Tag: dat ass

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by ccallenreese

You can’t say “no”, and there won’t be any “no"s, not when he’s looking at you like that. There won’t be a yes either, you’ll just sigh in acceptance and unzip your pants because you never had a choice anyway. You look around though, before the clothes come all the way off.

The bedroom isn’t clean. The laundry is still on the line. He hasn’t done his chores, or made dinner, or made the bed. You don’t even think he stripped the bed before he did laundry. He’s slacking off for sure, and you swore you’d spank him more to keep him in line; but you’re standing there, looking at him, and realizing that somehow he’s hoarded all of the control. As long as he presents that round butterball ass to you, ripe and clean for a fresh fucking, it doesn’t matter that he’s breaking rules because you can’t say no. Even if you do, your sex drive sure won’t. It’s hard to be a firm disciplinarian when your cock and your heavy balls are betraying you every step of the way.

You swear, as you grab the lube, that tomorrow won’t be like this. Tomorrow you’re gonna start getting serious with him. Really. Just, not now. Tomorrow.

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Text is fictional. Source unknown.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Oh sweet boy, your body is so wonderful. I love the way your ass tenses, then gives, as I thrust up into you. It’s as if you’re always a little bit scared, but want to open up to me completely at the same time. I know when I’ve pushed my entire cock into you to the hilt, you feel full and complete in a way that leaves a void when I’m gone. You feel my thighs pushing against your bubble ass, my torso rocking against your back and just go off to heaven don’t you? You’re so at home under me. It’s where you belong. I hear those helpless noises being pushed out of your throat every time I thrust; is your head exploding from the way the comforter is rubbing against cock your trapped under you? You don’t even care. You just want to be fucked. We’re perfect for each other.
Oh, your skin is so warm. You smell like peaches and sandalwood and I’m ravenous for you. That’s why I keep licking your shoulder, just for a taste of you, your scent and your sweat is ambrosia. I’m so grateful for you, boy, for understanding how to submit and for letting me claim your ass. There’s no words I can use to explain to you how much I adore you. I hope you can read my mind, all these thoughts I’m thinking about you, although it’s a bit fuzzy in here now…I’m getting closer and closer to cumming, but I’m taking my time. I won’t rush this. Every second I am in your velvet body goes by far too fast, but the more I penetrate you, the more time slows down. I’m reaching that moment where everything falls away beyond our bed, beyond the walls, beyond the doors. It’s just you and I alone in this. There is nothing more sacred and instinctual than coupling. When I am with you, I am home.

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Text is fictional. Source unknown.

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by ccallenreese

Gregor and his friends wanted to make sure they passed their high school finals so they could all go off to college together. Their grades were decent enough, but corruption run rampant in their school system and a teacher could flunk a test because he or she simply felt like it. The boys knew they had been rambunctious this school year, that they could have done more homework, and had gotten in trouble for sucking cock in the bathroom and being late to class.
Lucky for them, the boys knew of a certain school administrator with a thing for young men. It wasn’t a secret that he would leer at their butts and crotches and it was rumored he stole underwear from the locker rooms. So, Gregor and his friends decided to use their toned bodies as a bribe to get what they wanted.

Their parents were so proud when the test results came in the mail.

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Text is fictional. Watermarked.

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by ccallenreese

As the foreign exchange student, it was my job to be properly baffled by the swaggering patriotism Americans display toward Fourth of July. I joined my host family on their trip to the lake and the subsequent BBQ but I couldn’t help but feel it was too over-the-top. The blaring country music from the stereo, the giant racks of ribs and slabs of meat going onto the grill and smoker, speedboats zooming around the lake with big flags waving on the back, the casual haphazard use of firecrackers…it was sensory overload. I stepped away from the party and went for a walk down by the dock.

That’s where I found him, all 6 foot 3 of him, upside down on his hands with his flag-clad ass in the air. My eyes were glued his taut, contracted muscles in his arms and shoulders holding up his torso. He was so pale, his hair was so blond and fine. I was captivated.

“Goddamn,” I murmured.
He came down and grinned. His face was all red. “Sorry, didn’t realize I was putting on a show for someone. I was just stretching.”
“No um. Continue. Please. I’m not really getting all this 4th of July stuff, but I think that was helping…”
His eyes flickered to the rainbow bracelet on my wrist. My host sister made it for me; it was made out of embroidery string and impossible to get off without cutting so I had left it on.  “You have a cute accent. Where are you from?”
“Indonesia. I’m a college exchange student.”
“Indonesia?” He looked impressed. “Wow, that’s far.”
I shrugged, a bit shy.
“Wanna see me do it again?”
“Yes please.”

I watched him go up on his hands again, my eyes roving over his body. I was beginning to see the allure of an American boy…if he didn’t stop this, I was going to be sporting a flagpole soon.

When he uprighted himself again he said, “My name’s James.”
“Mine’s Rukma, but everyone calls me Rick.” We shook hands.
He scrunched up his face. “Rukma is better.”
“I agree,” I said quickly.
“Hey Rukma, are you doing anything now? I was gonna go do some fishing, pick berries for a bit. Fishing’s better with two.”
“Fish?” I perked up. “I would love fish…I come from a fishing village, so it’s seafood all the time, but here it’s just meat meat meat and more meat.”
He laughs, a deep mirthful sound. “Well find you a rainbow trout to match your bracelet.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Let me just go tell my host family I’m going to go explore for a bit.”
“Sure,” he grins, a cocky smile. “Be right here.”

We kept busy; he took me out on a small boat, we fished, and we cooked them. We drank American beer, swam, and played horseshoes. His parents asked me so many questions about Indonesia. The thing I remember most about that day though was the firework show after dusk. James and I had gone off together to a little secret spot by the lake. We put down a towel. I had a beautiful view of every single explosion, as I was on my back, losing my virginity to a man I’d met that morning. I had a feeling it was the most American thing I’d done all day.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

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When I walk back up into the suite half an hour later, he’s still there, still bare, still waiting patiently. He might—he just might—have shifted slightly when he heard me in the doorway, but not enough that I could tell.

“I checked out the convention center," I say slowly, carefully, waiting to see how he responds. “I think I must have forgot my razor, though, so I’m going to run out and pick one up.” Nothing.

I shouldn’t have expected anything—a twitch of the ass, a plaintive little roll of the hips, an even more plaintive whimper or whine—but even though he’s better than that, past that, I’m still a bit surprised; I had him so close, for so long, before I went down for my first pass at the exhibition hall. I walk over to the bed, and there’s a moment of drawn out silence before I rest my hand on his ass; when I do, his skin’s hot, searing, even in the over-conditioned hotel air. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move, so I move my hand, sliding my fingers across his skin and into his dark cleft. The very tip of my middle finger just grazes his hole, and I can feel the tight ring of muscle twitch against it; he can’t help that, though, and the rest of him remains impassive—un-passioned, but long-suffering. When I talk again, it’s not at all like I’m just one quick shove away from fingering him. “Do you need anything while I’m out?”

"No,” he says. “I’m fine.”

So I push my finger in, hard. There’s no lube, of course, and I can feel his ass catch at my finger and then clench at it in protest as I slide in. I can feel his body shake, and this time, my voice isn’t measured, guarded; there’s a smile in it. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t need anything?” I twist my finger in further, turn it to press unrelentingly up against the hard knot of his prostate. “Anything at all you really, really need?” He drops his head just as quickly as the clear spurt of precum drops down from his dick onto the bedspread. 

“Yes,” he chokes out. “I need"—and he says this through gritted teeth, and my heart and my dick both swell at the thought of having won—"socks. Black. One pair.”

I pull my finger out, swat his ass. Part of me wanted to hear him break, hear him answer with “a long, hard dicking, sir.” That’s the part me that’s ready to go again even after the check-in blowjob he gave me, the part that wants so badly to be buried immediately inside him, the part that’s anxious to be able to say that he’s now given it up in Pittsburgh, too. But the bigger part of me—well, bigger in terms of judgement and magnanimity; the other part is currently clocking in at a solid 8” and straining across my thigh—is so fucking proud of him, too. 

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by ccallenreese

Mitchel came to the gym quite late at night, much later than he normally did. Overslept that morning, couldn’t come till after dinner. He was pleasantly surprised to find a cocksucker on his knees servicing the men in the locker room. It was too hot in there, so Mitchel took the boy out to a corner of the gym and gave him his cock. He always got a raging boner after a great session at the gym, so he was more than willing to let the cocksucker have at it. Mitchel felt a hand rubbing his asscheek, squeezing hard. This boy clearly went into heat at the sight of naked, buff men and went to the source to worship them.

Mitchel felt it would be rude to deny him his erection when he was clearly so gifted at sucking and so at home on his knees.

He later found out that the cocksucker was there three or four nights a week, and a couple rich gym rats paid for his bills and STD checks. Mitchel never went to the gym early again and soon he too was investing in that boy.

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Text is fictional. Source is watermarked.

PSA: Last day I’m advertising selling some writing for bill money~

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Andrew sighed and cursed under his breath as he examined his racket. “Broken string, I need a break.”

It was just a local tennis match between two regional teams, but a small crowd had populated the stands. They began to murmur as the announcer called for an interruption. Andrew’s tennis partner was happy for a water break.

However, repairing the racket took longer than Andrew thought. The crowd began to get restless, so the ball boy decided to take matters into his own hands. He’d gotten the job of fetching errant tennis balls and cleaning up the locker room from a friend of a friend, and he thrived in it – he liked being useful and getting recognized for it. Joseph didn’t know what a houseboy was, or a faggot, what BDSM was, or any of those fancy words. What he did know was that he had a massive crush on Andrew and wanted him to know he existed.

Joseph walked out to the court. He took off his shirt first – which got a lot of applause from the ladies – and then his shorts, which got whistles. He tried not to blush. The jockstrap didn’t hide much. By now the crowd had gone quiet and were watching him. Joseph put his hands down on the court and brought himself up to a handstand. He used to be a gymnast, and although he stopped in college, he hadn’t stopped going to the gym and was still in top shape. For the next fifteen minutes, he entertained the crowd with impressive handstands, splits, balancing tricks, and standing backflips.

After nailing one of those, Andrew walked over and swatted him playfully on the ass with his fixed racket. An announcer stated the game would commence. Andrew held up Joshua’s hand and he got a standing ovation for saving the day. Joshua was trying not to freak out that Andrew was actually touching him, acknowledging him! He flushed under the recognition from the audience. He nearly fainted though when Andrew whispered in his ear, “I hope to see you in the locker room later.”

Joshua was floating on Cloud 9 for the rest of the match. When he got to blow Andrew in the shower later, he was convinced he’d died and gone to heaven. By the end of the season, Joshua was following Andrew around like a loyal dog and was happy as a lark.

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Text is fictional. Source is unknown.