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by ccallenreese

torontopup:

www.recon.com/torontoslave

“Such a heavy collar and chain. Locked up tight. Someone wanted a guard dog, it seems. But your diet is poor, and it is way too warm out here to leave you in leather pants. And look at this! Your water bowl has dried up in this heat. Poor puppy. You are too adorable to be neglected. You are at risk of heat stroke too. Don’t worry. we are going to take you back to the shelter where you’ll get a nice cool bath. We’ll have a stern talking with your owner too. If he doesn’t want the responsibility, well…I’d be happy to foster you.”

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Hold on! Pose, I’m gonna get a picture!” I raise my DLSR and shoot off a couple frames.
“You got it babe? The sun’s in my eyes.”
“Perfect,” I say, looking at the screen.
“Shit this ice cream is totally melting in this heat.”
“Mmn. Let me get that for you.” I grab hold of his wrist, and lick the back of his hand and his fingers.
He groans. “Fuck that turns me on so bad.”
I grin, and lick up, stealing a bit of his ice cream and a bit of cone.”
“Hey,” he laughs. “You know what dairy does to your stomach.”
“I’ll suffer,” I reply. I release his wrist and cup his chin, blessing him with a sticky, sweet ice-cream kiss. He groans again and pushes back against me. Our tongues meet and dance. It suddenly feels 10 degrees hotter outside. I break apart to keep from burning up. “Fuck…”
He blinks at me, dazed. “Damn, man. You are one smoking hot kisser.”
I smile. “I save that gift for cute guys I like on dates that I have fun on.”
“Oh? Ohh….” he says, figuring it out. “You think I’m cute?”
“Amongst other adjectives. Your ice cream is melting though,” I say, pointing.
“Shit,” he mutters, catching the drips with his tongue. I watch, and adjust myself. I smile. I can’t remember having this much fun on the beach.

“Hey uh, after you finish with that…”
“Hm?” he asks, busy eating his treat.
“Do you want to find a vacant space on the beach and have a little public fuck under the towel?”
His eyes go wide. “In public?” your boyfriend gasps.
“Oh yeah,” I purr, adjusting myself again. “You under me, trapped between a blanket, the heat of our other blanket on top of us. Me rutting into your tight ass, you leaking pre-cum from your trapped cock.”
He swallows, hard, and chews on the ice cream cone while never taking his eyes off of you. “Fuck that is so naughty…”
“You’re getting hard,” I murmur, feeling him through his shorts.
“Fuck how could I not? You have such a sexy mouth.”
I smirk. “I bet you’ll smell real good, under me, so tight and hot for me…”
He groans again. “Stop, stop. Let me finish the cone first.”
I chuckle and smack him on the ass. “Alright. While you finish that, let’s go find ourselves a private spot.”
“Fuck yeah. Let’s go get naughty.”

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

nobhilllife:

Maybe one day we’ll find the place where our dreams and reality collide 😴❤️💙👬

I knew this would happen. Or maybe, because I was trying to avoid it so much, that I subconsciously made it happen. I never wanted to be one of those jet-setting celebrities that has a bed warmer in every state, every country. I kept my relationships informal and professional, paying top dollar for secrecy. New York, however, was a problem, because I developed a crush on the guy who works at the bakery under my condo. I am far too old to develop crushes on boys, but nonetheless it happened. It took me a little while to figure out why I only went down there when I thought he worked. When he noted sore feet because he doesn’t have money to buy good shoes as a student, I bought him new kicks. I made him cry. He insisted on making dinner for me. So, I invited him upstairs because my kitchen was better equip..

And now he pretty much lives here. I like having someone to watch the place when I’m in Los Angeles, and also because he was sleeping on a sofa in a shitty apartment and had no privacy or quiet place to study. I have enough money that I don’t need his rent, and I like to think I’m ‘investing’ in his future by supporting him while he gets his degree. Of course, when you phrase it like that, it seems informal, like I’ve just hired a house-sitter.

But most house-sitters don’t sleep in your bed, or give you the most delicious teasing handjobs, or leave you a late-night snack when you get home at 4 am from shooting.

So, somehow I found myself having lots of wonderful mornings like these, which is him curled up on top of me asleep (he always gets up once to pee and comes back to bed), and me reading over a script I’ve been offered. Under our window, New York comes to life. When you travel a lot, you spend a lot of mornings waking up alone in hotel rooms. This, to me, is heaven

I just hope the tabloids never find out about this. I like to pretend on mornings like this that we are normal people, having normal lives. If the cameras show up, he’ll be driven away, I know it. He’ll run off in those shoes I bought him, and I’ll never see him again. Luckily, he understands the risk. We have cover stories in case we get surprised. But it makes me sad. I don’t want to live like this…but he doesn’t seem to mind. And if I can live like this now, and still have him, then I’ll do it for as long as I can. It’s nice to be in love.

I put an arm over his shoulder, lean in, and kiss his forehead. As long as I can.

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Captions are fictional. Can’t find source – anyone know?

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Thanks for coming all the way out here to see me.” We kiss.
“You don’t have to thank me. Your smile tells me all I need to know.”
That just makes me smile harder. “I’m serious. I know you hate traveling.”
“I do, but I came because of that text you sent,” David replies.
“Which one?” I ask, rubbing his arm. He’s gotten more muscular since I last saw him.
“The one where you were moping about ‘us’. You said you were surrounded by guys talk about how worried about their wives and girlfriends cheating on them, and how they didn’t believe you when you said your boyfriend wouldn’t do that.”
I blush. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to whine about that.”
“Don’t be. It’s a legit concern, and it does happen. But I wanted to show you I’m still faithful and I miss the shit out of you. I miss you enough to come all the way out here and see you.”
“Oh David,” I murmur.
“Oh no don’t cry!” David says, brushing my tears away.
“I miss you,” I whisper. I set my mug on the ground and warp my arms around him tight. “I can’t wait until this training thing is over and I get my assignment.”
“And where-ever it is, I’ll go.”
“Why are you so wonderful?“ I ask, crushing him in a hug.
David curls his arm up, and places his hand over my arm across his chest. “Because there is only one of you. I fell in love with you two hours after meeting, you, and I’m not letting you go.”

I lean in, and David kisses me gently. I part, and push back, seeking a long deep connection and losing myself in it.
“Fuck,” David breathes after we break. “Do you…do you have time to come back to my hotel?”
“I think I have an hour before I have to report,” I reply.
“Finish your coffee. We’re going to make it happen.”
I grin. “I am so glad you came to visit.”
“Me too. I just now noticed how hot you with a boner in uniform….”

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

puplink:

One squeaky toy for two puppies inevitably leads to some conflicts… *Grrrrrrr*

Sir held his breath as the moment of tension lingered. Both boys were staring each-other down, neither moved. Then, the pup on the right pulled, and the other boy pulled right back, and suddenly they were rolling around the ground in a flurry of limbs and masks. Sir jumped back as not to get caught in the fray. “Calm down boys!” he said, but the pups were wrestling and not listening. The toy was much more important. It wasn’t until one crashed into the bookcase and a book fell on him did Sir put the two boys in time out so they could calm down.

Still, with only one of that toy, he had a feeling his afternoon wasn’t about to get much calmer. He had mistakenly assumed that pupsitting a friend’s boy would keep his own boy busy, and thus work would get done – but Sir was mistaken. He was stuck playing referee! Sir had to admit though, it was fun to watch them…but he just wished they’d get tuckered out and take their naps already!

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“You’re really tense. You’re nervous, maybe a bit scared.”
“Y-yeah.”
Let me tell something – you’re thinking too hard. You’re thinking about the what-ifs, the whys, the maybes. Just think about the now.”
“But-but-”
I slide my hand down over his pectorals, brushing his nipple with my hand. He abruptly stops talking. “I can’t stand it anymore. You’ve been looking at me with this hunger in your eyes for years. You were too young before, barely 16, and I thought it would pass. Lusting after your friend’s older brother must have confused the heck out of you.”
“David-” Adin stammered.
“And I thought those feelings would pass. But look at you, on summer leave from college, and the hunger is still there. I don’t think you really love me. I think there’s just this one unturned stone you need to turn before you go back to college. So let’s turn it.”
He’s quiet again. “Does Brian know?”
“No, he doesn’t. If you want to tell my little brother that you’re gay, or bi, you can do it on your own. This isn’t about him. This is about you.”
“Me,” Adin repeats, sounding a bit distant.
I kiss his shoulder. “Yes. Would you at least, let me wash you?”

Another moment of silence, then he passes the soap over his shoulder. I smile. “Thank you.” I begin washing his back, his shoulders, his arms. I don’t linger too long on his ass, although I want to, and instead scrub every curve of his legs and feet. When I tell him to turn, he does. I start from the top again, moving the soap over his chest. I’m fascinated by how much he’s developed in two years of being at university. He’s turning into a man. There’s even a trace of abs… I watch the soapy water run into the light dusting of hair above his crotch. I move my hand down his stomach, and pause right before.
“Is it ok if I don’t stop?” I whisper.
After a moment, Adin rewards me with the briefest of nods. I smile. “Thank you.” I dip my fingers down, lathering up his fuzz. He makes a sharp inhale, and is watching me intentively. Without making a fuss, I gently hold and wash his cock and his balls, being tender and not squeezing too hard. I’m a bit surprised when Adin’s cock starts hardening before my eyes.
I watch it, fascinated. Then, I hear Adin say in a quaky voice. “You don’t have to stop if you don’t want to.”

Poor boy. He wants it so bad but is just too scared to scream out what he wants. I bet he would love it if I push himed against the wall and fucked his brains out. I bet he always wanted me to be his first. But…baby steps. I tell him thank you again, and wrap my fingers around his cock. It’s cut, and tight and hard. I give him a few practice strokes, and Adin begins to moan right away. I pressed up against him, rubbing my cock against his ass, while I stroke him. Adin’s body feels hot against me. I stroke him more eagerly and he pushes into my hand. I’m glad he can’t see me smiling.

I don’t say a word, as not to disturb his very sensitive moment of need. I just stroke and pet and cup and make it as pleasurable for him as possible. Adin ejaculates without a warning, and it seems to surprise even him. I wring him out, emptying all his backed up cum down the shower drain.

We don’t say much after. We finish washing, and drying up. Adin asks to dry me, and moisturize me, I love every second of it. I tell him not to worry about my erection. That shower was about him. He gives me an adorable smile, and goes to make us lunch.

That evening, Adin texted me. “…Can I come over? I can’t sleep.”
You bet I said yes. I got to wring him out again that night. And this time, he returned the favor.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“That’s it. Nice and still now. I lock you and restrain you for your own safety. The electricity can make your muscles jolt sometimes. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself in ropes. This way we can minimize risk. Why would I risk breaking my favorite toy?” I caress his thigh up and cup his buttock in my hand. “You have a very easy job. You just get to lie there while I do all the work,” I chuckle. “Now let’s get you up on your knees so we can get started. Ah, you are dripping already. Very pleased. Let’s turn that into a torrent shall we?”

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

An indentured man heads toward the exit of the barn after performing his morning chores. The horses are nose-deep in their oats and hay. The bay mare and her colt are doing fine. The stalls were mucked. Water changed. The pigs are waking up and wandering toward their outdoor pen. The man turns his head and greets a barn cat dozing on a stall partition. He pauses to give the cat a few pets and a scritch behind the ears, murmuring what a good girl she is. Moxy is their best mouser, and keeps the barn free of infestation. Moxy begins to lick her paws, so the man continues on his way.

Next job is to first wash his hands, then go collect eggs from the henhouse and rouse all the chickens. The eggs will be brought to the main house for breakfast. His stomach grumbles at the thought of breakfast. Breakfast is his favorite meal. There was never enough breakfast left in the foster home he grew up in, and most of his memories of school were waiting out hunger until subsidized lunches were available.

He pauses at the barn entrance and looks back. It still feels weird to him to live out here in the country, to be trusted with these animals, to not see miles and miles of concrete and brick and cars. To hear the grass move in the wind instead of horns and feet on sidewalks. In a funny way, he reckons that getting caught after committing that string of ATM thefts was the best thing that ever happened to him.
Back in the city, the gang he was in was obsessed with territory, power, and money. Well, out here, the man had his own territory. Power, not so much. Money, not so much. Small government stipend in the bank every month. But territory… this is his place. This is his barn. The loft is his bed.The man smiles. Not too shabby.

He glances down at his naked form. Also, getting fit and ripped as hell was a pretty damn good unintended consequence too. A rooster crows loudly, reminding the man not to dilly-dally. He was generally left alone to supervise himself, but one step out of line and the ranch master would appear out of nowhere to put him back in it with that awful whip curled at his side. The man crinkles his nose. Why ruin a fine morning that way? He walks over to the hen house and opens the wooden doors. Fluffy, brown and white chickens spill out to eat new bugs in the dirt, clucking and shaking their feathers.

“Hello ladies, good morning, good morning. Fine day isn’t it?

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Captions are fictional.