It's a fantasy, but except for the moment when he discovers me, everything else is real and the colleague exists.

I'm a 23-year-old guy, I lead a heterosexual life and I'm male. No one would imagine that, in truth, I feel a lot of morbid curiosity with the idea of fantasizing about licking the soles of another guy's shoes or colleague, and that it would remain a strict secret between both of us, among other humiliations. The thing is that in the summer, among all my colleagues, there was one who caught my attention a lot. Even though I always pretended to be the toughest with him, and he didn't suspect anything, besides knowing my girlfriend, I loved to discreetly stare at his spectacular ass, his attractiveness, his small crest, and his increasingly pronounced muscles that each year got more defined with his gym routines. I also loved organizing bike routes with him because, since I was slower and behind, he often went shirtless and I could stare at his ass moving very close to me as he pedaled.

Another thing I loved was when he asked me to record a jump of his into the pool or take a photo of him from behind while showing off his muscles for Instagram in the pool.

The thing is that one of the days I was riding my bike to a beach town very close to mine, where my colleague lives, to later go play a soccer match that our summer friends' group organized, I got a little dizzy and had to continue walking due to the tremendous heat on a full August day at 4 pm in this area. When I arrived at his house, he offered me a refreshment, since he doesn't drink any type of alcohol, he's obsessed with a healthy life, and due to my little dizziness, it was the best thing to recover. Also, he's alone in that house in the summer because, due to fights with part of his family, they leave him alone for a few weeks. Certainly, it's another thing that gives me morbid curiosity about him, the "scally" attitude has always turned me on, and the guy has a reputation for being a bit of a bully and a gang member, the complete opposite of me, who's a more preppy guy who goes unnoticed.

The truth is that I still don't know how I could commit such a fatal error, leaving my mobile phone on the coffee table in his living room. I suppose that, having been dizzy recently, I didn't have my head very clear. Another mistake, if possible worse than the first, was not deleting the gay porn photos and videos related to humiliation and my morbid curiosities that I had in abundance on my phone in the gallery. I think I also didn't imagine that my colleague would pick up the phone or take a look.

When I returned from the bathroom and splashed water on my face, my colleague was quite silent, and he also had my phone in his hand. Then he said the following:

"Hey, dude, you left your phone. Or should I call you a filthy faggot? You could have at least put a pin or some stupid block on it."

I don't know if my colleague was homoph...