NEDDIE'S MORNING
I clean the pool at dawn. Always the same routine — net, brush, quiet water. The resort is half asleep then. Pale sky, birds just starting, the air cool and damp.
And through the glass wall of the private suite, there's Neddie.
He rented it for a week. I noticed him the first morning because he was already awake, standing at the kitchen counter with his laptop glowing blue in the dark. Naked as the day he was born. No robe, no shame. Just that lean, smooth body moving slow in the dim light.
Every morning since, it's the same thing. Neddie up before the sun. Laptop open. Coffee steaming. Naked.
The glass walls face the pool and garden like they're meant to show him off. And he never bothers to hide.
Today the sun comes up strong. Gold light slides across the tiles and pours through the glass. Neddie's standing at the counter again, leaning forward a little, elbows planted while he types.
His back is to me.
Long, smooth, perfect. The sunlight hits his shoulders and runs down the line of his spine, across his waist, over the curve of his hips. His skin almost glows. A faint sheen like he just showered or the morning heat is already waking his body up.
I'm supposed to be brushing the deep end.
Instead I'm staring.
My chest gets tight. My hands move without thinking. I try to focus on the water but my eyes keep drifting back to him — the way his muscles shift when he moves, the quiet confidence of him standing there like the whole world is allowed to watch.
Something inside me snaps loose.
I step behind the pool shed wall, half hidden, breath coming rough. I tell myself I'll stop but I don't. The sight of him in that sunlight pulls it right out of me — the tension, the heat, the stupid desperate feeling building in my gut.
My hand finds my cock, already hard and straining against my shorts. I pull it out, the cool morning air a shock against my heated skin. I start stroking, my grip tight, my thumb swiping over the sensitive head. Precum beads at the tip, slicking my movements. My breath hitches, each stroke pulling me closer to the edge. My balls draw up tight, a familiar pressure building at the base of my spine.
And then it happens.
Fast. Sudden. A white-hot rush that explodes out of me. Thick ropes of cum shoot from my cock, painting the shed wall in spurts of pearly white. I gasp, my body shaking, my hand milking every last drop from my throbbing shaft while the morning light keeps pouring through that glass wall.
When I finally look up again—
Neddie is watching me.
He turned around somewhere in the middle of it. I didn't even notice.
He's smiling.
Not angry. Not surprised. Just this slow, amused smile like he's been aware the whole time.
Then he walks outside.
Barefoot across the warm stone. Calm as anything.
I'm still catching my breath when he reaches me. He kneels down in front of me like it's the most natural thing in the world and rests his hands on my chest.
My body jerks again, the last tremor breaking loose, another wave of warmth splashing across his broad chest and stomach in the morning sun. It drips down his skin, pooling in the hollow of his throat.
He doesn't flinch.
He just stands up, leans in, and kisses me. Soft. Brief. Warm.
"Good morning," he says with a quiet grin.
Then he turns, walks back into the suite, and goes right back to his laptop like none of it was strange at all.
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