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by ccallenreese

Donovan crawled into bed. “Honey are you up?”
“Mmnn sort of. Comfy. Come snuggle me,” Brandon requested.
Donovan spooned up behind him and put an arm around his lover’s waist. “Did your art projects wear you out?”
“Mmnn somewhere between the scrapbooking and decoupaging that lampshade I just got hit with the case of the sleepies.”
Donovan chuckled. “Well, we didn’t do much sleeping last night.”
Brandon chuffed through his nose. “No, we did not. God bless your stamina.”
“You know we won’t sleeping much soon.”
“…What babe?”
Donovan pulled his lover close to him tight. “When we’re parents I mean.”
“Oh,” Brandon said with a disappointed sigh. “Like that’s going to happen, considering the last two embryos didn’t take.”
Donovan was glad he was behind Brandon so he couldn’t see him smiling. “But the last one did.”
Brandon was quiet for a moment. “What?”
“Samantha’s pregnant. Three weeks along. Doctor confirmed today.”

“Oh my god are you serious?” Brandon asked, turning awkwardly around.
“Dead serious.”
“Serious serious??”
“She sent me a photo of three positive tests,” Donovan insisted.
“Oh – oh my god. Oh my god, baby,” Brandon gasped, too astonished to even cry. “We’re going to be dads.”
Donovan cupped his lover’s cheek and guided their lips together. Brandon wrapped his fingers around Donovan’s arm, which was grabbing his own, and squeezed really hard as he tried to keep his emotions in check. 
“Donny-,” Brandon managed before his voice cracked. Donovan soothed him with kisses.
“I know,” Donovan murmured, punctuating it with a sniffle. “Everything is wonderful now.”

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Captions are fictional. Apparently this is Dion Yorkie and Sebb Argo, a YouTube couple.

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by ccallenreese

gayboykink:

alphapupzade:

Cute pup!

Sooo pouncable! *wrufff*

I was reading an article on Cyprus when my boyfriend said, “I don’t think your pup likes me.”
I glance over at Mohammed – or Mo to me – who was trying to figure out one of those “impossible” finger puzzles while half-watching a 90s disaster film on TV. Mo looks back at me..
“What?” I reply. 
“I think he wants to bite me.”
I look at Doby, sprawled over the foot of my king’s sized bed. I had been dating Mo for three months now, and had decided to slowly introduce him to my pup. They were still learning to get along with each-other. “No,” I say, “He’s going to pounce you.”
Mo snorts. “No, habibi, that is clearly a look that he hates me and wants to bite me. Dogs that pounce have their butts in the air.”
I give Mo a sideways smile and turned back to my magazine. “You’re wrong. He’s deciding if he likes you, and when he does, he’s gonna pounce you.”
“I seriously think he’s already decided he doesn’t like me,” Mo insisted.
I place my thumb in the magazine and fold it closed. “And why would you think that? He was wagging when you met.”
“Cause some dogs are possessive of their Masters. In your home, in your bed, and he share your love and ownership with me now.”
“Hm,” I reply, “Well I see your point there, but Doby has never been possessive. We talked about this. As long as he doesn’t feel pushed out, we won’t see any bad behavior.”
Mo considers Doby, then went back to fiddling with the puzzle. “So you say. I still think he wants to bite me. Why is he staring at me like that?”
I look at Doby. “Hm? …Oh, you know, maybe…”
“What?” Mo asks.
I wiggle my hand behind his pillow.
“Hey what are you doing back there?”
I pull out a ball. “Here. He probably wants this.” 
Mo takes it suspiciously. “This…?” 

There’s a blur of flesh and leather as the pup pounces on Mo. 
“ARF ARF!”
Mo yelps in surprise. I laugh. “Told you he likes you. You were just getting between him and the ball.”
“Oof! Oh god, pffft he’s licking me and standing on my diaphram what do I do!”
“Throw it, duh!” I respond, laughing.
Mo hurls it. The ball bounces on the floor and out into the hallway. Doby goes after it like lightning, skittering and barking as he chased it.
I can’t stop laughing at how rumpled and frazzled Mo looks. 
“What. Just. Happened.”
I open my magazine again. “He pounced, just like I said. By the way, you better prepare, cause here he comes. And he’s gonna want you to throw it again.”

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Text is fictional.

Hello, Sir! I was wondering if you can recommend other blogs to follow like yours? Pretty please 🙏 I need more on my dash.

Hello, Sir! I was wondering if you can recommend other blogs to follow like yours? Pretty please 🙏 I need more on my dash.

by ccallenreese

:

Haha I can list some of the blogs I follow, not a problem.

@kinkythingsilike @kinkythingsiwrite @thedominantdaddyblog @submissiveboyfantasies @nesubmissive @submissive-mind @goodmorningohio @milk-me-hard @subinblue @boyowned @thegayboybible @daddysboyslut @ejaculate-glitter @flashdoggy @kb4y @dirtydaddythings @sweetheartbeatoffroadmusic @perceptivedominance @serviceorientedsub @betabreeder @bredbeta @torontopup @temptingdominance @thekinkygrad @daddiesandtheirboys @theomegaboy @biggtoppdadd @story-boi @allbecauseoftheboys @gayboykink @the-kinky-bf @bookofbaitnate @damienxazure

There ya go, anon. These are all the kink blogs I follow. They’re all pretty popular so you probably already know most of them, but if for some reason you haven’t heard of some of these, I suggest checking them out.

Someone is talking about me :3 Thanks @sadisticazazel! All good choices on that list tbh.

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by ccallenreese

sadisticazazel:

“You’re safe now, boy. I’ve got you.”

“You’re safe now, boy. I’ve got you.”
Seamus hiccuped and let his forehead rest on his big, strong boyfriend’s shoulder. “Why is my mother so mean to me, Jo?” he whispered.
“Because she can’t ruin you too.”
“…What? What do you mean?”
“Your mother has always been a petty, jealous, narcissitic woman, Seamus. I know she went through some tough stuff, but instead of using that as a challenge to overcome she just let it eat her up inside. She blames everyone else for her imperfect life, although she never tried to fix it or better herself. Does that sound right?”
Seamus niffled and nodded. “Yeah, it does,” he said sadly. “Everything I did growing up had to be about her in some way. ‘You want to do tennis? Do you want everyone in town to think I’m some preppy tennis mom when I’m obviously not? We’re eating Spaghetti-os here! I work so hard around here and you just want to take advantage of money I don’t have. There are things I want too, Seamus…’ blablabla…in that screechy voice too.”
Jo sighed softly. “I know it was hard for you, baby. But she’s so mad she couldn’t ruin you too. That she couldn’t drag you down, beat out your spirit, defeat you. She wants you to be more miserable than she is, so she can feel better than someone. And you won’t let her. All you do is succeed and win at life.”
“You mean it?” Seamus asked, looking up at his lover.
“I do. You got straight As, got a scholarship to college, graduated with top honors, got a job offer right out of school at that awesome fashion company you loved… baby, you’re killing it.”
“Plus I have a hot boyfriend,” Seamus joked.
“That you do,” Jo replied, kissing Seamus on the forehead again.

Seamus hiccuped. “Still, despite everything, I want my mother to love me. It just hurts to think she will never love me like I want her to.”
“Oh honey, don’t cry,” Jo said in a soothing voice, pushing those tears away with the pad of his thumb. “It’s ok. You don’t need it. Hell, she doesn’t deserve your love. She had the chance and she squandered it. I don’t think you should give her another chance. I wouldn’t.”
Seamus sniffled and tightened his arms around Jo. “You know, I just realized, how you must feel.”
“Me?” Jo responded, surprised.
“Yes. You were so considerate when you were dating me, always being so proactive about winning me over. Always doing little things for me. I made you earn my love and made you wait before I gave it, but I turn around and just throw it at my mother who doesn’t even cherish it. God I’m so stupid.”
“No no, honey, no,” Jo said firmly. “Familial love is different. It’s deeper. I’m grateful you have let me into your life, but we were strangers once. It’s different.”
Seamus didn’t appear to have heard him. “I should be focusing on who wants my love and who cherishes it. You. You deserve it. I want to give it to you instead. Not her. But still, why do I still feel guilty at the idea of cutting my mother off?”
Jo was ready with an answer. “Because you still think that if you do one thing – say something, do something, become something, she will love you. Or maybe, that something will happen to her, and she’ll change.”

Seamus exhaled softly, his shoulder’s sagging. “Yeah…I think that’s it.”
“Honey, nothing you do will be good enough for her. You could become straight, cure cancer, become the President, marry an actress, win the lottery, and buy your mom a house and a car, and she will still make you feel bad, tear you down, doubt yourself, and try to make it all about her.”
Seamus lifted his tear-stained face. “Oh my god, you’re right. You’re so right. I mean, I will never not be the ‘stupid faggot’ she hates that I am, so there’s no hope for the rest. I sure as hell won’t be curing cancer, and I haven’t even dreamed of giving up my awesome job to try and please her.”
Jo beamed. “That’s my smart boy. And you’re following her on Facebook right? If something bad happens, you’ll hear about it from someone and we can talk about it then.”
Seamus nodded. Jo pinched Seamus’s chin with his finger. “Your life is here. With me, and my love. Can I have your phone?”
Seamus furrowed his brow, pulled it out of his pocket, and held it over. Jo fussed with it and handed it back. 
“What did you do?”
“Look in your contacts.”
Seamus did. Under where it used to say ‘Mom” it now said, “Janet. Do not answer.”
“Janet…” Seamus said. 
“Just another name on the list now. Besides, if you want a mother figure, you can borrow one of mine. I have two, remember, and god they will mother you to pieces if you let them.”
“…Really? They would?”
“Oh yeah. By the way, why don’t we ask them if we can go visit them out in New Mexico for a weekend?”
Seamus perked up. “I’d like that. I think I’m just sort of missing having a family right now.”
“I understand, sweet boy. You can start with me, and mine, and one day we’ll make our family.”
“Like…with kids?” Seamus asked shyly.
“One day,” Jo responded. “But we have to get married first.”
Seamus blushed and tucked his head against Jo’s pectoral again. “I’d like that.”
Jo tried not to grin as widely as he was. “So would I. But I would to propose to you proper first. I’ll get my grandmother’s ring from Mama Sue when we go visit ok?”
“Oh Jo, you are so wonderful to me,” Seamus said.
“This is what love is supposed to be like, Seamus.”

Seamus started to answer when his phone rang. A dark look crossed his face when he looked at the screen. “It’s M… ..It’s Janet.” Jo didn’t say anything as Seamus studied the phone. It rang and rang. He thumbed it to mute, and stuck it in his pocket. “I don’t want to talk to Janet right now. I want to talk about this trip.”

Jo cheered. “Yah! That’s my boy.” He kissed Seamus hard and made him giggle. “You wanna go get pizza and ice cream for dinner?”
“Oh hell yes. …Can we have hot sex on the sofa when we get back?”
Jo gave his lover a smoldering smirk. “Seamus baby, the answer to that question will never be no.”

_________________
Text is fictional.

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by ccallenreese

“Oh, uh, CJ. Hey,” Alex stammered.
“You didn’t call me after our date,” CJ said, always frank and to the point.
Alex blushed and shuffled his shoes. “I’m sorry.”
“I waited. I thought you would call. I thought it went well. What happened? Did I do something wrong?”
Alex fussed with his zipper. “No no…but that’s just – I don’t know. That’s just it. Nothing went wrong. It was too perfect.”
“What?” CJ chuckled. “What do you mean, it was too perfect?”
“It was just a great date. You were flawless, funny, handsome. The food was nice, the prices good, the ambiance pleasant. No gaps in conversation…”
“Buuuut?”
Alex shifted. “I just never had a date go so well before. I just, I am used to dating guys that are almost perfect, then I spend the next 48 hours obsessing over if their flaw or flaws will make or break our relationship. If I think I can deal with it, I go out with them again, and if not, no. But with you I just…I have no precedent.”
CJ looked confused. “So why not call me?”
“Cause I was scared I would convince myself I had a good thing going, and then you’d break my heart over something, and I’d be burned forever.” Alex coughed. “Sorry I’m a bit dramatic.”
CJ looked at Alex, who avoided his gaze. He thought about what the boy had said. “Or maybe, whatever is inevitably wrong with me can be fixed, or worked though, and dating me will be a happily ever after?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Alex said with a little smile.
“So now how about this,” CJ began, “You go on another date with me, and you tell me what my flaw is. And if you can’t find it, we will just go on our more dates until you do, and then you can tell me what it is and we can go from there. No surprises. You’re in control.”
Alex studied CJ’s face, still fussing with his clothes, shy and nervous. “…Really?”
“Yes. I like you. I was so down when you didn’t call. I’d like to spend more time with you,” CJ confessed.
“Aww,” Alex clucked, “I’m so sorry. I was so selfish.”
CJ thumbed his jaw. “It’s ok. I was once burned before too. Your heart is a precious thing to trust someone with. I get it.”
Alex nodded and bit his lip. “You know…that night, I was really regretting I didn’t let you kiss me at my door.”
CJ straightened. “Really?”
Alex nodded rapidly. “Stupid huh?”
“Oh no. Not at all,” CJ murmured, leaning in. “The feeling was mutual…” The words evaporated as a heavy, pregnant pause hung between them in the cramped library aisle. When Alex didn’t turn away or break their locked gaze, CJ moved closer. Their lips touched, Alex’s trembling gently as CJ pushed against his for a warm, soft kiss that made both of their knees weak.

So lost in each-other they were, that neither noticed that they were standing in the 300 section of the Dewey decimal shelving system; behind them were shelves of books on gay love and romance. Their story was just starting to be written.

_____________________
Text is fictional.

by ccallenreese

Sorry for the lack of post today. I just worked a 13 hour day, and did not get much of a break. Will double up tomorrow.

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by ccallenreese

The thing that surprised me most about being in a relationship with Zane was just how he could make an honest man out of me. I don’t mean marriage, I mean the way he could just shut off the white noise in my brain which resulted in me saying whatever was on my mind. You don’t realize just how many things influence what comes out of your mouth.
Our culture has specific rules on what is vulgar and what is not, what you should want and what you shouldn’t, and the virtues of being ‘pure’ versus being ‘dirty’, and what being ‘dirty’ says to your character. We sometimes doubt ourselves so much that we can’t even figure out what we really want. Our desires get lost in the fog of ‘what would people think if [blank]?”, even though chances of them finding out what you do with your self or your lover in private is slim to none. 

Zane kissing me might as well be the off button to all that bother. When he asks me questions – filthy, inappropriate, kinky questions – I just answer him without a second of reconsideration. All the answers are there. Zane just has to ask the right ones, and I will spit out the right response. So when he asked me just now – You want to suck my cock? – I said yes, because I really, truly wanted to suck him. I was not ashamed or embarrassed of how much I liked to pleasure him with my tongue and listen to him moan, or to taste his saltiness in the back of my throat, or to feel that fat vein on his shaft throb from my actions. Matter of fact, I was giddy. Excited. Eager. Horny.

I was in the grocery store the other day, and thinking to myself about that question, and I was blushing. I was sure everyone could read my mind. Would I suck your cock? No, of course not! That’s totally wrong, and kind of gross. It was as if I seemingly had two different minds. When I was in one mode, the other seemed ridiculous and unfathomable. It was bizarre, but also…magical. Cause that special place I go with Zane? No other boyfriend has ever taken me there. It is my favorite place.

Yes, Zane, I want to suck it real bad. I really want to. Please let me.

___________________________________________________________
Text is fictional. This is from Cocky Boys – Trenton Ducati and Jack Hunter. Thanks @themercuryjones for listing that info.

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by ccallenreese

“Thank you for returning him. When the report is filed, you shall receive your reward,” Master Torres says with a nod of his head.
“No, thank YOU Sir. The money is insignificant. I’m glad you got your boy back. Did he really run away? Didn’t seem to put much effort into it.”
“It’s more accurate to say he got out. He’s been mad at me a little cause I with-held his milking date cause he misbehaved and I found out. Also some jealousy issues. General frustration. And he’s not so good at communication. It happens sometimes with slaves. So they get out and go wandering around, only to realize an hour later that they are totally lost without their alpha there to guide them. There’s nowhere to go. Home is in my basement. Inevitably, as in this case, they wander toward the nearest area with lots of men and hopes someone knows what to do.”
“Ooohhh. Yeah it was pretty obvious what was going on once we realized no one was keeping an eye on him. It says ‘slave’ on his back too.”
“He often forgets its there,” Master Torres says with a soft chuckle.
“Well, in this case it helped.”
“Indeed. Thank you for calling the hotline, again. I’m now going to go take him home, feed the hungry welp, and punish the hell out of him for scaring me like that.”
“…Will he get milked?”
Master Torres tilts his head. “Maybe. Depends how he takes his whipping. Alright, boy let’s go.”
“Bye now, take care!”

I watch Master Torres escort his boy out, talking softly to him. I barely catch a glimpse of Master Torres kissing him softly on the cheek. I don’t think I was supposed to see that. I could tell he was really happy to get his boy back. I’ve heard horror stories of boys getting kidnapped. I’m glad I could be part of a happy ending. I set my duffel bag down and start to get ready for my work out. God, I wish I could afford to care for a slave one day! With this reward money, I’m even closer to the pricepoint. I feel invigorated. Life goals, life goals, man. 

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Text is fictional.