Tag: adorable

Gallery
by ccallenreese

This is the sequel to this.

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Ethan and I sat in a pile of wrapping paper and small boxes, sipping hot cocoa with vanilla vodka in it. He was dangling a ribbon for Mrs. Fluffington to swat at. We had spent the morning playing in the snow and going sledding on a golf course hill by the house, then came home to a nice lunch and gifts. Sweaters. Books. Sex toys. Sarcastic post-it notes. A shaving kit for Ethan. Hockey stuff for me. The climax of Christmas was over…or so Ethan thought.

“Ethan?” I began.
“Hm?”
“This Christmas has been magical. I mean, I’m sitting here, by the fire, with medicated hot chocolate, with no place to go and no one making demands on me at work. It’s snowing beautifully outside, and we’re all warm and toasty in here. It’s cliche, but it’s magical, and every Christmas I spent with you, I find this intense happiness that I never knew possible. More than anything, I feel just so incredibly happy with you, and am just far too pleased with the idea that I get to spend a whole ‘nother year with you.”

Ethan smiled at me. “Honey that is so sweet of you to say.” He leaned over and we shared a chaste kiss. I could see the suspicion in Ethan’s eyes. He was no doubt wondering if this was in fact The Time, or if he was reading into things too much. “Jesus christ, I can’t even begin to express how I feel about you..” He worked his jaw, trying to make words come out, but I put a finger over his soft lips so he’d hush.

“Now, I know being with me over the years has been a strange journey for you. We started off as friends. You were dating a girl. Then, you came out to me as bisexual, and then you confessed you had a crush on me-”
Ethan groaned and blushed, much to my delight.
“Which was one of these most wonderful things that has ever happened to me, as I was going insane with my unrequited feelings for you.”
“…You were?”
“Absolutely,” I admit. “I didn’t want to be ‘that creepy gay guy’ but, even then, I knew you were special. I loved your scruffy look. I thought you were so handsome. I was selfish, just looking at the surface. You taught me what it really means to be *in* a relationship, and I never wanted to work so hard for love in my life. You are so ambitious, so forward thinking, that I was – am – constantly amazed by all your kinetic energy. Being with you has made me like… jolt free, and move with intent, to improve and better myself, and grow up.  I wanted -” at this point, my voice cracked -“ I wanted so very much to be worthy of your love, and your approval, to be someone you didn’t consider below you. I want to live in a house with you, and share your bed, and listen to you mutter in your sleep and put jelly on your toast. I love you, and I hope, I really, really hope, that you love me too. So, Ethan Richard Norwich, will you marry me, and let me have you forever?”

I presented a small box from the pocket of my bathrobe and opened it with two trembling, hands.

At this point, I must have entirely mesmerized Ethan because his pupils were dilated and his lids were wide open. It should have been entirely obvious that I was proposing minutes ago, but when he saw the ring Ethan made this high pitched noise, the end of which was smothered by his hands covering his mouth. Mrs. Fluffington fled for the nearest box. Ethan’s palms over his chin were the only things keeping his jaw from falling off his face.
“Holy shit is this really happening…?” he asked, hesitating.
“Yes, it is,” I replied, swallowing hard.
Yes!” he squeaked, a loud voice coming out of a tight throat. “Yes oh my god yes! Yes yes!” He threw his arms around me and squeezed me so hard, I couldn’t breathe. He then peppered me with his kisses.
“Oh my god! Did I just get engaged?” he said, his eyes overflowing with tears.
I was laughing with bliss and happiness, high off adrenaline as the nervousness faded away.
“Yes, it’s happening. I’d been planning this for months.” I showed him the ring.
“Shit, it’s beautiful. And yet, masculine. Shit.” He was openly crying now.
I took it out of the box and slid it into his ring finger. Ethan exhaled audibly. ‘Oh god it fits perfectly. Look at it, it’s just…shit, Joel.” He wiped tears away with this shirt. We embraced and rocked and cried together. The snow continued to fall outside. I piped up. “You know when you came back in from cleaning the gutters and found your dad’s ring gone? I lied. I had taken it to measure for this.”
“What…? Ah you crafty bastard! How did I – how did I not see it? You’ve been planning this for months! You told me we had to put it off!”
I grinned. “That is true. I wanted you to be surprised.” I examined his trembling hand, sniffling too. “God it looks perfect.”
“I’m engaged,” Ethan announced, his eyes red, his voice light with disbelief. “I’m going to get married. Holy shit. This is the best Christmas ever.” He gazed up at me. “I love you so much, Joel. Don’t ever think you’re not worthy of me. I spent so many years worried that you get frustrated or impatient with me and leave. So sure you would assume I’d find a woman and eventually leave. Coming out as bisexual was the hardest thing I ever did because I risked your friendship. Now I’m marrying my best friend, and I think I might be dreaming.”

The tears, the hugging, and the kissing continued until we needed tissues. Ethan’s disbelief melted into excitement, and he fetched his laptop so we could Skype his mother in Florida.
When she saw the ring, she made the exact same noise as her son, and punctuated it with a: “Well it’s about fucking time!”
I left them alone for a moment so they could talk about how much Ethan’s father would have loved to see this moment.

After we called our respective families, I took Ethan out for a walk in the snow which had blanketed the neighborhood. I looked behind us and saw our footprints recede into the distance, and I realized that we had always been sharing the same path. We would be officially starting a new life as one. I squeezed Ethan’s hand.
“I will always love you.”

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Text is fictional. The source and maker of the ring is here.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I lean against him, one hand around his waist. He’s mostly quiet now, except for his sniffles punctuating the silence of our living room. The warm Florida sunlight streaming in through the windows is making me sleepy. I close my eyes, doing my best to emanate calmness and serenity. It took me nearly twenty minutes to get him to calm down, my boyfriend was that upset.

I was just congratulating myself on my ability to recover from such a turn of events when Quint’s thin facade crumbled again. I felt his shoulders tremble first. I opened my eyes and turned my head slightly him, just enough time to see his bottom lip tremble but not enough time to react.
“My gecko,” he wailed through a tight throat, and fresh tears began to fall. “My poor little Shovel.” He burst into fresh sobs.
“Oookay come here,” I cooed, using my hand on his waist to guide him sideways and into my arms. Quint crawled into my embrace and set to work on soaking my shirt again. I held him tight, wishing I could do something – anything – to lessen his pain.

The shock of coming back from a trip to the post office to find the little guy deceased had sunk in now, and Quint was now ruminating in his grief. I kissed his temple and rocked him. “Oh my poor baby.”
“I already miss him so much,” Quint babbled. “I am never gonna see his smiling face when I come to see him again. I’m never going to feed him another mealworm again, or watch him climb up the glass like Spiderman… he was just such a bro. Watching TV is never going to be same without him. He loved hockey.”
I try not to laugh. It’s not the right time. “Aww honey. Shovel had an excellent life with you. You said he was old wasn’t it?”
Quint nodded as he blew his nose with a tissue he pulled from the box to his side. “He was old for a leopard gecko. He was 17. I had him since I was 11. He was my birthday gift for getting straight As in school. I spent more of half my life with with-” At the end of that sentence, Quint’s voice goes up into a falsetto and clings to me hard, still crying. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.
“There, there,” I say, knowing my words won’t do a thing.
“I had gotten him some new stuff for his terrarium for Christmas. What do I do with it now?”
“You can donate it to a reptile rescue, so some other lizard will get a nice life in Shovel’s name.”
I can’t tell if that upset Quint or made him happier, but the waterworks are in full gush mode right now. I hug him until I’m worried his ribs are going to break. My heart hurts for my boyfriend and I feel a little helpless that I can’t make this suck less.

Quint sniffles. “Two days before Christmas…why…”
“He just decided it was time,” I explain. “Shovel was very lucky to have you. I don’t want you blaming yourself now. He knew your schedule well. I think he passed when you were out at the post office because he couldn’t do it while you were around. Shovel knew how much you loved him.”
“Y-you think so?”
“Yes,” I say, with a nod. “He was an old gecko. He just took a nap and went. I’d say that’s the best you could have hoped for right? No pain, no lingering illness…”
“I loved that gecko.” Quint pauses for a loud hiccup. “I knew this was coming one day. I just thought there would be a sign…”
“Being 17 was a sign, love.” I insist.
“Still. I wanted more time,” Quint whines. He still hasn’t let go of me.
“I know, baby, but that wouldn’t be fair to Shovel. Shovel couldn’t give you more than that. He gave you all he could.”
Quint is quiet for a long moment, thinking about his beloved pet. “You are such a wonderful boyfriend, Marcus,” he says, surprising me. “I am blubbering like an idiot and crying all over you and you’re just putting up with me.”
“It’s part of loving you,” I say. “Being in a relationship means that you don’t just get the fun times and good sex-”
“Yeah the sex is pretty damn good,” admits Quint.
I chuff through my nose. “It is. But it also means being there when you need someone to get you through hard times. Shovel was part of our family. I’m not a total dick. I will put black bunting on his terrarium in mourning, if you want, and we can have a lovely funeral for the little guy.”
“Oh, I’d like that! I’d like that a lot.” Quint kisses me on the lips, then rests his head on my shoulder. “You are getting so many good boyfriend points right now.”
I smile. “Does that mean I’m getting extra Christmas presents?”
“Oh, it definitely does. And I’ll even let you be the little spoon in bed when we sleep.”
“Oh ho, I am a good boy on Santa’s list this year huh?”
Quint nods once more. “Uh-huh. Very good. God, I love you, Marcus.”
“I love you too, Quint. Why don’t we get you something cool to drink and you can wash your face?”
“Oh vodka. I need vodka.”
I laugh. “11 am vodka it is. A drink in Shovel’s memory?”
“To Shovel,” Quint agrees, all red-eyed and drained of energy.

I pat my lover on the shoulder, help him get up, and walk him to the kitchen. Again, I applaud myself for how well I handled the situation. I had been dangerously close to thinking Quint might be “the one”, but there were a few last tests to be done before I could make such a declaration. I was pretty sure we passed this one. There were a few more tests left, like talking about having children, and then I would know for sure if Quint could be mine for good. I was looking forward to them, because I was confident everything would work in our favor. I was confident in our love, because nothing could stop me from feeling the way I did about Quint – on good days, or bad ones.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Can I get on? I wanna get on,” he grouses, pouting all the while, climbing into my lap.
“Woaah – ok there big guy. Oof! Watch your leg there. Ok oook alright. Are you sure you don’t want to do this somewhere more comfortable?”
“No now,” he insists, settling into my lap. “Put it in me. I want it.”
There is something oddly adorable about the sullen, childish tone he is using with me. I reach under and position my cock up. He wiggles his ass until he gets into the right place, and slides down with a loud gasp until we are flush.
“Oh god, yes,” he breathes, wrapping an arm around me. “So good, so good.” He clenches his ass and moans as I push up into him. “More.”
“You have to do some of the work, baby,” I gently remind hm.
“I just want to be connected. I missed you so much.”

And there it is. He put on a stiff upper lip when I picked him up the airport, but when I got him home he totally fell apart. He’s always been one to hide his emotions until he’s all stuffed up. Sometimes when he’s horny, I can get himself to bare himself to me without any guards up at all. After months away, he was fragile as spun glass.
“You missed me?”
“So much,” he sniffles. “London was grey without you.”
“You didn’t have a good time studying abroad?”
“I learned a lot but I was lonely.”
“Aww, there there. I’m here now.” I run my palms up and down his back, doing my reassure him. I tense my thighs and trust up into his tight ass; he rewards me by squeezing his buttocks around me and groaning. I sigh as I slide in and out of him, my face and nose buried in his shoulder.
No condoms. No distance, not in miles, not in centimeters.

“I missed you too.”

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

jeanbaptistehuong:

© JBH/BVD-2014 – Madrid (Spain)

Fabrice & Sylvain

When we’re out in public, or on the streets, they see a man that just doesn’t stop. He’s gregarious, extraverted, out-going. Always there with a grin and a wave and a boisterous. “Hey how have you been? How’s your mom/dog/sister/job/chastity going?” He remembers everyone. Memory like a steel trap.

At work, he’s bright eyed and bushy tailed at 7 am, cheerful and chipper and done with his work by 3 pm. He’ll top it off with a work-out and then come home to cook-dinner by humming.

At leather events, he’s almost like a puppy although he is the one holding my leash. He struts around, so eager to show me off while trying to talk to everyone and investigate everything. Pulling me aside to fuck me in a fit of lust only seems to spur him on more, and for the next hour he’ll lavish me in attention and touches until I’m desperately horny again and sucking his cock in the middle of the room. His nickname is the Energizer Bunny at these events for a reason. Four hours of spanking demonstrations? Ok! Let’s go.

What these people don’t see is that my baby needs to recharge sometimes. Sometimes those batteries do wind down, and he gets sullen and cranky. He can only get his energy back through a thermal charge, so I’ll half carry him into the bedroom for a nap. He’ll cling to me, both hands touching my skin like positive and negative terminals, seeking the current running through me. We’ll talk in low voices until he drifts off to sleep, and he charges.

I like to stroke his hair and kiss his face, and shower him with the gentlest love I can manage. I can’t do these things when he’s zooming around the house. This is my time to monopolize him, without roles or statuses. He goes from an Energizer bunny to my cuddle bunny.

And how do I know when he’s recharged? Because he does what all bunnies start doing when they get their vigor back – he begins to hump my leg.

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Text is fictional. Source is below.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Alright, cat. Talk.”
“Mraow.”
“Don’t be coy with me. Where is it.”
“Mraaaoow.”
“I know you know where it is. It was sitting right here. My ring, I wear it all the time. You know, on the hand I pet you with? Where is it.”
“Mraow.”
“What did you do with it? What do you want? Money? Catnip? Power? Well, you won’t get a lick of it without my ring back!” Ethan insists.
Mrs. Fluffington licks hers paws.
“Don’t you pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about!”

I watch from the recess of the hallway, smothering my giggles behind one hand while filming the scene with my phone in the other. Ethan smacks the table with his palm. “Where is it! Talk damn you, or I will make you talk.”
The cat jerks her head up at the noise, looks at Ethan, then stands up and headbutts him. Ethan sighs and begins to scritch her behind the ears. “Yeah, yeah you like that huh? Feels good huh? Right in that spot. Weellllllll now you won’t get anymore until you tell me where the ring is!”
“Mraaaaow.”
Ethan growls in frustration as Mrs. Fluffington rolls to her side to show off her belly. He narrows his eyes
“They taught you well in cute school. You won’t break easily. Crafty cat. Wait…did you eat it? Did you eat my ring?”
“Mew.”

I know I should really just step in and give Ethan the ring back, but this is far too entertaining. I had taken the ring to measure so I would know what size band to get for his engagement ring. It’s going to be the big surprise for Christmas. Thing was though, Ethan never takes his father’s high school ring off, which made it difficult to measure. When I saw that Ethan had left the ring on the table before he went outside to clean out the gutters after last night’s storm, I made my move. I hadn’t expected him to come back in so soon though, and now I had inadvertently framed my cat.

“Purring are we? That’s a bold move, Mrs. Fluffington. If that even is your real name. You aren’t even married. I know this, I have your file. Talk, kitty, it’s for the best. If you talk, I won’t have to take you into the medical room. Mwuahah. Is that what you want? You have ten seconds to talk. Your adorableness won’t save you this time.” Ethan said in a cartoon-villain sort-of-voice.

I can’t contain myself and my laughter catches his attention.
Ethan swivels his head around until he spots me. “How long have you been standing there?” he asks, sheepish.
“Long enough,” I reply with a smile, tucking my phone into my pocket. “You’re good at that, I think she was about to crack.”

Ethan picks up the cat and snuggles her like a baby. “I seriously think she ate my ring though.”
I make a show of sauntering into the living room holding up his ring in one hand. “I have your ring. I took it to polish it. She was sniffing at it, didn’t want her to eat it or knock it on the floor.”
Ethan’s face melts in relief. “Thank god. Scared me there. I always get so nervous when I take it off.”
“Sorry love.” I kiss his cheek. “I didn’t expect you to come back in so soon. Are you done already?”
“Nah, I had to use the bathroom.”
“Aah. Do you forgive me?”
“I think I can,” Ethan says with a smile, kissing me on the lips. I show him the ring I polished. It only looks marginally shinier.

“Man, I’d go insane if I lost it. I still feel the hole he left behind.”
I cup his bearded cheek. “Your dad would be so proud of you, all your accomplishments. Your weight loss. He’d be pleased that you grew up into such a handsome man.”
Ethan lets the cat down so he can pluck the ring from me and turn it in his fingers. “I would hope so. I often wonder how he would feel if he knew I was in a relationship with a man.”
“Hm. I think he would be a bit freaked out at first, maybe a bit hostile, but once he got to realize you were the same son, I think he’d be ok with it. Besides, I like football, I think we would have bonded.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Your mom likes me doesn’t she?.”
Ethan nodded. “Yeah she does. Joel?”
“Mm?”
“You know…” he slides the class ring on and off his finger, distractedly. “I wouldn’t mind wearing your ring next to this one day.”

I smile, my heart aching for how much I love this man. He’s making it very hard to keep my secret, well, a secret. I almost crack and propose right there and then. I take his hands into my own.
“I think we are moving in that direction for sure, Ethan,” I say slowly. “That’s something we can absolutely discuss more after Christmas, when we can look at our budget and see just how much we spent spoiling your nieces.”
He makes an exaggerated wince. “Yeah I think we bought the whole toy store…”
I chuckle, and nuzzle him. Ethan returns my affection and kisses me. I volley it back. He smells kinda nice, all outdoors-y. One kiss turns into two, two into four, four into… well.

After some time of standing there, with our hands roving over each-other’s torso’s, Ethan breaks the connection.
He sounds breathy. “Hey uh…you know, I really need to go finish cleaning the gutters before it rains again tonight…”
“…but?” I pry.
“But I was thinking, I would much rather have sex with you right now,” he admits, looking sheepish.
I suppress a groan. I love it when Ethan announces his intentions so bluntly like that. It didn’t use to be this way. His history was mostly with women, and it took him a long time to come around to his lust for me.
“Jesus Ethan,” I sigh. “I would love that. We’ll just do a quick one, alright? So you can get back to those all important gutters.”
“Juuust a quick one,” he agrees.
“Maow.”
We both look down at the black and white fuzzball weaving around our legs.
“And that means keeping the door closed so you can’t get in.”
“Man it’s so weird the way she likes to watch us,” Ethan says. I laugh, and then I take his hand and escort him upstairs.

I can barely wait for Christmas. He’s going to be so surprised.

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Text is fictional. Sequel is here!

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Pup looks up at his Master’s stern face and realizes he’s in deep trouble. …But he had a lot of fun rolling around, and feels pretty all covered in glossy black paint, so he gives a happy smile and a panting tongue. He hopes being adorable will help him avoid the worst of the spanking.

“…What are you doing?”
The pup looks down, sheepishly. “I…I wanted to know what I’d look like if I had patches or spots?”
“Christ, how on Earth am I supposed to punish you when you’re being that cute?”

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Text is fictional. Edited!

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Why do YOU get a bigger, cooler wooden sword?”
“Because I’m a bottom. I need to protect myself from lustful men,” Bobby says, swinging it around.
“But I’m the top! I’m in charge here!”
“Your sword is in your pants. That’s why you get the skinny one, cause it looks like you’re dick”
“My dick isn’t skinny! It’s bigger than yours! Da~~~dddy~~ why does he get a big sword?”

Sigh. “…We are never going to get this Christmas play together in time. You are both two old for time-outs. Bobby, stop teasing Max. Max, stop whining. You get the wooden sword in the next act.”
“Yes Daddy,” they said simultaneously.

“Alright, now let’s try this again from the top. And action! Good.. Good. Move over there good. Wait – Max stop trying to take the sword away from him! Arg, cut!”

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Text is fictional. Edit – just noticed the other guy actually does have a sword so I had to rewrite it…

Gallery
by ccallenreese

torontopup:

gymger:

Dildo sucking gay ginger

www.recon.com/torontoslave
practice makes perfect

Peter the puppy made a whuff of surprise when the peanut butter flavored dildo he was sucking popped off the wall. He blinked, digesting what just happened. He could stick it to the floor but it was such a bad angle for oral practice. Instead, he dropped it and picked it up with his teeth. He’d let Master deal with it.

His Master did not appreciate when his pup waltzed in and dropped the dildo in his lap expectantly in front of the guests he had over for dinner.

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Text is fictional.