truly magnificent!
And it had a neat and attractive shape, with a thick cylindrical body and twisting blue veins liked sleeping snake. The head of the stick resembled a shiny plum, with a round, bulging head and a purple-red skin that makes one want to lick it with the tip of the tongue.
Realizing her own low and crude thoughts, Eloise almost wanted to slap herself. At the same time, a part of her felt resentment toward the man, who had been so openly sincere: "Bro, why are you so shameless?"
Yet, this was the man's room, the man's bed, and the morning erection was a normal phenomenon for him as a man. What could Eloise say? All she could do was minimize her presence as much as possible before he was done.
The man, focusing on the matter at hand, tilted his head slightly, the line of his jaw smooth and defined. His thin eyelids were half-closed, and his thick lashes covered his eyes. His gaze seemed focused on his lower body, intent yet indifferent, as he casually bent one long leg.
Eloise's eyes quietly glanced over, only to discover how beautiful the man's hands were. The palm was broad, the fingers long and not delicate, each joint clearly defined. The color was neither pale nor dark, but evenly soft and graceful, standing in stark contrast to the viciousness of what his palm gripped.
He was calmly and deliberately attending to his own physical needs.
Eloise had never imagined that there would come a day when she would watch a man do such a crude thing in front of her, yet not feel disgusted or repulsed. After spying for a while, she made a secret discovery: the man was not entirely indifferent.
As his fingers moved, his breathing remained steady, yet there was a distinct deepening in his breaths. Each breath, like boiling water lifting the lid of a pot, came with a sharp sound and a surge of heat.
She had initially been startled, but now, to her surprise, she felt an inexplicable sense of shyness. The heat slowly rising in her cheeks became impossible to ignore. She, in a futile attempt to cover her embarrassment, raised both hands to shield her eyes, yet her gaze couldn't help but sneak out through the gaps between her fingers.
The man seemed to be nearing the final stage, his breathing growing heavier, and the movements of his hands became quicker, with an added force. His back arched slightly, like a taut bow ready to snap.
In Eloise's gaze, that thing's blood surged, like a silent volcano just before eruption, accumulating terrifying power. Beneath her palm, her eyes widened more and more.
Just before it all erupted, she couldn't help but feel curious about the expression the man might be wearing at that moment. Eloise's gaze moved upward uncontrollably, only to unexpectedly meet a pair of deep, bright eyes—the man was staring at her intently.
Her heart skipped a beat, then began to pound heavily, like a drum. She heard a muffled grunt, not very loud, but clear in her ears. At that moment, the man's composure reached its peak.
"Excuse me, could you pass me a tissue?" he calmly requested, his tone and expression as if he were simply asking for a napkin to wipe up some spilled juice.
Eloise, still dazed, pulled a tissue from the bedside and handed it to the man, who reached out with his hand suspended in mid-air. The hand was clean, yet when she touched it, she felt as though she had been burned, the shock instantly rousing her.
"I... I'm going to the bathroom," Eloise stammered, and no matter how strange her sudden departure seemed, she fled in haste. Sure enough, when she looked at her reflection in the mirror, Eloise's face was so red it seemed ready to bleed.
