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dappergentsclub:

Preparations for a Dapper day 👍🏻 @sinabrochar

#MensFashion #MensWear #MensStyle #MensLook #MensClothing #MensSuitStyle #SuitAndTie #Dapper #Outfit #Fashion #Style #Hot #Look #Cool #Inspiration #Life #Repost #Photo #DapperGentsClub

“What are you staring at?” Robin asks, folding his flannel scarf.
“I’m watching you dress,” I reply, leaning against the wall with my foot pressed against it for support. “I just realized that I’d never seen you dress before.” Robin gives me a look and an eyebrow raise to convey that he’s never heard such an odious lie and is offended he thinks I’d swallow it. “You have seen me dress before. Plenty. All those times after we had sex, or after the shower – you know, before we moved in?”
I fuss with the band of my underwear, the only thing I’m wearing. “Well yeah, but you were always wearing jeans or something. I’ve never seen you dress for work.” 
“Not true. I’ve slept over at your place and gone to work the next morning, and more than once I might add.”
I can’t tamp down a small smile. “Nope. All those times you came out of the bathroom fully dressed in your work clothes, or I came out of the bathroom and you were already dressed.” 
“What’s so captivating about watching me dress for work?” Robin asks. 
I blush a little and switch feet. “I’ve never gotten to bathe you, and help moisturize you, and then taken the trimmer and touched up your beard. Then, I’ve never gotten to watch you put on your slacks, slide the delicate shirt fabric over your beautiful torso and watch it take shape over your muscles, then watch work those tiny buttons with the same fingers that stroke my cock so strong and tenderly…”  
Robin is fixated on me, and now he is blushing too.
“And you look so serious when picking your tie and suspenders, you’d think you were the President going on television or something. And then damn – there you are. Fashionable, stylish Robin. Looking utterly gorgeous and ready to take on the world.” 
 Robin just stares at me. He fumbles with the scarf in his hands. “I – I’m uh, wow,” he chuckles. “No one has ever said something like that to me before. It’s really flattering.” 
My smile widens. “It’s true. Just another perk of loving you and sharing a home with you.”  
Robin’s expression softens. “You are so beautiful with your words, you know that? Especially when they come out of those soft lips of yours….” 
It’s my turn to feel my ears burning. “Well, a poet has to have his muse.”

Robin glances aside and adjusts himself. “Turn around and put your hands against the wall.”

I raise both eyebrows. “Are you arresting me?”

“You wish. Which reminds me, I need to buy some handcuffs now that we have a headboard.” 
“Oooo.”
“Do as I say.”
I turn around and position myself like he asks, trying not to move too much. I love it when Robin gets bossy but it does not happen very often. I hear a drawer open and close. A moment later, I hear him get off the bed, which is followed by socked feet padding on the wood floor. Hands find my waist, which makes me jump. Robin kisses my shoulder and without asking permission, pushes down my underwear.

I gasp. This was a new type of play. I was eager to see where it went. When I turn my head towards him, I am given strict instructions to keep my gaze forward, to get real acquainted with that shade of Duck Eggshell White paint we used. A pair of smooth hands caress my hips and then my ass. I arch my spine and the hands squeezed me. I keen out into my arm, quickly becoming excited.

I hear the tear of paper, and the flick of a lid. I’m incredulous. He’s going to fuck me, just like this! Without even asking! I think it’s kind of thrilling to be wanted and lusted over and used like property. 
God, if he treats me like how he treats his clothing then I hope I’m his property.  I wait for Robin to stretch me but he does not. He just suites up and pushes in. The pain feels like a spark of electricity, but luckily I’m still a bit loose from all that dildo play last night. I feel virginal and Robin feels huge. I’m sure I’m drooling on the wall.
He rocks against me, sliding in and out. I try to meet his pace but it causes conflict with his pattern. Robin presses his fingers into my iliac grooves and pulls my hips up and back. Instantly, and impossibly, he slides in even deeper. I cry out, a ragged noise and strangled gasp. 
Robin groans. “I knew you could fit another inch.”  

I can feel the course fabric of his pants push up against me with every thrust. We don’t make it to ten. Robin stands up on his toes and pins me to the wall, wanting to be as close to me as possible when releasing his load. I hear him take in a huge lungful of air, hold it, and then release it after the orgasm peaks. His heat flows inside of me, and I wish he isn’t wearing a condom. I feel oddly happy and dizzy, and I realize I came when he did – all over the wall. “Shit,” I mutter. 
“Mmmn,” Robin replies, reaching around to play with my balls. We enjoy a moment together. A bird chirps outside.

“Now,” Robin purrs in my ear, pausing to teeth my ear lobe. “I have to go to work and earn bread for our household. You be good for me, do your chores, attend your grad classes, and when I get home, I want you to greet me wearing hardly anything ok?”
I press my forehead against the wall. Everything was still spinning. How could I feel so empty and yet still totally slutty after what Robin just said?
I nod.
“Fuck yeah. How about instead, totally naked?”
“…You’d do that for me?” Robin asks. 
“Anything for the man of my dreams. And don’t forget to take your lunch with you ok? I made it with love.”
“You made me lunch?” Robin replies, genuinely surprised. 
 “Just some left overs I packed last night,” I admit.
Robin slaps me on the butt once, making me yelp.
“Fuck, I wish I could stay home and just make love to you in every room of our new condo.”
I chuckle. “One day you should.” 
Robin nuzzles my shoulder and his beard scratches me. “One day I will. But today I must go in to work because someone made me a nice lunch and I do not want to waste it.”

Robin kisses the back of my neck, swats me on the butt again, and then drifts away. He throws the condom in the trash, cleans himself up. I watch him over my shoulder with doe eyes as he maneuvers his half tamed cock back into his jockstrap. Yeah, the man doesn’t even own normal underwear.  
We kiss good-bye, and he leaves, reluctantly. I pass out on the bed and listen for him closing the door. I cover my face with my hands and sigh in bliss. I never knew how wonderful mornings could be. An early jog, breakfast together, showers, sex…. I notice something and lift my head. Oh my god, I could see my drool spot and cum on the wall from the bed. I laugh. How embarrassing! I get up and go find the cleaner. We’re running low. I make a note to buy it in bulk next time. If this is how life is going to be living together, we’re going to need it.

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Text is fictional. Picture is from and of Instagram user and fashion blogger. @sinabrochar.

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Lachlan was examining an old book of costume designs for details to borrow for illustrations when he heard a knock at the door. He was both relieved and annoyed by the sound. He needed a distraction, but he bothered that inspiration wasn’t coming to him. The illustrations were due in two days and he hadn’t done the linework – not to mention the coloring! Ugh, it was going to be overtime for sure. The other drawings
for the Richman campaign came to him instantly; he’d propped them up to
remind himself he didn’t suck at his job.

Lachlan sighed and closed the book. “Yes?” He glanced up at his secretary, a smiley, plump blonde woman.
“Um,”
she said, pointing a pencil toward the front of the office, “Your
husband is here. He’s bouncing off the walls, demanding he has to see
you ASAP.”
“Is something wrong?” Lachlan asked, already striding to the door.
“No, quite the opposite, I think.”

Their head illustrator was already running past her to the waiting area.
“Julian?” he called.
Julian
heard Lachlan’s voice and jogged toward him. He was grinning so hard his
cheeks hurt, all his teeth on display. “Come here, I gotta tell you something.” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed a very confused Lachlan by the sleeve and dragged him back into his office and
shut the door tight.
“Julian what’s going on?”
“Lach they picked us!” He leapt into his husband’s arms.
“Ooof!” Lachlan exhaled in surprise as he found his arms full of a petit brunet.
“They picked us!” Julian crowed.
“Who picked what?” Lachlan insisted.
Julian
kissed him hard. Lachlan did not dislike that, but was a tad embarrassed to
be receiving that in front of an open window. “My goodne-“
“The
adoption agency called. Couple 17, the teenagers we met two weeks ago? They liked our profile, the book we
sent them, the photos… It’s really happening Lachlan. They’ve picked us to adopt their daughter
when she’s born.”
“…What?” Lachlan breathed, shocked.
Julian smiled. “We’re going to be parents.”
All
the air left Lachlan’s throat. He worked his jaw, but nothing came out.
Tears sprung to his eyes. Julian wiped them away with his sleeve. “Us.
Parents. It’s really happening.”
“Oh my god,” Lachlan sputtered. He let
Julian down so he could hug him properly in a bone-crushing grasp.
“You’re 100% serious? They’ve picked us? Why?”
Julian giggled,
overexcited. “Yes. Our adoption counselor didn’t want to spill all over
the phone, but she said for both teenagers, there’s lot of
religious mania in the families. Huge homophobes, too. The teens said they wanted their kid to
have a “modern life” as they put it.”
“…Are you saying being a gay couple ended up working for us? After all that rejection?”
"That’s what I’m saying.”

Lachlan stared at Julian, trying to digest this. He let out a whoop and punched
the air. They made so much noise that Cathy knocked on the door.

“Um, is everything ok there in Lach?”
He went to the door to reassure their receptionist. “No it’s great! It’s fucking great! I’m going to be a dad!!”

When Lachlan’s boss found out about his and Julian’s adoption success, he took everyone in the small company out for lunch and drinks. People kept buying Lachlan and Julian drinks and the couple got a bit too drunk. Lachlan was given the rest of the day off, and Julian escorted him home.

They stumbled in through the door to their house, then made love on the sofa. As he was lying there, out of breath, delirious with happiness and cuddling a napping Julian, Lachlan suddenly had the inspiration for the drawings he was stuck on at work. He was feverishly sketching when Julian came to fetch him for dinner. After a nice meal, he went right back to his office to put down the basics for the colors. When he was done with the preliminary work, Lachlan didn’t even take a break before moving on to the next drawing project: designing the nursery.

____________________

Text is fictional.

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My phone chimes. I pick it up. It’s Grey. Such a cool name, very classic. He’s running late. I can’t remember what he does for a living, something involving archiving at a museum. He was by far one of the best candidates that responded to my ad. Still, I’m restless. I’m torn because I need someone to pay the other half of the rent, but part of me isn’t ready to share this space yet. My heart still feels raw and burnt, the sickening pain from the discovery of adultery has left me numb and taken the color out of the world.

I honestly thought I did everything right. I was a good boyfriend to Jared. I always let him know where I was, I was tidy, I cooked sometimes. I pleased him in bed, and never complained when he didn’t want to reciprocate with his mouth. It wasn’t enough though. Jared left me for the twink that made his smoothies at the gym. Can you believe that? I mean I understand the allure of a true twink and cockslut, of having some nearly hairless, lithe queer boy writhing under you, begging for you to fuck his pussy again… but Jared and I had been dating for nearly two years when he left me. That’s a boy you take home from the club, not someone you throw away a serious committed relationship for in a week. Plus, Jared always used to call me handsome. He loved my pecs. He said he liked rugged men. I just don’t understand what happened to my life. Maybe Jared really wanted a pretty houseboy or something, I don’t know.

I pace around the apartment, mournfully gazing at where Jared put his coffee mugs, and where he put his watch when he went to bed. Until yesterday, my hand-prints were still on the patio doors from when Jared last fucked me against them. It had been dark, and people could probably see us. I found it exhilarating. Now, I was ashamed and wished I’d scrubbed them away earlier.

I opened the apartment door and glanced out into the hallway. I left the door open a crack to help air out the stuffy living room. I felt lost, a bit stuck in time. I shuffled into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed. I used to get into this submissive position – back arched, arms straight, ass out – like some obedient show puppy desperate to please his Master. I thought it was fun to greet your boyfriend like that, start the evening off with some frisky sex.

Now I just feel stupid. There is no one to show of and feel sexy for. I  might as well be a puppy dropped off at the pound-

There’s the sound of knuckles rapping at the door. “Um, excuse me?” says a melodic velvety voice.

I whip my head around. My potential new roommate is standing in the open door-frame to my apartment. From that vantage point, Grey can see straight through the living room and right into my bedroom. Right at my ass. I flush with embarrassment and scramble off the bed; I practically run to the living room to greet him.
“You must be Grey,” I mumble, wanting to melt into the floor. I offer a hand. We shake.
Grey lifts the corners of his lips and raises an eyebrow at me with lots of David-Bowie-esque charm. “Pleasure’s all mine. Sorry if I was erm, interrupting, but the door was open.”
I stammer out a response. “No, it’s quite alright, I was just – er, would you like to a tour of the apartment?”
“Yes please. Are you alright?” Grey presses, putting a hand on my arm. I realize he’s wearing slim, leather gloves. What style!
I sigh. “I’m alright. I just…I don’t want to be a downer, but my boyfriend of two years just left me. This is hard, to be renting out the guest room.”
To my astonishment, Grey hugs me. “I am so sorry honey. That is never fun, or fair.”
I can’t believe how badly I need this hug right now. I crush him back, and I am mortified to feel more tears coming on.
“Aww oh dear, I’ve upset you. Come now, show me to the kitchen, I’ll make you some tea. You poor cub, I think you need someone to talk to.”
I nod miserably and show him the way. 

After Grey makes me a cup of sencha, the dam bursts. I end up completely gushing and bitching, ranting like a lunatic, going through tissues like a madman. Grey listens, always attentive, never bored, never once glancing at his phone. He pats my arm and soothes me, never accusing, always asking the right questions.

By the time I stop blubbering the teapot is empty. I take pause and sigh. “I’m sorry. This must be insufferable for you. You probably can’t wait to leave,” I snort.
“No…actually,” Grey says slowly. “I’d like to rent the apartment.”
“…What? Really? You’ve barely seen in it.”
Grey runs his finger over the circular rim of the cup. “I saw the kitchen, and the living room. And I had a nice view into the bedroom.”
I blush at his innuendo..
“This is all exactly what I am looking for, in my price range, and in a neighborhood a like. I’m a particular man. I want particular things.”
“Things?”
“Things,” Grey says with a knowing smile. His eyes linger on my chest for a moment, before flickering up to me. I am a bit mesmerized by his charm.
“…I’ll um, I’ll get the paperwork then.” I stand up, but when I notice just how green his eyes are, I end up tripping over my own feet on the way to my desk.

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Text is fictional. Originally posted by the real person on Tumblr. This story is not meant to assume his personality or sexuality.

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“So…let me get this straight.”
“There’s nothing straight about this, boy.”
“Ok, well then, let me see if I can make this clear.”
“Go on.”
“So this job of cleaning your house naked was actually an interview?”
“Yes.”
“And you want me to move out of my shitty apartment in to your awesome house and be your houseboy and poolboy?”
“Yes.”
“Naked.”
“Yes.”
“And when I finish my degree in massage therapy, you’re going to probably expect me to massage your impossibly-hot-for-48-year-old-body out by the pool?”
“Yes.”
“And you want access to my cock and want me to fuck you when you demand it? and will sometimes fuck me in return?”
“Of course. It is a long, beautiful uncut cock, I intend to enjoy it.”
“Uh ok, just…clarifying a few things.”
“Any other questions, boy?”
“….Uh, yeah, when can I start, Sir?”

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Text is fictional.