Aroused into Awakening

By S.C. Valenti

With a newfound career, attitude and craving for men Seth Van Horn steps into a new world of first-time experiences. Embracing his sexuality and a new level of self-confidence Seth plunges himself into a love triangle, fully believing he can enter into the relationship of an already happily married couple. Infatuation, a whirlwind of desire and many mistakes later, Seth finally awakens to find his true self.

• Language: English
• Publisher: House of Erotica
• Release date: Jul 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781789821079

Book preview

Chapter 1

Entering Miami’s International Airport instantly consumed by a flurry of activity as hordes of passengers dash about. Repeatedly saying, Excuse me, in an attempt to weasel through seemingly endless lanes of human traffic going haphazardly in multiple directions. Lines of passengers inching their way to the ticket counter bogged down with luggage patiently yet impatiently wait to check-in. Arrival and departure announcements bellowing in a steady stream from unseen speakers mixed with conversational chatter blend together creating a rush of undecipherable noise. Yet underneath this travel chaos exhilaration exudes as passengers of all kinds prepare for their impending travel plans. Immersed in this travel hustle and bustle adds to my already excited state as today’s my first day as an airline employee.

Proceeding down the TransContinental Airways corridor, having passed through security, Rollaboard suitcase in tow, weaving around travelers there’s liveliness in my walk - confident in my newly tailored uniform. Accentuating my round ass, nice package and slender waist is a pair of form-fitted, navy-blue trousers. Adorning my toned arms, squared shoulders and tight chest is a crisply starched, short sleeved, white epaulette shirt with shiny, silver wings atop the left breast pocket while a gold and blue diagonally stripped tie highlights my sun-streaked, sandy blonde hair and greyish-blue eyes.

Fresh out of training I’m officially a flight attendant and on my way to worldly adventures traveling the globe. I’ll admit it. I look and feel sexy like never before. Not a bit of conceit, it’s that in my heart I know I’m looking mighty fine. For the first time in my young life, only having fooled around with inexperienced guys around my age, there’s a need, a want to attract the attention of men - real men not boys. Having reached that stage of life, declaring and owning my sexuality, brings a strong self-confidence in who I am. New to the scene, now openly gay, my mind’s constantly preoccupied with sex. All kinds of sex with all kinds of men.

My mother’s voice rings in my head: There’s nothing like a man in uniform. A phrase she often said when seeing one. Thinking, she’s right, as I observe several attractive men checking me out. Hopeful one or more of them will follow me a decision to stop in the men’s room is made. Entering, it’s small, brightly lighted with grey walls and dark grey tile surrounding three urinals, three sinks, and two stalls. The urinals unfortunately unoccupied. Bending down, checking the stalls for shoes, they too are unoccupied. Damn it! Parking my suitcase next to the sink closest to the restroom’s entryway. Standing before a mirror noticing my tie’s slightly skewed. Adjusting it while an image of the urinals behind me appears. They’re my favorite, tightly packed one next to the other with no privacy walls a vision forms:

Standing in front of the center piss bowl, hard-on projecting from my unzipped pants, I repeatedly with fingertips only in an up and down motion stroke my silky shaft. Absorbing every inch of my manhood, along with the idea of possibly getting caught heightens my gratification with each stroke.

From nowhere, two well-groomed men in business suits appear next to me. Eyes darting side-to-side observing as these hunky men unzip their trousers. Their manly hands reaching inside gaps of fabric succinctly exposing their dicks - one flaccid, the other slightly erect. Wanting badly to touch them and with little thought simultaneously latching onto the base of their cocks. Working my firmly gripped hands slowly up and down. Senses overwhelmed by their manliness, pre-cum oozes from my dickhead in a steady stream. Their moans of sexual pleasure forces the speeding up of my hands. Alleluia! In unison both men release wads of hot cum that shoot wildly into their piss bowls and all over my hands.

Snapping back to reality, the mirror revealing my raging hard-on forces me to lean into the sink slowly humping the smooth yet hardness of porcelain. My foreskin pushing back to expose my ultra-sensitive dickhead. The friction of fabric from my underwear providing extra pleasure with each thrust. I’m so fucking horny!

Hanging out in restrooms is my thing at the moment. Watching, spying as men touch their privates in public for others to see turns me on. The act of exposing themselves, holding onto their dicks, pissing, shaking off the dew and shoving their flaccid cocks back into the privacy of their pants safely tucking away their manhood excites me. Despite having strong urges to touch the merchandise, it seems I lack the guts to do so even when suggestively invited. What have I been afraid of? Inexperience?

Without warning the clicking of shoes on tile fills the air. Pretending to primp as the mirror reveals a man walking behind me toward the urinals. He’s shorter than what I prefer, with a stocky build that reeks of masculinity. His dark complexion and wavy brown hair accent his professionally tailored khaki suit.

Positioning himself in front of the middle urinal, his backside displayed, I closely watch. Arm movements indicate he’s unzipping his fly. Spreading his legs further apart he forms a firmer stance. Suit coat exposing only the lower part of his tight, cloth covered ass the flexing of his buttocks appears. His lower right forearm moves in rapid, short stroking movements. He’s not pissing. He’s jacking off.

Bam, like being hit by a ton of bricks, I’m paralyzed by his sexual vibration. Heart pounding, hands shaking no longer able to keep up my pretend primping I grab onto the sink in an attempt to steady myself. His head constantly turning in my direction. Our eyes briefly locking in the mirror before he returns to his jack off session. What’s he after? Is this a ploy? Or does he want sex? With the next glance he rotates his body giving me a view of his beautiful prick standing at full attention. Jerking his head in a quick movement to his left nonverbally indicating come here. Legs like Jell-O, knees knocking it feels as if I’m unable to walk. Using the same head gesture he speaks this time, Over here. Come stand next to me.

Nervously, heart in throat,