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by ccallenreese

I came out of the bathroom and he wasn’t in the room. A new tray was on the bed, the pot of mint tea steaming, along with two plates of fig cookies, puffed pastries, and candied violets. I went to investigate to see if he was on the balcony and there he was. If I had picked up a saucer and cup, I would have dropped it at the sight of him.

Those spindly legs went on for absolutely ever, melting into a pair of black stiletto heels he’d pilfered after my sister left them in the courtyard. He’s bent over at the waist, jutting out that small ass I enjoyed so much while he keened out underneath me. His back rolls like a sandbar on the seafloor. The masculine way his arms bulge with muscle contrasting with delicate ankles and such sexy footwear shortens my breath.

I pad over to him, not caring at all if my feet get dusty, and rub his buttocks. He motions to stand up but I keep him bent over and part his thighs with my hands. Even with his heels on, I’m tall enough to mount him and in one motion I’m inside him again, his ass still wet and lubricated from our last session. He starts to protest as I stretch his sore ring of muscle but I shush him. There are people milling in the courtyard below, so he’ll have to be quiet if no one is to hear us.

When our testicles are pressed together, I allow him a moment to adjust before I start up again while gripping his hips. I set a slow steady pace, in no great hurry to cum. He remains silent, squeezing the balcony to steady us as I thrust. It takes perhaps 15 minutes or so for my orgasm to build and then it washes it over me like spilled tea in the lap. I rest my cheek on his spine and roll my hips, ejaculating into his body. His breathing is ragged and he gasps when I pull out of him with a ‘pop’. My seed drips out of him and onto the back of the shoe. I walk backward a few steps and examine the scene I created. “Gods, you are beautiful.” I murmur. I make him stand like that, freshly used and leaking, while I drink my tea. It’s only when the bottom of the cup is visible that I allow him to go wash.

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by ccallenreese

I used to buy my paper from Milou every day on my way to private finishing school because it made me feel like an adult. I eventually entered a local college and later followed my father into business. He was still there though, pitching papers and herding the younger boys, running around Paris barefoot. As Milou matured, he stirred feelings in me that were a terrible distraction to the supposed single heterosexual bachelor life I was supposed to live.

When I got my first paycheck, I lured him into an alley and asked him if he knew what men sometimes did together. He said he did. I had the feeling I wasn’t the first, but I was too horny to care. He became my drug. A couple times a week I’d leave home early in the morning and we’d disappear behind a building together, him on his knees with my cock in his mouth. I paid him well because he left me gasping.

One day I found him in his usual alley sitting next to a brand new pair of burnished red brown boots. “Yours?” I asked. He nodded. So that’s what he bought with the money I’d been giving him? Not alcohol or cards or probably not even rent. A pair of shoes. I had like five pairs in my closet. Guilt flooded through me. I’d been exploiting a poor newspaper seller so he can buy a pair of shoes. How can he look at me without contempt?

“Why aren’t you wearing them?” I asked.
“It’s not winter yet…no point in getting them dirty. Besides I have to buy socks first.”

I stared at him. Was he implying me that I should unzip my pants so he could buy a pair of socks? The whole situation struck me as ridiculous as it was vulgar.
“Why haven’t you asked me to just give you a pair of socks?” I said, frustrated with his contentment with his poverty.
Milou replied, “Well I ask, I’m a begger. If you give, I’m a charity case. If I buy, I’m a citizen.”
“How can you lower yourself to such standards to sucking cock for something as basic as socks?" 
That struck a spark in him, "Those are your standards! You well-to-do nouveau riche types are so preachy to anyone that doesn’t live a good Christian life like you do. Who said I was lowering myself anyway? I like sucking your cock thank you very much.”
I was torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to kiss him. I balled my gloved fists as the color rose to my face, “You’re coming home with me.”
“…What?” he blinked.
“How old are you now? Your 20s I presume? Have you thought at all about the future? You have no savings, no education. Are you still going to be sucking my cock in this alley when you’re 40?” Now there’s that look of contempt missing from earlier. “My apartment has an extra room. I don’t care if you sell newspapers until you’re dead, but I want you to stay with me. It’s warm and dry. I’ll pay you a fair wage to mind the house. Whether ‘minding the house’ includes sucking or riding my cock, that’s up to you.”

Milou didn’t answer right away, so I let him stew in the reality of his situation. I glanced at my watch. Drat. I’d wasted our coveted time together on lecturing him and now I had to go catch my train. I pulled a legal pad out of my briefcase and jotted my address in the corner, which I ripped off and gave to him. “I’m off work at 6:30, if you want to stop by after that. Think about it. I would like to see you again…either way.” I tipped my hat and turned to go. Milou stuttered something after me, but a little girl ran into the alley with an empty messenger bag full of coins and work called.

Milou didn’t appear at my doorstep that evening. Nor the one after it. On the third night, there was a telegram left in my mailbox. It was from the police.

[To be continued]

I like (pt 2: The Electric Boogaloo)

I like (pt 2: The Electric Boogaloo)

by ccallenreese

Here’s the first one.

Misc Tumblrs:
gayboykink – A locked boy with an incredible soft and smooth body and a great jawline. Those OC posts make m’day.
bookofbaitnate – Gender debate threads, hot pic reblogs, and sometimes even his own captions. I like his caption style, kinda goofy and hot at the same time. Nate’s a nice guy too.
ownedhypnoslv & chasteslvdog – I’m not 100% sure but I think they’re both locked by the same keyholder? Either way, they’re both well trained boys and post lots of pics of their locked and dripping cocks.

Tumblrs I use as sources:
sorrygirlsisuckcock – I get an enormous amount of material from here. I dunno what I’ll do if that Portuguese guy stops reblogging.
dijkstra0 – Good source for BDSM pics like pups, slaves, subs, etc.,
wizmut – Oddly enough, not full of golden showers, just hot gay stuff.
leatherhostage – So much manliness, not enough time.
thepornoprince – This guy loves his gay sex, I’ll tell ya what.

There are a lot more but I wanna save some for next time around. I’d also like to take a little space and just mention some music too, if that’s alright.

What I listen to when writing:
Chairlift – Evident Utensil – The weirdest music video I’ve ever seen, all their music is so groovy. Synthpop, avant garde.
ANATAKIKOU – message pie – Soft alt rock from Japan. Upload here. Log-in raja_uae2006@yahoo.com, password 123456pk.
LCD Soundsystem – This is Happening – This album has been on repeat the last few days. Love Dance Yourself Clean. Dance/pop.
The Oh Hellos – Through The Deep, Dark Valley – I’ve mentioned these guys before, but this is one of my favorite albums. Folk/indie pop.
89.9 KCRW – a fantastic public radio station based out of Santa Monica, California. They have an online 24 hour music broadcast; if you can get the station on the dial they play NPR during the weekdays and handpicked DJ sets at night and on weekends. I learn of so many new bands through KCRW.

Anyway. That’s it for now. I got another Lucien post in the works, this time about a client that starts with R. Thanks for reading, liking, and reblogging, everyone!

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by ccallenreese

youthfuldominance:

Patiently waiting for his Sir to come home. Not simply because the boy is horny, but because he adores his Sir and misses him. Submission need not be highly sexual. It is a devotion to another. It can be a form of love.  

Henry has his own spots around the house, his pillow in the living room, his futon next to Sir’s bed, his customary spot under the table, but this one is his favorite. The view isn’t much, just the porch railings and some buildings outside but it’s the sounds that matter. Here is the only spot where he can hear Sir’s bicycle as it comes down the alley to the garage. There are a lot of bikes in Amsterdam but over months Henry learned to distinguish the sound of tires and brakes and pick his Sir out of them all. The anticipation is the best part, both the waiting for the right sound with his head tilted and the long seconds between Sir putting his bike away in the mudroom and coming up the stairs. Henry will bound to the door, wiggling and turning in impatient circles.

All those hours apart have left the sub missing his Sir and so eager to see him again. The house is clean, rugs beaten, dinner prep is done, the plants are watered, there’s fresh sheets on the bed and so many other little things. Henry just wants to feel a heavy hand on his head and those short nails scratching his scalp behind his ear and be told what a good boy he is.

When Sir comes through the door he presses himself up against his slacks and nuzzles his crotch murmuring a “Welcome home Sir”, oblivious to his cock dripping all over his shoe. The new jockstrap helps with the leaking, but only so much when he gets excited. Henry is kept locked so often, he often forgets about it until he’s forced to lick the mess off his Sir’s Oxfords. He often hopes his Sir will give him an opportunity to pleasure him but Sir says a horny boy is an obedient one. Henry understands, but he hasn’t been exercised yet today and is full of energy and cum and joy that his Master is home so he’s a bit hard to control. Luckily, Sir always knows what to do.

“I’m home boy, hello. Woah, hello!” he caresses his sub’s head, “Down boy. Down. Good boy. Now, go to the bedroom and get on the bed position 2. You can lick my shoes clean later, I’m horny as hell!” he commanded as he loosened his tie.
“Yes sir!” Henry is gone in a flash.