“Hey do you see that?”
“What?”
“Is that a shark?”
“What? Where?”
“OM nom nom nom shark attack!”
“aaaaaahhahaha! Ack, your tongue is in my ear!”
“Will you two stop being so adorkable and hurry up already? The seagulls are going to steal your chips.”
Tag: adorable
As things heated up between us, we were getting progressively more careless about doing things in public. Not that we were having sex on the new beds in the furniture section at Macy’s or anything like that. We were starting to hold hands in movies, sneak kisses when we thought we were unobserved.
It all started to mean a lot to me when I saw how free straight couples were to neck, pet, and do other overtly sexual things in public without any fear of any kind of reprisal. All my life I’d had to hide my feelings from others, to keep my true nature as hidden as I could or risk being beaten up or called unsavory, hurtful names.
So in the diner, when I realized that no one could see our arms or legs under the table, I put my hand on his hairy knee and just stroked. After a minute, his finger was on my shin, the other hand pressing on mine tightly. That was all that happened, then, but I know I remembered it later when we were alone. I’ll bet he did, too.
Sweet <3
“I don’t know if I can go through with this.”
“Why, what’s a matter, baby?”
“I’m too nervous to meet your parents. I just- I mean everything has been going so well, but I’m gonna fuck it up somehow and then they’re going to hate me.”
“They won’t hate you. I’ve talked about you to them before. They want to meet you, they keep pestering me about bringing you over. It’s just a barbeque, not a state dinner.”
He sighs. “What if they bring up my stint in rehab? How am I supposed to answer that?”
I reach over to hold his hand, entwining our fingers together. He latches on to me with a strong grip. “Just tell them you don’t think it’s really appropriate to be talking about that now, but if they have questions they can discuss it later with you in private. Besides, you’re completely clean and have been free from drugs for years, you should be proud of that. Both my parents have done stuff in their youth that was questionable anyway. They shouldn’t bring it up.”
He sighs again, squeezing my hand still. I rub his thumb knuckle with my own thumb for reassurance.
“Ok, I think I’m gonna be ok. They’ll like me, and it’ll be great, and I’m freaking out for nothing.”
I tilt my head. “Is it really so important to you that accept you?”
“Yes!” he hisses. “Cause you’re important to me. This relationship is important to me. I want our families to like each other, and well – I still have pretty low self-esteem from my flophouse days. Their approval of me also goes a long way in reassuring me that you’re not too good for me.”
“Aww baby,” I coo. I lean to the side and kiss him. “I love you, and that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me. Well the fact you’re so serious about this means that you’re good boyfriend material..”
“You mean it?”
“I mean it.”
He pauses a moment. “Ok. I’m ready.”
I press another kiss to his cheek, then knock on the door before letting myself inside. “Mom, Dad, we’re here!”
______________________________________________________________
Text is fictional. I couldn’t locate the source. It looks like it came from a movie.
I love this pic too much not to share it with you guys.
Who’s up for play? *wags*
How could you not throw him a ball?
We’re so sympatico. Right as I glance down, he glances up and our eyes meet; he pauses mid-lick. I grab my phone off the nightstand and snap a photo of my adorable sub. For a moment, his pup side melts away at the sound of the shutter; he’s Gustavo again, and suddenly self-aware of what he’s doing on all fours. A sheepish smiles blooms on his face and blush comes to his cheeks. Then, he catches the scent of my crotch and nuzzles it with his eyes closed. When he opens his lids again, his pup side is back and his tongue goes to work. He loves to lick my crotch in the morning to get me horny, right before he tugs down the band with his teeth and sucks me dry.
I later printed a wallet size version of that shot so I could always have a bit of my boy with me, where-ever I go.
_________________________________
Text is fictional. Pup’s name is unknown.
“Oh puppy, what are you doing? Did you drop one of your toys behind the sofa again? This is what happens when you play on the sofa instead of the floor,” I chide him as I climb onto the cushions and peer back there. Something is wedged between the sofa and the wall. I get off the sofa and pull the furniture far away from the wall enough so not only does the the item fall, but so I can take a few steps forward and retrieve it. When I see what it is, I shake my head and sigh.
“Puppy.”
“Woof?”
“I’ve told you this before. Dildos are not chew toys.’
He still tries to snatch it out of my hand with my teeth.
"No! Bad puppy! Bad. This was an expensive dildo and now it has teethmarks in it.”
He stops wiggling his butt at the tone of my voice and lowers his head, giving me big sad eyes. I fold my arms. “You have chew toys. Use them.” I sigh again. “I’m afraid you need to be punished for this. Go fetch the paddle.”
He pouts at me, and whines. When he sees I’m not going to relent, he begrudgingly goes to get it. I give him 15 swats, then shut him in the bathroom for an hour with a proper chew toy. Of course, he whimpers through half of it before falling asleep for a quick nap on the bathmat. So stubborn!
He wants me to feel bad, and I do, but he has to learn. When I let him out of the bathroom, I do give him a cookie and a back scratch to let him know I’ve forgiven him. I since have hidden the dildos better. When they’re not up his ass, they’re hidden away safely away and out of reach from chewy pups.
______________
Text is fictional.
My boyfriend is adorable. He has a child-like fascination for arts, music, animals, nature. He enjoys a day at the zoo as much as a day at the museum. He’s not scared to try new foods or beers whose names he can’t pronounce or go to unfamiliar cities beyond the subway lines. We often spend entire days together, wandering from place to place, having little adventures instead of dates.
Thing is, my boyfriend has a moderate form of chronic fatigue syndrome. After our time together he often just simply cannot make it home or stand any longer. Instead of just calling him a cab and shoving him in, I lovingly carry him all the way back to the car or back to one of our flats. He clings to me like a koala, often falling asleep with his head nestled against my shoulder.
I’m proud to be his man. He told me his other boyfriends got bored and frustrated with his condition; he rarely left the house. The fact that I can make him smile and help him live a normal life is part of the reason I love him so much. He is so positive and optimistic, that I cannot help but be in a good mood around him. I don’t mind the stares of people as I carry my boyfriend down the street. I want them to know what love looks like, in any form.
_________________
Text is fictional
A midday nap in his arms.
The room had originally been half sun-room, half parlor, a small walled off addition in his aunt’s Victorian-era apartment for visiting guests to drink tea and gossip. In these recent times, it housed storage, a collection of light hungry plants, and a small bed for over-night guests. It was our home now, and that little niche was our space. After Matt’s parents kicked him out for being gay, I ran away from foster care with him to his aunt’s home two hours away. Matt called her in tears; she immediately bought us a bus ticket and told us to get our butts on it. We arrived with a duffel bag each, hungry and exhausted, but holding hands and smiling.
She’d set us up in this tiny room and let us have our privacy. It wasn’t going to be easy. I needed to finish my GED since I failed my senior year; we needed to get our footing and pick a direction for us to go. My baby, Matt, I’m so proud of him though. He’s from a wealthy family and never had to want for anything, but the morning after we arrived he went and got himself a job serving at a diner. I knew it couldn’t have been easy on his pride, his confidence. Did I mention how much I love him? It’s hard to know at this age if “love” is “forever love” or just “stupid love”, but I think it’s a little of both.
Matt got back from working the early breakfast shift and went right to bed for a nap. He was so worn-out. I took a break from doing chores, intending to reward him for his hard work with slow, lazy sex, but he was already asleep. My poor Matt. I spoon up next to him, wiggling my arms around his shoulders.
“Hey,” he mutters, more of a grunt than anything, but the corner of his lip goes up.
“Sorry didn’t mean to wake you,” I say, kissing the back of his neck, “You’re so nice and warm though.”
“Mmm, itsh nice. Love you,” he smiles again, before drifting back off. It’s the beginning of a wonderful afternoon nap together, like two lazy cats in the sun. When he’ll stir a a couple hours later, I intend to greet him with lube and a condom and make slow love to him. Wake him up with my hand between his legs. He loves that, when he’s in just the right mood.
Of course, my chores might not get done in time, but we need to make sure we take time for each-other. I worry that we’ll become so obsessed with ‘making it’ on our own that we’ll lose focus of why we’re doing it. Matt is my reason. I am his. I sniff the back of his neck. It smells faintly of strawberry conditioner, diner coffee, and him. God, I love this boy. I hope this really is the start to the long, long story of us.
____________________________________________________________
Text is fictional. Been trying to caption this picture for months and am pleased with the results.
My ass is yours 😉
You guys need to go check out this boy’s blog and follow him immediately. All he posts is shots of his cute little backside, with plenty of teaser shots of his cock too. Someone needs to go find him and breed him, cause he clearly wants and needs it.
You don’t take a kid into a toy store unless it’s on purpose because you know your kids will want you to buy everything in the store. When taking the slave for a walk, same principle applies. Avoid all bondage stores, piercing stores, shoe stores… When you’re a well recognized face in the neighborhood though, it’s hard to just stroll past these places without saying hello.
When we walked past the store where we bought what he was wearing, Max, the owner, was standing outside. He greeted me with a big hug and thud on the back and took us inside to show us the new line of books he was carrying. Well, there were a lot of pretty men in this books and I got more than l little distracted. When I looked up, my slave was crouched by the jewelry cabinet and was giving me those puppy eyes. Of course, he saw something he wanted. Of course. It’s so hard to say no to him, he’s such a good boy.
…and yes, I bought it. A silver chain for him to wear for social settings where he couldn’t wear his collar. And I bought a book. I’m seriously a push-over outside the dungeon. But my boy is happy and that’s what matters to me.
_______________
Text is fictional.