Watching him pee

I watch him, audacious, as he takes aim,
Standing tall, defying societal shame.

His muscles tense, his balance firm,
He pees in the sink, an act so absurd.
I flick the ash, a coy smile on my face,
As I pretend it's a joke, an innocent embrace.

But deep inside, a fire ignites,
The sight, the sound, sets my soul alight.
He keeps on going, a never-ending stream,
And I struggle to hide my bewildered gleam.

His gaze flicks between the drain's gentle flow,
And my rapt expression, a desire I can't show.
This is the first private act I've ever seen,
No more doorways or fields, just him and me.

His scent fills the air, a chorus of sin,
Yet, I disregard, letting forbidden fervor begin.
The warmth envelopes, intoxicating my mind,
A fragrance unknown, mysterious, yet kind.

I'm entranced by his hands, his eyes, his fly,
As he shakes off the last few drops, my lips I now bite.
In this provocative moment, our connection so fierce,
Pissing as a performance, love's voyeurs we appear.