Gallery

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.

__________________
Captions are fictional. 

Gallery

“Hey Coach – it’s a pretty warm
day for tennis. Mind if I take off my shirt?”
He nearly drops the tennis ball canister he’s holding. “Mind? Why would I mind?
Nah, sport, go right ahead.”
“Sweet.” I peel it off and toss it aside and then stretch. “Much better. …Hey
coach whatcha staring at?”
“Oh um. Sorry. Nothing. You just reminded me of myself when I was young.”
I give him a grin. “Coach you’re a terrible liar.”
He turns red. “Don’t call your Coach a liar!”
I pick up the racket. “How about if you win this round, I’ll take a shower in
the public space instead of the stall this time?”
Coach totally freezes. The public space is where he showers. He suggested that
in the beginning so I’d have my privacy and we could be in the locker room at
the same time. I try not to laugh as I catch him catch himself drooling. He
looks like a pup that just saw a very big steak. “Yeah …yeah sure Sport. That sounds
like a real good challenge,” he says with a smirk. “Just don’t lose on purpose, sport. Big Daddy wants a real victory.”

___________________________
Text is fictional.

Gallery

“Aww gee, the guys are there. I really want to go out and play! If I make enough baskets, they let me suck their cocks after the game too. Pleaaase Sir? I’ll get my socks nice and dirty and sweaty for you.”

I wonder if Angelo displays his ass on purpose when asking for favors, as he knows how much I love his hole…he makes me call it a “pussy”, which I’m still getting used to. Well, it is a glorious pussy. Also, there’s a big chunk of change to be made in selling those socks. I sigh. “First replace the sheets and make the beds, then you may go. You won’t linger long after the game. When it’s over, you will shower and clean the entire bathroom before starting on dinner. Understand?”
Angelo squealed at me, dropping to my feet to press a few kisses to my toes. “Thank you sir, thank you.” He was then on his feet again, making a bad dash for the linen closet. In eight minutes he had the entire bed stripped and redressed. After smoothing out the wrinkles, he grabbed his basketball and ran to the door.
“Shorts! Shorts!” I called out after him, “I know you’re comfortable around the house wearing only your chastity device, but you need to be covered in public.”
He looks down and blushes, “Oh yes. Right. Thank you sir.”

I give him a bottle of water and he’s out the door. I watch through the living room window as Angelo jogs across the street to the park and joins the game. I originally met him this way – watching him through the window playing ball in tiny shorts with no shirt on, then joining the game myself. Someone needed to tame Angelo – his parents weren’t around much and he was constantly choosing risky decisions even as a young adult.

I set some strict rules when he moved in – curfew, permission had to be asked to go out, chores. I also controlled his cock, the source of most of his trouble and last STD, and gave him spankings for misbehaving. They were tough rules for free-spirited boy, but he needed it. He knew it. Angelo only accepted the offer to be my houseboy if I let him still play ball with the guys in the park. It was a solid agreement, and I was happy to say Angelo was thriving. He was holding down a job and considering trade school.  

I stepped away from the window and went to the closet. Having him out of the house gave me an excuse to finally wrap his Christmas presents.