Random my loveprize in viewfinder stories.

Takaba woth leather by sunflower1343

Akihito got it in the mail. It was addressed to the previous occupant of the apartment. He'd received a lot of mail for the guy the first couple of months he'd lived there, but this was nine months after the fact. He hadn't been able to find the man then, so he knew there was no hope of finding him now. So he had opened it.

It looked to be a custom job. The tooling was quality, the materials top notch. The letter that came with it apologized for the delay, citing personal problems by the craftsman, and assuring that he had maintained the highest quality standards in making the piece.

Akihito's first impulse was to shove it into the trash, under some newspapers. But instead, he reached out and ran his finger along the leather. It was cool and supple under his fingertip. The sensation traveled from the end of his hand to his groin. He blushed, then closed the box up and shoved it under his bed. He couldn't put it in the apartment trash. Someone would see it. He would get rid of it some other way. Sometime later.

With that settled he went to work.

He was scheduled to take pictures of a Go tournament. Exciting stuff. Not. He found his thoughts wandering as the players placed their stones on the goban. Their fingertips on the cool stones only reminded him of stroking the leather. He wondered it the other pieces felt as hard and cool as the stones looked. His pants were tightening around his groin, and he felt a warmth to his left and a hand on his ass.

A voice whispered in his ear. "It takes me the same way, watching a good game. Perhaps we can discuss moves afterwards?"

Akihito blushed and stuck his elbow in the pervert's side and quickly left the room, his assignment forgotten. How embarrassing, to be taken for a pervert Go player. He'd never live this down if Kou found out about it. He cursed the previous tenant of his apartment and headed for home. He was going to get rid of it immediately.

He boarded the train and stood to the side, his mind racing for a way to dispose of the thing without it being tracked to him. He could leave it on a train he supposed. But what if some do-gooder noticed he left it? Then ran after him with it and happened to look inside? Or what if some granny found it and had a heart attack. No, that wouldn't do. He would just wait until the middle of the night, then put it in a nearby dumpster. No one would ever find it, and even if they did, it wouldn't be traced to him because he'd take the address off the box.

That settled, he relaxed. Into the front of a much taller man.

"That's much better," the man said softly. "You were so tense. I can help you release some tension." And he reached around to the front of Akihito's pants, rubbing the still noticeable arousal. Akihito instinctively arched into it, then realized just what he was doing and where. He tore the man's hands from his body and shoved him across the car. He ran out as soon as the car stopped at the next exit.

What was it with guys today? Did he have some kind of kind of sign on him that said "Molest me"? He trudged home the extra few miles caused by his early departure from the train and was in none too good a mood by the time he got there. He stormed into the apartment and pulled the box out from under the bed. He hesitated. He should probably check to make sure there was nothing else in the box that could point to him.

He sat on the bed and removed all the leather straps, the buckles, the plugs, the snaps, the screws, and the long hardened glass fittings. The box was empty. He looked at all the pieces and sniggered. How the heck did it fit together? He checked the box. There were no instructions. He tossed the box onto the floor. He could dismantle a camera, clean it, and put it back together. This should be a breeze.

He sat cross-legged on the bed and started attaching things. Screwing this in here, strapping that up there. He had to kind of fit it to himself while he worked, to get an idea if he was putting it together properly. Every time he held it up to himself, every time it brushed against him, he felt a little more excited by it. It felt so....naughty. So dirty. So good. He dropped the harness (for he could see that's what it was), and stared in horror at it. How could he even be thinking that way? It was almost like the getup Asami had him in that first time. Except it was made for solitary enjoyment.