Gallery
by ccallenreese

sodomymcscurvylegs:

unfriendlygayguy:

Me and the boys summoning a top

This is correct cause tops are demons

“Ok, so it says once our knees are over the circles on the floor, we have to join hands and say the chant with you repeating after me.” Joey starts.
“Will this really work?” John asks.
“It better,” Chris interjects. “I’m so fucking horny.”
“Can we summon a top with four dicks?” John. “He can fuck us all at once.”
Joey looks at the book. “That seems too advanced.”

Michael snorts. “His dicks would have to be so long to fuck us all at once.”
”Ew….” John says.
“Look, one dick is fine as long as he can USE it,” Chris says.
“Is the demon going to be white?” Michael asks.

“What?” Chris asks.
“I mean, we’re all white. Is the demon gonna be white? It’d be hot if he were black…”
”Uh, is that an option?” another says.
Chris. “I don’t care what color that dick is. Dick is dick.”
Joey flips through the book. “Look, we’re still new at this. Let’s make sure we can SUMMON a top first before try like, customizing it.”
John sighs. “Joey is right.”

Joey clears his throat. “Alright, let’s join hands.” Joey sets the book on his knee. After they join hands, Joey reads the Latin and his friends repeat after him. When the chant ends, the flames go out.
Several boys gasp. Everyone is frozen still, looking at each other, waiting to see what happens.

“Now…what?” Chris whispers.
John clears his throat. “I was sort of expecting him to like, come out of the floor…”
“That’s silly,” Michael says.
“So what were you expecting?”
“Well I –”

John is cut off by the sound of a knock at the door.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Giovanni strode into the kitchen in an outfit that cost over four figures from shoes to haircut. It was a lovely spring day. His houseboy had some jazz music on low volume playing in the background. A mimosa was already waiting on the table, next to a newspaper.
“Good morning, boy.” Giovanni sat down, tucked in a linen napkin, and briefed the paper with his glass in his other hand.
“Good morning, Sir. Sleep well?”
“I did, thanks to you boy. Your mouth around my cock is better than any sleeping pill.”
There was the sound of a fork being dropped. “T- thank you Sir. I enjoy servicing you.”
Giovanni suppressed a smile. “I enjoy it more than you.”
“That’s impossible, Sir.” The houseboy strode over and set down a small ramekin of cut fruit and half a spinach omelette. Giovanni liked to watch this. The houseboy’s dark skin made such a nice contrast to the white plates. Plus, his fingers were so long that every motion he made was so graceful and delicate. He seemed to float and flit with an ethereal grace that Giovanni loved. Giovanni sipped his drink and tried to keep his thoughts pure. He hated going to work with damp underwear.
The last plate arrived on the table. Giovanni set the paper down. “Boy.”
“Yes sir?” he giggled.
“What. What did you do the pancakes?”
“I got a star cookie cutter. Isn’t it fun? They’re banana caramel, your favorite.”
“That is my favorite. I just think the last time I had food in shapes, I was five. I’m a goddamn CFO now.”
The boy put his hands on his hips. “Are you telling me the CFO of Buenaco is too good for star pancakes his houseboy made by hand for him? Are you like some circle pancake food elitist?”
Giovanni gave his houseboy a ‘look’ but he did not have an answer for that. He honestly thought sometimes he should bring his houseboy to work and have him argue business deals, cause he’d win them all. Giovanni considered his breakfast. “They are pretty cute…” Giovanni admitted.
“You are a very serious man, Giovanni. Nothing wrong with having a little fun. When was the last time you had that? When you were five?”
Giovanni spread the butter around on the pancakes. “…Probably. My dad had me running bets for him by the time I was 6.”
“There you go. Eat you food before it gets cold.”
Giovanni really should have spanked that boy for his bossiness, but he kind of liked him a little sassy. Giovanni ate his food in silence. Shaped or not, they were goddamn delicious.

In the break room at work later, he was talking to another accountant and asked her. “Hey Sandra.”
She was eating a yogurt. “What’s up?”
“What would you do if your houseboy made you star shaped pancakes for breakfast?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh my god, that’d be so cute! I’d kind of die. I love quaint shit like that. ”
“Cause my houseboy did that this morning.”
“Awww really? I’m so jealous! Did you take a photo?”
“Uh, yeah I did.” Giovanni showed it to her. She snatched the phone out of his hand. “Awwww! Margaret look at this!”
“Hey! That’s my phone, where are you going with that??”
It took five minutes to get his phone back from being passed around the legal department. “It’s just pancakes!” Giovanni insisted.
“No, you don’t get it,” Margaret scolded him. “Your houseboy loooves you.”
“Loves me? But he works for me…”
That made Sandra and Margaret both giggle. “Does your brain process anything else but numbers?”
Giovanni put his phone in his pocket. “Clearly not.” He stomped back to his desk, still confused. Star pancakes means my houseboy loves me…?  He loves me…?
It filled his thoughts all day. I’m loveable?

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Captions are fictional. Oh come on, they are cute aren’t they?

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“So I dunno, I guess I could we should go, but it’ll eat up the time I have left here, and plus the drive itself is so long it’s almost not worth it for the time we’re actually there, and -oops-” Danny bends over to pick up my mail he’s dropped. “Especially with the cost of gas and everything, I–”

“Oh my god.”

Danny straightens up. “Oh my god what?”

“I just….I just… I uh. I just realized that I love you.”

Danny turns a little pink. “What?”

“When you bent over to get the mail, the sun was making the back of your ass and thighs glow and I thought you were so goddamn beautiful and confident and I realized how content I am spending time with you…and yeah, fuck.” I run my fingers through my hair. “I’m in love with you.”

Danny is now thorough red in the face and ears. “Why did you have to tell me this before my six week training session in Virginia?”

“I – I don’t know. It just popped in my head! But like, I dunno – like, maybe it’s because I want to make sure you come back.”

Danny sets the mail down and walks over to me. He cups my face in his hands. “I will be back.”

“Really?” I smile.

“Really. I was uh…hoping you’d ask me to come back, honestly,” Danny admits.

“Really?” I ask.

“Really,” Danny says. “But I’m not going to tell you I love you now.”

“Wait, why?” I ask.

“Cause I want to say it when I come back. Cause then I’ll definitely know.”

“You’re…not sure now?”

Danny caresses my cheek. “Honey, I think I’m still high from all the sex you’ve been doing to me. Need to let that fuck fog clear a little and think straight.”

That makes me laugh. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or annoyed that my cock has cock blocked me.”

“Flattered,” Danny says. “Been some good times in this apartment. But I want to like, know, know. I want to know how it feels to be apart.”

I snake my hands around and cup his ass in both hands. “I’ll wait impatiently for six weeks to see you again and await your answer.”

Danny exhales. “I’m going to have to impatiently wait for you to handle my ass like this again. Christ, I’m gonna be so horny when I get back….”

“Maybe you should decide if you love me before your fuck fog turns into a frustration fog.”

Danny raises an eyebrow. “or maybe I just make a mould of your cock and use it as a dildo instead.”

“Honey if you wanted to do that, I’d pay for it! Shit’s hot!”

That makes Danny howl.

I smile. I don’t need him to tell me he loves me. I know he does. Just by the look in his eyes and the way he’s twisting my shirt in his fingers.

Six weeks later, I got the answer I hoped for, and began running the clock on when to propose.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

You’re not super reiligious, but you agree that Sunday should be a day of rest. You make sure your boys have some time where chores aren’t a priority. You let them sleep in. You all make brunch together. You unlock them for cleaning and showers, and it leads to sex. You push their beds together and enjoy them both. No rules, as long as you cum before them. Afterwards, you let them relax au naturale unlocked, and discuss the book you all have been reading. Yes, reading. You encourage them to read and well, it’s like a private book club for just your house.  

One of your boys never had books growing up, his dad mocked him for it. The other one was more of a video game fan, but now they’re both readers. So you chat until you’re hungry, then it’s time to wash the sheets, have another shower, and have a snack.

Maybe a nap follows. Maybe more sex. But you always go for a walk in the evening, all holding hands.

You love your boys, and setting a day aside for them helps strengthen your bond as an odd sort of family. Since you started doing this, there’s been no more lashing out or tantrums and a big reductions in spankings. They communicate better and express themselves better. Plus, less complaining when you lock them up again.

Happy boys (and horny boys) are good boys.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

bumwhole:

Little bit of bum

You’re brushing your teeth when a moon appears in the part of the mirror where the fog has been wiped away. You turn and gaze at two round loafs of bread pressed against the glass. You raise an eyebrow as your boyfriend bounces his cheeks against the glass. You find it rather mesmerizing. Your boyfriend looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re watching.

You take a step forward and smack the glass where he’s standing. It made a loud noise as your palm connects with the hard surface. To your delight, he jumps anyway, although no contact was made. You chuckle. You spit out your toothpaste foam before you choke on it. You rinse and dry, and when you look over he’s still doing it, only it’s the front this time. His balls look super odd pressed against a flat surface.
You make eye contact with the young man through the opaque glass and run your finger in a straight line over where his shaft is, up and down.
He begins writing in the condensation with his own finger, but in order to do this he has to be writing backwards.
“W A N T Y O U.” He writes. The N is going the wrong way.
You press your palm to the cool surface. He presses his.

You smile in resignation. You slip out of your pajamas, open the door, and join him. Not much room in there, but you’re standing close enough together that it doesn’t really matter. 

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Captions are fictional.