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ginger-kicks:

s i l v e r – l i n i n g

“Take your time, catch your breath.”
“I hate this stupid chastity cage. I don’t want to wait another week. I’m ready to do this now.”
“You were probably ready to go last week. I mean, you’re at the top of your game. You’re one of the top in the sport-”
“I am the top. In this region, anyway. Will be East Coast champ soon enough.”
I smile. “Yes. I am confident of that you will be. Your training and patience will pay off. And you know you need the hormones. The release once you win will be extasy. It’s worth the wait.”

Tom punches the bag hard. The muscles in his arm bulge. “Just a week seems like an eternity.”

I step behind him and massage his shoulders, although they’re slick with sweat, trying to get him to release some of the tension. “You’ll feel better after we have sex tonight. You always leak a lot overnight, and if you don’t, we can try some tactics to help you drain a little more if you need it.”
He exhales. “Yeah, that would probably help. Feeling a little sore from how full my balls are.”
“Oh the problems of a virile young man and his big swingin’ nuts.”
He chuffs out his noise. “I am a brute aren’t I?’
“You’re an athlete,” I correct. “A refined and talented athlete. Wrestling is a classic human sport isn’t it? Perhaps the purest there is. No other sport so elegantly shows off the full capacity of the body.”
“There is something about wrestling naked,” Tom says almost to himself. “Something primitivize and amazing.”
“I wish you could see yourself wrestle. You look beautiful. You know, people come up to me the entire night and tell me what a specimen you are. Sometimes I think if I told them to buy you, they actually would.”
That makes him laugh. “Sold like a show pony?”
“Well, sports players are traded aren’t they?” I lean into his ear. “Imagine if all the wrestlers in this league were owned by their trainers….traded like a commodity, housed like dogs, inspected like horses.  You’d just be muscular sex machines for us to use for sport and fuck for our entertainment.”
“Oh shit,” he replies in a husky voice. 
“Your cock enslaved to me as much as your body.”
Tom pushes his ass back against me; I can feel him trembling. “Oh, you’re – you’re getting hard.”
“You make me hard,” I murmur.” I pull his body against mine.
“Can we just – like, right here?” Tom pleads. 
“Take your gloves off, I can fuck you over the wrestling bench.”
“Fuck, that’s a good idea.” Tom sheds his gloves and his shorts. He’s been leaking and his thighs are glistening. Nearly causes me to blow my load. 
“That’s it stud, right there. Oh hell yeah.” I pick up the oil I use to make his skin shiny. “Gonna give you the relief we both need right now.”
“Just – gah.” Tom curses. “Don’t make me cum. Just leak. Need the hormones to fight better.” He bends over the bench and puts his hands on it, ass out.
“That, Tom. That is the attitude of a winner. And winners get cock.” I toss my shorts aside and stride over to take his hole and fill it with my seed.

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Captions are fictional. 

Link

James Harrison of the National Ballet of Canada demonstrates his lower back work out

James Harrison of the National Ballet of Canada demonstrates his lower back work out

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bonermakers:

A squeeze for good luck.

“See you after the game?” Rick grins, lifting and squeezing my bulge before wandering off to join his team. The question is rhetorical, but even if it wasn’t my mouth is too dry to answer. I look around. No one seems to have cared he just groped me – me! Rick Castille just groped me! A guy from my team gave me a thumbs up though.
Oh Rick is so hot, every gay boy, half the bi ones, and some of the straight ones want him. He is all lean muscle and strong legs, angular shoulders and flat stomached, which make his cock look huge pushing out of his shorts.

Underwear flag football is our boarding school’s tradition – there is always lot of cock flashed on the field, sure, which is why I made sure to jack it before hand to prevent any unwanted boners. Rick managed to undo all my hard work though and it takes considerable will to keep it soft. I can still feel his hand cupping and elevating my cock. Sigh.

Oh Rick. I try not to think about blowing him after the game when he’s all dirty and sweaty and his cock is the only clean thing about him. I try not to think about him forcing me up against the cold lockers and fucking me raw. I try not to think about him coming up behind me in the shower and jacking me off. I want him to be my first. I want Rick to pop my cherry. Every gay boy has his boarding school fantasy but… he groped me. Now my brain actually thinks I have a chance.

Oh, it appears we’re on opposite teams. I hope he tackles me… I hope he tackles me and humps in the middle of the field and clai–

FOCUS. Focus. Ok. Game is starting. I am gonna impress the hell out of him, make him horny and come hunting for my body after the game. We’ll celebrate naked, aroused and –

“VICTOR let’s GO!”

I jump six feet into the air. “SORRY! Sorry! I’m comin’! I uh, thought I saw a falcon. Just a crow. Yep. That’s all. I’m coming. Let’s win this!”

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Damn…he barely looked at me, and I was like shirtless for five minutes. What can I do to impress him? Do I need to be muscular? More twinky? I have no idea what kind of guys he’s into….I just know he’s into cock, but I can’t ask him because I’m not supposed to know that. He’s not out. Man, this is so frustrating! Watching his ass in those shorts on the field is totally distracting too. I just want him to notice me…

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Post is fictional. Apparently the guy in front is Louis Tomlinson.