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by ccallenreese

dirtydaddythings:

Yes. This is how it’s done. Playful, dominant, affectionate and the smiling is infectious. Those are the moments I treasure.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” I say – not to be accusatory, but in some desperate attempt to hint that I need reassurance.
“Of course I do. I did a lot of research, talked to people, watched videos… when you told me you were going to be ready for this soon, my heart about exploded. I wanted it to be such a sweet experience for you.”
I smile. My cheeks hurt from smiling already. “So it won’t hurt?”
“It shouldn’t. Not if I take care of you properly. God I love you so much that you want me to do this.” Our lips meet and I momentarily drift off in our kiss.
“I love you so much,” he repeats. “I’m just so honored that you trust me, that you want me inside you, to take you…” The kisses trail down my clavicle. “I’ve been hungry to experience this for a long time now. Sex, love-making – what the fuck is the fuss all about?”
I chuckle. “I hear it feels pretty good. I mean our G-spots are up inside us…”
“Mmnn…” he purrs, rubbing his palms down my thighs. “I’m going to find yours, baby.”
I shudder. “Promise?”

He tosses my underwear to the side, and I’m now naked in his lap. My cock is dark red and hard between me, front and center. The thrill over-riding the shame excites me. He captures my mouth again. “Promise.”

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

flashdoggy:

Today, September 21, is World Gratitude Day. What are YOU grateful for?

Him. I’m grateful for him. Waking up every morning in his bed, in this giant bed with the high-count Egyptian sheets. Warm coastal waters tinted with the scent of sage roll in from the window. Sure, the bed is comfy, the room is huge, and the view is incredible, but I would sleep in a motel bedroom by an overpass in a crime-infested area as long as we were together. This is love. He loves me. Every time I think about this, my heart feels warm like someone is filling it with water from the kettle. It radiates out until my hands and feet tingle. He really loves me.

I thought after we broke up in college, that was going to the end of my chance to be happy. I knew he was the only one I’d ever be happy with. He was lost however, and drowning in the responsibilities of university. “I am not worthy of you, and I can’t be a good partner for you right now,” he told me, sobbing.  “I’m dropping out, going home, and figuring things out.”

I dreaded what that meant. But lo and behold, he got into programming, took local courses, and began to freelance. By the time I walked across the stage for my degree and into an entry-level job, he had made his first million releasing apps.

I watched, fascinated and a bit envious, as my soulmate rose high above me. Forgetting me, surely. But one day, he called me. My number was still the same after all, but his had changed. He called me and said, “I’m deeply apologetic for not calling you sooner. I thought about you every day. I just wanted to be a good partner for you, and worthy of you. Wou- ahem, would you like to come visit me in California?”

He stilled sounded exactly the same – cautious and hopeful. I said yes and got on that plane. The second I saw him at LAX, a smile burst onto my face and tears floated in my eyes. “James,” I choked out, and then he saw me. He ran to me and crushed me in a hug. People aww’ed. When he kissed me, I didn’t stop him, I just cupped his chin and kissed him right back.

From then on, we just picked up where we left off. We never discussed it, because there was no need. I was his, and he was mine, and now our lives could begin.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

fuckyeahdudeskissing:

Fuck Yeah Dudes Kissing. A place to see men kiss on Tumblr. Submit a kiss.

“Good morning.”
“Oh there you are. I was wondering where you went. I woke up, and the bed was empty.”
“Aww, don’t pout. I went to put on the coffee pot,” Damien replied.
“Mmn, coffee.”
“And look, I brought a friend,” Damien said with a smile, holding up Dustball.
“Aww you brought the chinchilla! Aw come here, baby, daddy wants to say hi,” Tristan cooed, holding out his hands.
Damien passed him their pet and Tristan snuggled the little fuzzball to his bare chest. “Aw you are so cute. Good morning.” He gave the chinchilla a kiss.
“What?” Damien said, “I don’t get one?”
“You made me wake up with a empty bed,” Tristan teased.
Damien scoffed and crawled back in. “Am I such a bad boyfriend that I wanted to kiss you with a clean mouth?”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m gonna get it dirty again. Get over here.” Tristan leaned forward and pushed against Damien for a deep, morning kiss.
“Mmnn….mmnnnn…oh god you are so good at this,” Damien chuckled.
“Cause you got the best lips, I swear,” Tristan replied. For a moment he forgot he was holding the chinchilla, until Dustball begin to squirm.
“Oh, I think our baby wants his breakfast,” Tristan noted, pulling away regretfully..
“I want breakfast,” Damien replied.
“So do I but…”
“But what?” Damien asked.
“Fuck me before coffee?” Tristan begged, reaching forward to rub Damien’s half mast erection under the sheets.
Damien moaned softly. “You fucking bet I will. Go feed your baby, then bring me the lube.”
“We can’t just…do it first?” Tristan asked, distracted.
“You want Dustball to watch us having sex?” Damien asked.
Tristan looked down at the thing, and made a face. “Ookkaay Dustball let’s go get your breakfast.”
Damien laughed. “Bring coffee when you come back! I got the lube right here.”

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Captions are fictional. Lol, that chinchilla, wth.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Give.”
“Rufffff.”
“Pup, give.”
Instead, Brock bounces back, tail wagging. He bends his arms and ducks down, bounding out of my way.
I rub my forehead. You spend all this time training your pup, and one of these days you know he’s going to outsmart you. And that time came. Pup Brock knows he’s supposed to ‘give’ when you ask, or face a spanking, and 99% of the time, Pup Brock gives. But Brock also discovered the game of keep-away, and learned that if it’s a game, he doesn’t get punished. Fuck me right?
“Puppy!”

But he’s gone, in the other room, lead still clenched in his teeth. That lead is supposed to be in your hand. You take off your jacket. The only way to get it back is to wrestle it from him. Pup wants to play? Pup has no idea who he’s going up against.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

I couldn’t find a picture to go with this caption, so if anybody finds one that fits, send it to me and I will post one!

Brady was struck with a thought. He was barefoot, wearing jean shorts, an old cropped tank, and had a six month old on his hip. Old country music played from the radio. There was chili in the crockpot, and bread rising on the counter, next to a jar of cucumbers he pickled himself which was going to be opened for dinner. From the kitchen window, Brady could see the Camaro on blocks his husband was currently working on in his spare time – and nearly had running.
“Holy shit,” Brady muttered, “My mother was right. I am white trash.” He could taste bitter resentment on the back of his mouth, and hear his mother’s words in his head.
“You think you’re so much better than me Brady, but it doesn’t matter whether you’re a fag or not, you’ll still be white trash just like me.”
Brady stood there, bouncing Amelia who was chewing on his shirt, thinking about this. His mother was white trash for sure: confederate flags and cigarettes and tramp stamps she got after 40. She’d also tried to steal his hot boyfriend once,

and Brady had retaliated by successfully stealing her boyfriend. Ok, that was trashy.

When Brady shifted again, the plug inside of him hit a particularly nice spot and

he inhaled sharply. Brady had stuffed in after their morning sex, when he didn’t have time to clean out when Amelia started to cry.

“I’m not white trash am I?” Brady asked Amelia, unable to shake this little nagging flea in his ear that said this cute little home he had made for their family in the country was really an illusion and he was just a hick.

Brady frowned. He found his cell phone and called Derrick at work.
“Hi honey,” Derrick answered. Brady smiled. Every time Brady called him at work, Derrick always sounded so delightfully surprised to hear from him.
“Hi Derry,” Brady replied. “How’s work?”
“Going well,” he answered, “We resolved a big land dispute today, so I’m pleased I don’t have to hear the words ‘oil rights’ again today.”
Brady giggled. “Oil is such a funny word.”
“It really is. So what’s up. How’s Amelia?”
“Adorable as usual. I think she’s gonna be teething soon.”
“Oh boy,” Derrick chuckled. “Grouchy baby.”
“Let’s hope not,” Brady replied. “She’s sleeping through the night now.”
“That she is. So…why did you call?’

Brady paced around the kitchen. “Honey, do you think I’m white trash?”
Derrick made a noise like he choked on water. “I’m sorry what?”
“Do you think I’m white trash?”
“Why on Earth would you think that?”
“Cause I’m barefoot in the kitchen with a baby on my hip, I’m listening to Merle Haggard, and we got a car on blocks in the front yard. I think Ol Jim is shooting at squirrels again too. I can hear the noise.”
“Honey,” Derrick repeated. “I don’t think you’re white trash. Why on Earth would you think that? And what’s wrong with being barefoot in the kitchen? It’s summer, and you want to be comfy. Are you still wearing those same jean shorts as when I left?”
“Yeah,” Brody replied, smiling a little.
“Fuck, I love those shorts on you. They make your legs looks so long and your ass pop out.”
“Derry~” Brody said.
“You are a beautiful, strong boy who casted off what the entire world said how a man should be, and you found a slice of happiness in a beautiful place, and I’m so damned lucky to live there and share it with you. You’re caring and sweet and sarcastic; you can fix anything, use a sewing machine, and make the best bread. You’re a competant, talented adult. You’re not white thrash, Brady, you’re white gold.”

Brady sniffled. “Derry that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. I needed to hear that. I love you so much.”
“Aww Brady, I wish I could hug you right now.”
“Hug me when you get home?”
“Oh I will,” Derrick swore. “What brought this on by the way?”
“My mom,” Brady admitted.
“Did she call?” Derrick demanded.
“No. I just – you know, she was a crazy bitch. Sometimes she just gets into my head. I worry a lot I’m going to turn out just like her, which makes me especially nervous because I want Amelia to turn out right.”
“Honey, the fact that you think that mean she already will.”
“I hope so,” Brady agreed. “I just, I …well, I think part of me is also a little sad my mother never found a man who took care of her.”
Derrick made a noise in his throat of agreement. “Mmn. But your mother was also not the type of person who would let that kind of man into her life. She craved drama and attention. I think she probably met that man and drove him away.”
“That’s sad too,” Brady said.
“It is,” Derrick agreed. “But she knew her problems and had to fix them herself. You can’t carry her burdens.”
“Oh I won’t. I got enough to carry considering how big Amelia is getting.”
Derrick chuckled. “I can hear her babbling. Are you alright now love? I need to take care of some things here.”

“Oh, sorry, love. I"m fine. I feel…much better now. And uh, also kind of horny.”
“Horny?” Derrick perked up.
“OH yeah, the plug is still in.”
“Shit,” Derrick cursed. “…Did you eat lunch yet?”
“Huh? No, I was just getting to that.”
“Don’t. I’ll bring some BBQ home from Mack’s. I’m gonna take that plug out with my teeth”
It was Brady’s turn to groan. “Bless you.”
Derrick exhaled. “Let me just do this one thing and I’ll head over ok?”
“You betcha, sweetheart. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye Brody.”
“Bye Derry.”

Brody hung up and smiled. He set the phone down and switched Amelia to the other hip. “You hear that? Daddy’s gonna come home and see you.”
She babbled at him.
“I’m white gold. Did you hear that too? I’m white gold. He’s gonna keep me forever and ever.”
Amelia blinked at him and drooled on his shirt, giving him one of those big breathtaking baby smiles

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

drakestories:

Mark cranked up the throttle and we sped away from the rocky shore of his dock. “Tell me this wasn’t a good idea,” he smiled as the cool Maine breeze blew on our faces. I couldn’t see his eyes behind the aviator sunglasses but I could tell he was eying my shirtless body up and down.

I leaned back in the plush leatherette seats and spread my legs. “This was a good idea, all right. Thanks for having me up, Mark.”

“I’ve missed having a young stud around this summer,” he said matter of factly and turned the boat about 10 degrees as we went out straight into the open water.

Mark Davis was a very well preserved 47 years old and as about as much a catch as you’d expect a DILF like him to be. Successful in his career, friendly guy, an amazing fuck, and with a head of silvery hair that always made me weak at the knees. On the con side, he was a moody, self-centered workaholic. We’d dated about a year before calling it off and deciding to be friends. We didn’t see each other a lot but we stayed in touch. Mark could get a little flirty still, and I could get a lot flirty back, so maybe it wasn’t healthy hanging out with my ex like this, but neither one of us could seem to resist it.

“Dude, you could have any young buck up here you wanted and you know it,” I shot back.

Mark didn’t answer but just gave me a knowing smile that told me that maybe he did have a young buck or two up to his second house this summer. Just like I’d found a steady college baseball coach fuckbuddy who was letting me work out a lot of daddy kinks in his bed.

The tailwind started to feel cool, cold even, on my bare chest, but I also liked the freedom of Summer, of being out on the water, of letting my nipples pop up into stiff nubs from my smooth muscular pecs. I had really kept in shape lately, six pack abs, toned muscle, a little more bulk than when Mark met me, and little less body fat. My chest hair was starting to come in thicker now that I was officially in my mid-20s, but I’d waxed for the summer, giving me a smooth look. Mark seemed to like it, at least he seemed to be staring at my torso a lot, which made me feel pretty good.

We got out a good ways and Mark cut the throttle, bringing us down to a good coasting speed. We tooled around the harbor and he at last said he knew of an island to show me. It was one of the smaller ones in the harbor, and further out, but it had an inlet cove. As we entered it felt like a hidden paradise. Pure New England beauty. And us.

Mark killed the engine and we floated. “Whaddya think?”

“Wow,” I said. “I’d have a hard time getting back to civilization.”

“Tell me about it,” he said looking around. God he looked hot in his black polo shirt and shorts, his hairy legs splayed out in front of him. “I’m thinking of taking an early retirement if the market does well.”

“Good for you,” I said. “I gotta lot more years of work ahead of me.”

“What are you? 25?” he asked, knowing full well my exact age. I nodded affirmatively. “How’s work going?” he asked.

“Work’s work. I’m making almost as much doing personal training on the side.”

“I can see why,” he said, now clearly staring at my body again. “Those guys would pay extra just for an up close look at your body, Jim.” Then, “you look better every time I see you.”

I was starting to get turned on by his attention and the thought in the back of my head that something might happen between us again. This weekend, maybe on this boat. It was probably wasn’t the right thing, but I was getting turned on by the idea and felt my crotch start to chub in my shorts.

“You do too, man,” I replied. “Seriously, Mark, you look great.”

Another knowing smile. “I didn’t think you’d accept my invitation,” he finally said.

I gulped a little. It was what our conversation had been dancing around since I arrived earlier that day. “Why not?” I countered. “I always liked hanging out. Even if it didn’t work out between us dating wise.”

I couldn’t see the look in his eyes behind the sunglasses but I could tell he was staring at me, at my body. “Is this what we’re doing? Just hanging out?”

I sat, stunned silent, as he switched off the motor and scooted toward me. His lips felt surprisingly soft, given the suntanned roughness of his skin. It was like I remembered, only better. Mark’s the best kisser I knew and had known, hands down. We made out and impetuously, he gripped my wrist hard and pulled it down to his crotch. The man’s hung, not insanely big, but bigger than average. It took several months before I leaned to suck him properly and another couple before I could get fucked without discomfort. I had a feeling now it would be like riding a bicycle… just climb right on after all this time.

Very nice. That’s likely not the first time that boat has been christened.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

The duel was over. Centrus had won. He sheathed his sword and strode up to the slave bound to a pole. Behind him, the healers were tending to his opponent left bleeding in the ring on the floor. Centrus still wondered if not killing that asshole was the right thing to do, considering he’d bribed a judge and robbed Centrus out of what was rightfully his – but at least now people thought he himself was merciful. And a lot of people had been there. Not everyday a warrior challenges another over the ownership of a slave. Usually it’s over a woman of high standing or something. Centrus the Merciful, Challenger of Slaves, had a certain ring to it anyhow.

Centrus paused in front of his new property and lifted the trembling boy’s chin with his thumb. “Don’t panic, little one. You’re safe now, because you are mine. I won’t neuter you, which is illegal anyway. I won’t whip you. I won’t starve you. When I sheath my cock in you, it won’t cause you any pain. Only the sweetest pleasure. You should be happy little one, as you have been spared from cruelty.”
The slave began to weep and Centrus clucked. He ordered the naked boy taken down so he could carry him back to his chariot. It was time to take home his prize and clean him up and see what was under all of that dirt.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

mastera6:

A collar is such a simple thing yet it states so much.

Eddy reached up and touched the leather for the seventh thousand time that day. It was his first time wearing it out of the house, and he just felt like a million dollars – polished, well-dressed, and handsome. Now that he was working a real, grown-up job, he could afford nice clothes and his Master had shown him the best places to shop – and the benefits of a tailor. His body was staring to show the work of all that time in the gym too, and Eddy felt like he was transforming. People glanced at his ass in public now; women’s eyes lingered on his face. He’d gone from a fat slob to a prime cut of tenderloin, and god, it felt great! Eddy dropped his hand. He had to remember to be humble and not be spoiled or narcissistic. He reveled in the benefits but the process was not his. This was his Master’s work.

His Master – bless him, for Eddy didn’t know how he did it – looked at the nasty piece of trash he used to be and saw how miserable he was. The transition to healthiness and fruitfulness had been brutal, and Eddy had wanted to quit and drown himself in pizza and porn so many times. If he hadn’t started falling for his Master and the reward of sex with him, then Eddy would have likely ran. But he didn’t. Looking back on it, Eddy realized what he wanted most of all wasn’t a smaller waistline, but love. He wanted to belong and be missed and be desired. His self-esteem was in such tatters, he couldn’t believe anyone would wish that upon him.

But his Master had. He’d taught Eddy so much that it was like going through college all over again. Four years of training, and they still weren’t done. Now though, it was more fun than ever. They had a bedroom just dedicated to kink and play, and his Master had perfected how to spank him in just the right way to make him cum without being touched…

Eddy shuddered. He hoped his Master fucked him when he got home from work tonight. He didn’t think he could crave dick until now – but god, his Master had such a strong and beautiful cock! It was a physical extension of his Master’s personality. He sighed dreamily and got on the train as it stopped in the station.

Eddy sat in a seat and absent-mindedly began to finger his collar again. The woman across the way eyed him. He smiled. He was his Master’s prize work, and he wanted everything to know it. Eddy was a success.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I gawked. He must have had 1% body fat on him. A pure male god of carved muscle – python thighs, a huge ass in high denim shorts, a triangle torso, big pecs… fuck he was hot! My dick thought so too. The man’s mouth was moving too, and it took a second for me to realize he was talking to me.

“I’m sorry what?” I said, shaking my head.
The man huffed. “Do you know where I could get a broom or a net or something? My hat blew into the water.” He pointed.

I looked. His baseball cap was floating on the water, thanks to the foam on the tracker style hat. The man looked distressed. “That’s my favorite hat,” he added. “My dad bought it for me, just before he died. Said it wasn’t right for a Mets fan to not have a hat.”
Holy shit, this guy was not only smoking hot, but also a Mets fan? The weird male urgency to do shit to impress people kicked in. “I got this.”
“What? You do?”

I took my phone, wallet, and keys out of my pockets. “Hold this.”
“What? Wait – you’re not-”
I threw my shirt on the dock, kicked off my sandals, and dove in. The water was cold and had an odd, marine smell to it, but it wasn’t terrible. The shock of the temperature felt pretty good because of the summer heat. I swam over to where the hat was bobbing and drifting away, and snatched it. The man cheered. Some people nearby clapped.

When I got to the dock, I gave the hot guy his hat back. He beamed at me. “Thank you so much man. Here, let me give you a hand.” He set down my stuff and hauled me out of the water with nearly one hand. Dude was strong!

I stood on the dock dripping. I pushed the water out of my eyes. “That was refreshing,” I stated.
The man was clutching his hat to his chest. “I can’t thank you enough. I um, was gonna do that but I’m scared of water where I can’t see the bottom,” he admitted.
My heart was racing. Hot, into the Mets, and sensitive – plus he had a good relationship with his dad. Prime boyfriend material. I swallowed. Please god let him be gay. “No problem man. I never got to know my dad, so I’m happy you got your hat back.”
The man smiled wistfully. “Sorry to hear that. Damn, you are wet. Ya know I don’t live that far from here. Why don’t you come over and dry off?”
Both of my eyebrows went up. “Uh. Bluh. I mean. Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”
His smile was radiant . “Awesome. Let’s go do that, get something to drink. You like craft beer? I got this sampler…”

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Captions are fictional.