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“Oh shit! Oh John, it’s just you. Goddamn, you scared the hell out of us!”

“Sorry guys, I got off work late. You know I’d never miss this study group.”

“Well lock the door behind you, we’re just about to get started…”

“What are we studying today?”

“The sexual behaviors of horny college students.”

“My favorite!”

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Captions are fictional.

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Our third anniversary was coming up. We weren’t really sure what to do. We’d already done the romantic things on the other two – a movie, the ballet and dinner; and a nice camping trip under the stars for the other. We were saving for a big Southasian vacation for number four, and number five was going to be buying a house together. But three? We were stuck. Finally, I just asked my boyfriend, “What was something you’ve always wanted to do but never did?”
And he thought about it, and then he told me, “Well – nah, it doesn’t matter, because I have a boyfriend now.”
So of course, I had to pry. “Tell meeee!”
After some badgering, he finally coughed it up. “I always wanted to hire a stripper. Like, a really hot male escort to just strip for me. Thought it’d be kind of hot.”
I grinned. “That would be hot. Ever had a threesome?”
Turns out, he hadn’t.

So we drove to the next city where no one knew us. We rented a three star hotel room and ordered in some three star Chinese food, which remarkably didn’t make us sick. We ate ice cream that was priced $3 and some change, then watched a terrible movie on the hotel television. Finally, our boy arrived. We wanted to call the third gay escort service we could find, but it turns out there was only one in the city. They sent Rick, a rather hunky bear type with a  nice pelt of fur and big thighs. I looked at my boyfriend. He was grinning as hard as I was. The guy was hot, no doubt about it. And we could both have him, with no strings attached. Tonight we could have fun, be bad, and make a huge mess, and there’d be no repercussions. Pure magic.

Rick was surprised to see two of us. We explained it was our anniversary and Rick laughed. “When I got sent to this hotel, I thought I’d be like an old burnt out insurance salesman.”
“So this is better?” I asked.
“Oh, MUCH better,” Rick purred, eyes flashing. “You two are just my type. Gonna have fun playing with my own kind for once.”
My boyfriend licked his bottom lip. “Wait til you find out we’re switches.”
Rick’s eyebrows went up. “Oh my god, and it isn’t even my birthday.”

I held his hand as he climbed up on the bed. My boyfriend and I settled in against the pillows (we brought our own), and watched Rick get started. He had brought a bluetooth stero and even had his own playlist. I glanced at my boyfriend as Rick took of his shirt. My boyfriend gave me a thumbs up.
“Happy Anniversary,” I mouthed.

He reached over for my hand and squeezed mine tight.

The trip to Asia next year was four weeks of heaven, but we couldn’t stop talking about that night we rented a hotel room in Fresno and were up to dawn with Rick the bear cub.

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Captions are fictional.

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dominatingpowerbottoms:

Awww how cute. All those tops amusing themselves while patiently waiting to be called.

Jonathan needed some help dealing with the stress of finals week. Luckily, the other guys assigned to his team science project understood his suffering. They made sure his mental and physical health concerns were addressed properly, in succession, until Jonathan was so relaxed he nearly melted off the table. They received extra points on their assignment for such an excellent display of teamwork.

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Text is fictional.

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His balls were soft and squishy like pink marshmallows warm from being close to a fire. His ass felt like silk wrapped over two loaves of leavened bread dough – round and risen, puffy and thick. Every inch of Sacha was as virgin and innocent as fresh snow; even his nipples colored his chest like new rosebuds in spring. Kelley was enamored by his ethereal face and wisps of blond hair. He was best displayed on white shag and feather mattresses, ass up, his chubby cock tucked under him. It was too much to take in his seductive form at once. Kelley found it most erotic to simply caress the boy, gently ghosting his fingers over the most intimate curves and swells until Sacha was thoroughly hot and bothered and his balls were swollen as choux pastries fresh out of the oven. Then, Kelley would coax out the boy’s raspberry red erection from under him and watch it drip white pearls.

At times, sexing Sacha felt like a violation, like he’d crossed the red rope in front of a fine art piece, or like he had been forced to eat a dessert that had been gorgeously plated. Yet, Kelley always gave in to the temptation. He only had to put a hand anywhere near Sacha’s entrance and it would relax and open to receive Kelley. He’d never directly ask or beg for sex, but the soft mews of need from Sacha told Kelley all he needed to know. Once Kelley slid his cock into the velvet walls to the hilt and nestled it in the confines of the boy’s bottom, the lingering guilt slid away. Kelley would lose himself, become detached from time itself and float away as he rocked and thrust. Sacha needed the stimulus, he needed the release; masturbation was too rough a game for a tender boy as him. He could only empty those plump balls through internal stimulation, of which Kelley was now the sole provider.

It had been like this for almost a year.

Kelley found Sacha at a high-end adult club for gay men. While trying to find the bathroom in the VIP section, he heard a boy crying. He wandered into the “employee only” area and found Sacha crying in a ball on the floor after accidentally having caught his fingers in a closing door. Kelly soothed him and iced his fingers, then inquired as to why he was not on stage with the other boys. He was beautiful enough. Through his tears, Sacha explained that he was too nervous around the customers and became emotional when handled too aggressively; the house mistress had banished him to the dressing rooms to clean up after the more successful performers and to sew shut the holes in the boys’ costumes. Yet, she was still deducting money from his non-existent paychecks for room and board.
Kelley had been furious; he paid the debt and whisked Sacha off to his yacht in the Mediterranean as a gift to his beloved slave and houseboy, Jules. Jules had a lot of chores – especially when tending to the villa Kelley shared with his brother and socialite wife. He was often times, lonely, so Kelley had brought him a pet to keep him company during the day. The boys had become best of friends.

Jules was not a delicate flower. He was the son of Slavic farmers, meaty and substantial. He was a voyeur and terribly slutty. He could take a lot of cock and plenty of strikes from a whip, and he was quite proud of his own endurance. Jules liked leather. He liked humiliation; he liked it rough and sudden. Yet, Jules was delighted by his new pet; he enjoyed spoiling him greatly, sneaking him pastries from the kitchen or washing him by hand in the bath. Sacha’s milk tasted like the sea and they would pass the time together when their Master was away. His Master approved of their play, knowing a chastity cage kept Sacha safe from Jules’s rough lust.

As Master Kelley rode Sacha to his orgasm, he was more convinced than ever heaven existed right here on Earth. Forget collecting fine art or vases or whatever rich people did – he had all he could every want right here in his bed for any mood or whim: one angel and one devil.

Under him, Sacha moaned and his bones trembled as his nervous system overloaded from the sensitive tip rubbing against the sheets. He never dreamed intimacy could feel this wonderful. He loved being full of Master Kelley, to know the Master he worshiped and adored was was fully using his body and exploring all its potential. Master Kelley’s cock never hurt him, it only drove him to sweet madness and divine bliss. Sacha pushed back against the man dividing him and gasped as the blunt tip pushed into his gland. He whimpered, close to peaking. Master Kelley often left him horny and needing, choosing to spill his boy’s seed when he deemed it fit. By the time he reached the exact second of penetration, Sacha was often near delirious with heat.

Just as he felt as if he would burn up from the inside out, Master Kelley pushed him over the edge and the fever broke. Sacha wailed like gale winds and his spine and thighs cramped from holding a tight arch. He gasped and a cascade of his seed gushed out onto the bed. Master Kelley grunted, dripping with sweat; he pulled Sacha’s hips up and held him in place as he delivered a few intense thrusts and spilled. Besides them, Jules moaned and continued to masturbate with a large rubber toy.

Master Kelley dropped his weight onto Sacha and flexed his ass, nudging his cock up as far as he could go as the orgasm crested and began to fade. Sounds of three men panting filled the small bedroom on the yacht. Master Kelley remained buried in Sacha for as long as he could, making sure every tiny little drop of seed was out of his pet. When he withdrew, Sacha cried a little at the loss. Master Kelley instantly swept him into his arms and cuddled him, kissing his cherubic cheeks and rubbing circles onto his hip with his palm.

Once the hormones and emotions dispersed, Sacha was left exhausted and drained and wet. The ache of the loss not so great now, and in truth he was quite happy. Jules however, was angry and frustrated, so Master Kelley took a moment to clean his cock, relubed, and then pounded Jules into the mattress until he triggered an anal orgasm and gave his locked boy some relief. Sacha didn’t mind watching; he found it all fascinating how so much cum could come out of such a trapped little penis. Jules, of course, loved it when Sacha watched. He’d thank him by parting his legs and licking him clean under his Master’s approving gaze.

Afterwards, the three would have a rest, talking and giggling. When it got chilly, there would be a hot bath together, with sparkling water and finger foods. Master Kelley would normally pinch himself at least once to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Then he would draw the bath and the yacht named Paradise would sail off in the night toward the Almafi Coast.

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Text is fictional. One source says the name of this owner’s ass is Brandon from Sean Cody but he’s in too many videos to pin down a specific one. Goddamn, that ass though.

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“So go up to Broadway Street and turn left?”
“Right,” Morgan chirps. “Yeah I live in this residential neighborhood here a couple miles east.”
“Oh I know that area,” I say, “It’s kind of where the sorority houses are for the university.”
“Yeah! I’m living in an apartment for my senior year, but we’re gonna drive right past my party house. I’m part of Delta Phi Epsilon. Well, the Delta Delta chapter anyway. Delta deltaaa woo!” he emphasizes this with a dainty fist punch.
“Wow, you are enthusastic,” I note.
“They’re an awe~~some house.”
I chuckle. I drive for a ride-sharing app and have meant some eccentric people. I try not to pass judgements on first impressions, but it’s already obvious that Morgan is queer as can stereotypically be – the tone of his voice, his body movements, his skinny jeans and tight shirt and …I think he’s wearing a bit make up. He’s wearing sandals where his toes stick out, too. Then, something dawns on me. “Wait a second, Morgan, I know someone who went to Delta Delta. That’s a sorority isn’t it? Not a fraternity?”

“Hey! You know your sororities. Oh my gawd, that’s so hot. Yeah it is a sorority, those girls are my besties.”
I lift an eyebrow but hold off on responding until I can change lanes and get out from behind this bus. “I thought boys weren’t allowed in sororities?”
“Yeah but I was staying with them. Special permission for this twinkie, honey. It works out better than staying with frat boys and the girls love me. We share make up tips, go shopping together, bake cupcakes, form study groups, do charity events together – it’s sooo much fun.”
“How…I mean just…how? How did they let you do that?” I’m so confused.

“Well I met Brittany in ethics class. I needed crash space baaad since my roomie at the time was a fag hating roid douche, and she suggested I sleep on the sofa of their sorority house until I could rehome. I ended up teaching the girls how to make cheesecake. Never left.“
I signal to make the aforementioned left. “It’s not a problem that you’re a guy? Even though you’re…gay? Aren’t you?”
“Um, duh. If you can’t tell I am doing something wrong.”
“No no,” I say quickly, “I can definitely tell. I mean, I’m gay too and the radar is off the charts.”
He laughs and gives me a high five. “Hell yeah for gays boy!”
I high five him back.
Morgan continues. “And to answer your question honey – sororities are for girls, but being a girl isn’t about gender anymore. You can have a really cute penis, be biologically male, and still be a girl.”
“I …don’t get it.”
“Being a ‘girl’ is an identity. It means you like things pink, you like to be fancy, you’re into fashion, and fawning over cute boys. It means you can express your emotions. Guys don’t do that. I can be silly and flirty one day, vulnerable and passive the next, and fierce and bitchy one day later. It’s like … ummmm if you’ve twinked out too much and so God gave you an upgrade option?”

This time I almost crash the car. “What, seriously?”
“Yeah that’s exactly what it’s like! I mean, my sorority girls get it. They get me in ways you could never imagine. We’re not that different. We both got pussies, you know, and we both know how to use em. I mean – my chapter’s official logo is a unicorn for fuck’s sake. It’s the gayest sorority ever.”
“Uh. Wow.”
Morgan checks his cell phone and types a rapid response back to whatever message he received. “Omg Rachel got her nips pierced. Damn, I thought she was just bluffing when she was drunk. God, wine coolers are evil.”
“Wine coolers are disgusting,” I add.
“But cheap! I’m a brand whore, I only drink expensive vodka and it really adds up ugh. Girls gotta have her drinky drinks though.”
I struggle on what to say. “So it’s about…socializing?”
“In sorority houses yeah. Technically you’re not supposed to be drinking or have boys over, so that’s why I moved out for my senior year. The first years are about bonding and making friends, having someone to talk to about life, about careers, and sales at Macy’s. We do a lot of charity work with women of domestic violence, too.”
“That sounds…admirable.”
“Thanks hon. It was soo hard. As much as it made me grow up, it was depressing. Made me stronger. I kinda miss helping, but I don’t have to do charity work anymore since I’m about to graduate. Gonna go to New York City to intern at a studio that crafts ballet slippers.”
I glance over at Morgan. “Congratulations. That sounds…interesting.”
“My major is fashion and arts, with a focus on dancewear. I like the pink, what can I say?”
“Um, sorry to interrupt, but am I turning any time soon?”
“Yeah actually, turn at the light. Oh shit it’s this light. God, I got distracted. Tuuurn and there we go. Down to the stop sign, make a right.”
I nod, and Morgan gets another text message. “Oh it’s Jennifer. Wanna know something funny? Jennifer and I share a boyfriend. He likes doing through the backdoor, she hates anal; he loves tits and I am flat as a board. We are all too busy for dating, so we share him. Works out beautifully. I get to ride dick, and I pass my classes.”

For once, Morgan has rendered me speechless.
“Oh there’s my apartment building! Fuck yeah duplexessss. Thank you, you’ve been a great driver.” He pulls a contact info card out of nowhere and offers it to me. “I like the gay boys, so if you ever want to tap this, call me ok?”
I take the card. “Um – uh – wow, um, ook then. Thanks, um, Morgan. Been nice talking to you. You’re really, interesting. I like your confidence.”
Morgans beams. “Thank you, dear. I’ll give you a big tip through the app.” He winks and gets out of my car. I watch his cute butt wrapped in denim as he sashays up to the apartment door and lets himself in. For a moment, I just sit there at the curb, wondering what just happen.

Then I glance over, and notice the glitter he left in my passenger seat – gay debris left by Hurricane Morgan. Despite the fact I fucked my boyfriend last night, compared to Morgan, I feel nearly straight.

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Text is fictional. Source is too hard to track down. I know nothing about sororities so sorry if I screwed something up. Also that sorority’s official mascot really is a unicorn.

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lasub81:

I’m a lucky boy! I have two doms controlling and enforcing my chastity. Master Rob likes to make sure I’m horny and straining in my device by making me read erotic stories and giving him a report along with a pic of my straining fag dick.

Very lucky boy! The fun of a boy in chastity isn’t just stopping a hard on, it’s teasing him to the point of breaking out of the device so he learns to embrace being horny and craving his doms.

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My nerves were on edge. Walking around an empty subway station at 3 am in a jockstrap and flip flops will do that to you. I turned a bend on the tracks and saw three men standing there, and knew they were the ones just by the way they were dressed, their posture. For weeks, a friend of mine had been acting as a mediator between these men and I. I didn’t want to meet them or see their faces before they took me and used me for the weekend. Of course, kidnapping fantasies are never so clear cut…there’s a lot of talk about limits, contracts, legal mumbo jumbo. So I had a lawyer friend handle it to keep me removed from the process as much as possible.

Finally, I got my orders to show up late late Friday night. Exposed. Alone. You wouldn’t believe the boner I had. They stopped chatting amongst themselves upon spotting me. Grins spread on their faces

“Well well well…he came. Well, he won’t be coming this whole weekend, but at least he was punctual once.”
Another snickered. “Now what a nice piece of meat this is. Still, it’s funny to see a faggot wearing clothing. Can’t wait to get you home boy and into your more…natural setting.”
The third spoke up. “Oh Hammond was right, this was going to be a most interesting weekend.”

I couldn’t run even if I wanted to. The urge to drop to my knees and suck all their cocks over-powered me. I was very lucky because they let me. With a belly full of cum, they stripped me of my underwear before they tied me up like a hog and threw me in the back of their van. It was the start of most intense, degrading 48 hours of my life and I enjoyed every second of it.

Wonder what my husband and kids would think, knowing the things their corporate father used to do to satisfy his lust…

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Text is fictional.

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It’s 2 am and the party is winding down. I need to leave soon – 10 am classes and all –  but I can’t find my roomie anywhere. I’m a tad worried. I brought him here because I knew a lot of gay guys were gonna be here, and I wanted him to feel comfortable in his new-found sexuality. I’d never forgive myself if someone raped him, or worse, kidnapped him and then raped him. Gorram it, where is he?

I jog up the stairs to the second floor of this McMansion, cursing it’s unnecessary amount of rooms. Bathroom? Nope. Closet? Nope, just one pissed off cat. The first bedroom is emitting light from under the door. I open it and find a pile of girls asleep on the bed. Weird, but nope. I walk to the end of the hall and pause in front of the second bedroom door. Green light? Wait, that’s smell? Weed, oh that makes…sense.

I push the door open, bracing myself for the wave of skunky smoke and bewildered stares of stoned frat boys…. but what I see inside blows my mind. There was my roommate alright, and two other boys – one being my younger step-brother and the other I did not know – in the middle of an intense threeway orgy of frotting and fucking. My jaw drops. I can see someone’s dick but I can’t tell whose it is. Wow, they are really going at it. They didn’t even pause when I opened the door. Heat spreads across my cheeks and my cock twitches in my pants. Goodness gracious.

I pull out my wallet and remove the condoms I put in there earlier and set them on the nightstand. As I back out slowly. It feels like I’ve trespassed into the lair of some nocturnal animal and am trying to appease it with an offering while simultaneously not catching its attention. With great delicacy, I tip toe out of the room and coax the door shut, returning the doorknob to its resting position without a sound. For a moment, I just stand there absorbing it all.

“Congrats, buddy, what a way to lose your virginity,” I say under my breath, a little smirk on my face. I whistle as I trot down the stairs and head home alone.