Body Language. Queen

Steamy Shower.

Freddie's P.O.V.

"Oh...thank you." I said, reeled back by shock. Did he really want to get rid of me that quickly?

He shook his head, embarrassed, "Silly of me really...but umm, yeah, here you go." He stepped away from my suitcase and I looked at him suspiciously.

Why was he being so nice to me?

"You're just trying to get rid of me, aren't you." I faked a giggle to put him at ease.

"Of course not. I just knew you'd need your stuff so...I packed it for you." He shrugged.

"Anyway..." I grabbed the handle of my case, "...I'm only down the hall, 237...in case you need anything." I smiled awkwardly and then left.

I hurried to my room, literally a thirty second stroll away from the rest and unlocked the door. I locked myself in once I was in there and abandoned my case, making a bee line straight for the shower. I set the water running and hurriedly undressed.

I stepped in to the small shower cubicle and let the hot water run over my tense body, I wanted to wash away all the dirt and grime from last night...but also the shame and guilt about this fucked up situation with Brian.

Why was he being so nice?! I thought he'd hate me and refuse to even look at me. He was angrier when I broke his speaker.

What did he think now? Did he think that just because we'd had sex he was somewhat responsible for me? He had to be nice to me now?
Because it was just making me feel worse.

I lathered my body in the free complimentary hotel shower gel, my muscles still ached...my biceps...thighs...stomach.

I ran my fingers through my wet, short hair, it was nice not having long hair getting stuck to my face anymore...and Brian actually seemed to like it, even if he did stare at me like some kind of mythical creature.

I stood motionless in the shower, leaning against the tiled wall.

Why did John think Roger and myself had something going on? It reminded me of when Roger first told John he was gay and Deaky stormed out, thinking we were in some kind of relationship and he'd missed out on being with Rog.

I mean Jesus, if John really thought I was fucking Rog then please...I'd rather actually have Roger do me a favour and let me fuck him so John isn't actually going insane with some false thought.

Wow. That was incredibly shallow of me to think. Of course I would never fuck Roger, or John for that matter.

But it had been months and I was still getting by with just my overused hand.

I thought about Brian last night and all the other times I've thought about him whilst masturbating to aid an orgasm to happen quicker. A tiny smile pulled at the corner of my lips, I wonder what Brian would think if I told him that all of my orgasms these last few months had been endured whilst I could see him in my mind.

Bloodyhell, no wonder he packed my stuff for me, he just wanted rid of me as quickly as possible.
I couldn't blame him.

I looked down at my cock that had obviously been listening to my thoughts and had liked the sound of them, sticking up in the air like a fucking antenna.

I growled a little, bumping my head back onto the tiles in annoyance, desperately wanting somebody else to take care of me rather than myself. I missed the attention...and I missed hearing somebody else's moans.

I loved to please other people the most, I loved to watch them as they contorted between utter glee and then their smiles melted away into faces of pleasure.
I loved to make them wriggle and writhe and I loved to listen the their sweet moans and groans...the greatest reward to listen to.

I sighed heavily as throughout my thoughts my hand had already wandered down to my erection that had been brought on by...nothing, really.

I closed my eyes as my fingertip teased my head and I tried to forget that it was actually me...and not somebody else, that was pleasing me. Again.

I ached for someone to be knelt on their knees, their tongue flicking my tip...and not my fingers. I wanted to grasp a handful of hair and push them onto my cock...teasingly slowly.

I groaned quietly, my eyes still closed as my fingers wrapped around my shaft and dragged themselves down my length...really trying to mimic the feeling of moist lips engulfing me.

But it just wasn't the same.

My mind kept racing anyhow, continuing to create this scenario of somebody blowing me in the shower...and all too soon...my imagination brought a face into it. Of course, it was the guitarist.

I could almost feel Brian's curly hair tangled around my fingers that grabbed at a handful and kept his head in the position that liked, making him take more of me down his throat, little by little.

But in reality, it was just my fingers that were pumping up and down my stiff cock that was dripping with water from the still steamy shower.

Maybe I was getting impatient and the feeling of my hand was not satisfying enough when in comparison to having my dick in Brian's mouth but I found myself going ridiculously fast just to get it over with.

I shaky breath came from my chest  and my knees were weak as the pleasure built up inside of me.

My teeth clenched together as a low growl vibrated my throat.

I was so fucking close to cumming and then...

"Freddie?! Fred, are you in here?!"

I couldn't stop. I didn't know who it was...the bathroom door was not locked and they could walk in at any point to see me tossing myself off in the shower.

"Freddie?!"

I had to be Roger. Only his voice squeaked like that.

"Be out...in a minute! Mmm..." I shouted without being able to stop a moan escape my lips.

I was on the brink of orgasm and usually...I was loud. I panicked, shoving a finger between my teeth and biting down on it ridiculously hard to suppress my squeals as my cock pulsated in my hand and my cum shot from me...immediately being washed away by the torrents of water produced by the still running water that had now gone cold.

I continued to bite on my finger until the last waves of intense pleasure completely disappeared and all that was left was my heavily beating heart rate.

I turned off the water and hurriedly stepped out of the shower, grabbing the nearest towel and wrapping it around my waist to cover the erection that still hadn't gone down, I felt bad for leaving Roger waiting...but only he would walk in when I'm just about to cum. Typical.

I dashed out and into the main room, "Sorry for keeping you waiting, darling, I-" my voice trailed off when Roger turned around to face me, "Roger...why are crying?!"