Tag: dat body

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK!”
I clutch my sides, unable to stop laughing. “Pup! Brodie! Brodie! Seriously. Come here! you are never going to catch that seagull.”
He looks at me and whines, then puts his head down on his paws and wiggles his butt.
The seagull watches him with one beady eye from up on the fence, its beak clamped around a bag of barbeque potato chips.
“BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK!”
“Brodie!” I wheeze. I have to sit down.

The seagull hops to another fencepost. Brodie inches forward, muscles tense with energy. I watch from the sand as Brodie creeps up underneath the gull, more of a cat than a dog. The gull doesn’t seem interested in Brodie and gazes over the beach, as if trying to figure out where he eats the prize.

I’m holding my breath, watching Brodie seek his prey. Closer. Closer. After a few long moments, Brodie was directly under the gull. Slowly, slowly, slowly, my pup reaches up. We’re both holding our breathes. The gull could take flight at any moment. I’m silently cheering for my pup.

Then – Brodie makes a move. Like a lizard’s tongue, his fingers shoot out and grab the chip bag right out of the seagull’s beak. The seagull squawks and jumps, then looks around as if trying to figure out what just happened. Brodie looks at the chip bag in his hand in shock, then looks at me. My jaw is on the ground. I then whoop and punch a fist into the air. Brodie puts the chip bag into his mouth and begins to bounce up and down on his paws, woof-ing his head off.

People are staring at us now. Brodie puts his paws on the fence and shakes it under the gull flies away, and my pup gives it a loud farewell.

Satisfied, my pup trots over and puts the chip bag in my lap. I scritch him all over, then he headbutts me. I open the chip bag and feed him one. Brodie scarfs it down and licks my fingers.

“Alright, let’s go finish eating our lunch ok, boy?”
Brodie wiggles his butt, forgetting he’s not wearing his tail. “Arf arf!”

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Text is fictional. Puppy butt :3

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“What are you thinking, Jessup? You’re always so quiet.”
“Cause I’m listening.”
“What are you listening to? The shower?”
“You. Your breathing. The way the water splashes off your skin, the sound of the loofah as you wash me..”
“Are you enjoying it?” I ask.
“Mmm very much. It’s so hard to find a lover, with me as I am, and I’m sort of wondering if I”m dreaming sometimes, having such a great guy like you in my life. In my shower.”
I chuff through my nose. “You shouldn’t put yourself down in that way. I look for a few things in my partner, and the biggest one is personality.”
Jessup grins. “Are you sure the biggest isn’t the cock?”
“I thought that was why you liked me?” I pretend to be offended.
Jessup laughs.

“Hey…Jason.”
“Hm?” I inquire.
“…Would you do something for me?” Jessup asks, putting the loofah back on the hook.
“Anything.”
“Take control.”
“…Are you sure? But you hate being caught off guard.”
“Jason please,” he begs. “Everyone is so delicate with me because I’m nearly blind. I’ve retorted by being as picky as possible. I’ve never given control to anyone. I want to know what it’s like. Be rough with me. Ravish me.”
“Christ, it’s turning me on hearing you beg.”
“Do it,” he growls.
I take a step back and examine my Jessup. He loves to work out, and it’s carved these delicious lines and rolling waves of muscle into the canvas that is his body. A strong illiac crest slides downward to the impressive, veiny cock jutting out. It’s a shame he can’t see his package because the set is damn gorgeous. And it is mine for the taking.
“….Jason?” he says quietly.
I push him back against the wall. Jessup gasps in surprise as he is jostled, then again as his back hits the cold wet tile. Before he can get out the second half of “more”, I’ve pounced on him, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. Our lips meet and duel, and then I slip my tongue. Jessup’s hands seek my body and I press my palms into his torso, helping myself to a handful of his pecs. How can they so firm, yet so soft? I suddenly get why straight guys like tits.
I pin his arm against the wall, and when I move his limbs as I like, Jessup giggles; he’s giddy. His hand finds my waist and he pulls me against him. Our half-hard cocks meet and Jessup arches up. I can feel a moan thrumming in his throat as I kiss him, relentlessly.
“Fuck yeah, more, Jessup more!” he asks, breathy and hopeful.
Our lips meet again and again. I pin him in place with my hips and my grip. We rock together until our cocks are stiff as wood and sharing heat by sliding against each-other. The warm water slides down my back and gurgles down the drain.

I reach back with my free hand that’s not pinning his arm back and seek his ass. I squeeze it hard enough to make him shout.
“This is turning you on,” I purr.
“More Jason!”
“I do think you have a date with my bag of ropes later…”
He shudders and pre-cum dribbles down his shaft. I swipe it with my finger and taste it, then reach behind Jessup again and stroke his hole which I just cleaned.
Jessup whimpers and clings to me. “Jesus, Jason, no one’s ever made me feel like this.”
“I’m happy you thrust me.”
“…Did you just say ‘thrust’ instead of trust?”
Jessup quiets and stills, then his body vibrates with laughter. It’s contaigous and soon we’re bent over in hysterics.

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Sex TBC. Text is fictional. I actually wrote “thrust me” instead of trust me and just went with it. These hotties are from Sean Cody, naturally.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“Now, punishing you for having a small cock would be silly, especially since it’s something you have on control over. I mean, the Romans would have thought you were the hottest thing since olive oil. Me however, I get annoyed having to look at such a tiny useless little nub attached to your gorgeous lean body. It doesn’t even grown when you get hard! It’s like it forgot how to be a dick. Well, we’re gonna fix the confusion around here and lock it up. You won’t fit in a cock cage boy, so it’s gonna be more like a cap. A pretty little metal thing, That way, you’ll exactly when you’re horny because you’ll be dripping everywhere. And that’s when I’ll get out the vibrator, boy…you know nothing of its delicious torment yet.”

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Text is fictional.

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“Good lord, he’s struggling to get out. He’s nearly frothing at the mouth.”
“It’s kind of entertaining isn’t it? He’s stuck. All he’s doing is exhausting himself, which does us more of a favor.”
“Indeed. Justice is pretty delicious. Are you sure it’s him?”
“Absolutely. The tattoo on his shoulder doesn’t lie.” I point to it.
“Oh, indeed. That’s the one on the flier the neighborhood watch put in our mailbox. Have you called the police?”
“Not yet. I’m enjoying letting our little thief realize how fucked he is,” I chuckle. “He’s hit his last house, I’ll say.”
My partner yawns. “Indeed. Did you hear him come in, love? I didn’t hear anything.” 
“Oh, our pup woke me up. He’s gonna get a big steak in the morning.”
“Lucky pup! ..Say, where are his clothes?”
“Oh, in that bag over there. You know, for evidence. I suppose I should go call the cops now, I want to get some more sleep in.”
“Mnn you do that love. I’m going back to bed. See you there.”
I give him a kiss on the cheek. “Sleep well, sweetheart.”

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Text is fictional. Watermarked.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“Dear Sir, I want to be your sub because… well you’re fucking hot, and I have always thought I was the hottest blond bitch ever, especially with my sick tattoos.

And then I met you, Mr. Sex on Legs, this walking tribute to god-like masculinity and sexuality. I knew at that point, I would never be on your level, and my entire post-puberty existence has been based on striving so hard to be like how you are when you do nothing.
Everyone respects you, admires you, you make so many friends, you’ve networked your way to success… what are your secrets? I know I can learn a lot from you, because if not, I’ll be jealous of you my whole life. And I don’t want to be just a hot fuck …ok I really want that, I want you to fuck me six ways from Sunday and then all the way back, but I don’t want to be just another catch you toss back. You can offer me a lot. Improve me. Sculpt me. Teach me to be a man. I like being a boy, but I have to grow up sometime.

It’s not right that I still prefer Lucky Charms for breakfast and like to play kick-ball and my favorite TV show is The Angry Beavers. I’m scared to try new things. You like sushi and True Detective and sea kayaking, and I wanna try that stuff too. You can show me how to put on my big boy jockstraps; show me what it means to “fly” when you get a spanking; show me how denial can be really hot.

I feel like I’m not living up to the full potential of what I can do with my cock or my ass.

Please teach me. Educate me. Train me. Milk me. Humiliate me. Improve me. Keep me out of the pantry at 3 am. Make me to go the gym.
Make me into a new me.

Love,

Kenny

Kenny glanced at the notebook. He screwed up his perfect button nose. “No no no…” he tore it out and crumpled it. He tossed it over his shoulder into the pile and started over. Before the pen could touch paper again, Kenny heard a noise behind him. He looked over his shoulder and realized that the ball of paper had bounced off Julian’s shoe. He gulped. “Sorry, Jules, I’ll get that.” Kenny leaned over to snatch it, but Julian picked it up before he could.

“Working on your writing assignment?” Julian asked.
“Yeah – but – that’s trash, please don’t! Oh god don’t read that,” he begged.
Julian opened the paper ball and read it, while Kenny blushed and groaned on the floor. “I’m sorry, it’s terrible, so please stop reading.”
A smile began to widen on Julian’s face. “Kenny, this is amazing.”
“I know, I’m sorry I…wait, what?”
“This is adorable. Also, sexy as hell that you think this about me.” Julian held up the paper. “This is exactly what I wanted. An earnest, honest, essay about why you want me to be your Dom. I didn’t want some college level paper.

Kenny turned a furious shade of red. “Shit, I’m so embarassed”
“And we are going to fix that.”
Kenny blinked. “You’re accepting me?”
Julian gently folded the letter was if it were a precious document and tucked it into his shirt pocket. “Yes. You have passed the first step.”
Kenny set aside the notebook. He sprung up and wrapped his arms around his fuck-buddy turned boyfriend, and they shared a kiss. “Thank you, thank you so much.”
Julian ruffled his hair. “Alright, hottest blond bitch ever. First assignment is to clean up your paper mess. Second is to clean your room. Then…if you do a good job, maybe we talk contracts; and maybe we can practice standing, resting commands, and walking positions after dinner.“
“Ooo. I’d like that reward Sir. On it!”
Julian watched Kenny clean up the paper vigorously and then run off to tidy his room. Kenny had been a one night stand that had evolved into something much more. It was gonna be fun reigning him in.

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Text is fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Swipe. Swipe. Swipe. Ugh every guy on Grindr I’ve already banged already, or they’re my best friend, or they’re ‘swole and not into fems’. What losers. Femmy boys are some of the nicest people. Oh, ugh, swipe. Swipe. S.. woah. Who is that? Hey that’s Jason, my old lacrosse buddy from high school in the background of this shot. Holy shit, does that mean this guy is his brother David?? Oh my god, that can’t be him – the David in this photo is fucking hot as hell. DavId was this skinny dude with a squeaky voice and terrible acne, and he was always dating this crazy weeaboo. Oh my goood I could wash my clothing on his abs. Damn those arms! Bitch is on proteeeein. I bet he could fucking bench me now! Shit, I kind of want him to. I’mma say hi.

Me: So not dating Weaboo Kate anymore huh?
David: …Who is this?
Me: Don’t recognize me? This Eli Burkhart, but everyone called me Burkie.
David: ….oh my god. I didn’t recognize you with short hair. You were the captain of the Lacrosse team Jason was on. Your best friend put my head in the toilet.  
Me: Oh shit. I’m so sorry about that. I haven’t hung out with RJ in years. He was an asshole. 
David: …Thanks, actually. Makes me feel better. What are you doing on Grindr?
Me: Looking for cute boys, what else? Why do you think I was on the lacrosse team anyway lol. 
David: Hard to believe your gay.
Me: ME? What about you? My jaw fell off when I saw your photos. What happened to the old David?
David: I shed him a long time ago. In my freshman year of college, I discovered I had a hormone imbalance and I got into fitness. Still nervous about getting out there and meeting guys though. 
Me: …Please don’t make me beg to take you out for coffee.
David: I might be 26 now, but hey I’m still flattered that the captain of the lacrosse team wants to take me out for coffee hahah.
Me: =D Urth Caffe, Thursday, 9 pm?
David: Can we do 8? I have an early class the next morning.
Me: Sure sweetheart. Bring your yearbook. We’re gonna have a blast.
David: Ahha omg I bet.

David woke up Friday, late for class, and naked in Burkie’s bed. There was a used condom in the trash and there was cum all over his stomach. The night before was a blur of humping and petting and fingering – poor David was too tight for Eli to get in – but still, as David roused to consciousness, he couldn’t remember feeling more satisfied or content. He smiled at Eli’s sleeping form and said a small confession.
“Thanks for giving me a chance, buddy. I used to watch you play lacrosse from the bleachers, and everyone used to think I was there for Jason…can’t believe this fantasy has become real. I hope we turn out to be something special.”

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Text is fictional.

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Sometimes he comes to me, pouting, arms out, needing comfort. I don’t always ask, just sometimes he feels these pangs of self doubt that he can’t handle the big scary world out there, and then he comes running to me for a hug. He’s kind of a big puppy. Scared of his own shadow. Take a submissive bottom boy, drop it down three levels, and you’ll find him.

“There, there,” I say, pulling him against me, one hand curved around his side. “I’m here.” I will usually push down his underwear a little – he doesn’t wear much clothing around the house – and give his ass a reaffirming squeeze.

I always start with his ass. It’s where I make love to him and claim him. It’s the heart of his sexuality – not his cock. His cock is secondary. He needs to know that I’m not tired of him, that I still find him hot and sexy, and giving that soft bubbly butt a big squeeze confirms that I still think about sinking my teeth into it every time I see it. I run my palm up the sweeping curve of his spin, murmuring comments in his ear about how silky his skin is, how floral his scent. I keep him close to me, always reassuring him with both hands.

He presses his soft cock against my leg and buries his face in my neck. “Are you sure you really want me? And not some skinny, muscular twink?”
I scoff. “Are you crazy? I have you! I love you and your body, every supple piece of it. I like you a bit tender and soft, because it makes you a delight to cuddle with. Ever cuddle with a guy whose bodyfat is 1%? It’s like cuddling with a surfboard.”
This makes him giggle, and I know he’s just bluffing. He just wants the praise. I reach back down and massage one globe of his buttocks with one hand. He moans against my shirt collar.
“I love men,” I clarify, “When I see you, I see an embodiment of every male characteristic I like, and I want. Your adorable personality is the cherry on top.”
“Even though my cock is small?” he asks, unsure.
“You have a cock. That’s my requirement. And even though it might be small, it’s still a good toy.” I drop my voice to a husky purr and whisper in his ear. “There’s plenty there to touch…and stroke…and edge… you have a fat cockhead and you love it when I rub that sensitive skin with my fingertips don’t you?”
He shudders against me. “Oh Papi,” he says with a sigh. “You really know how to make a boy feel special.”
I kiss his ear. “That’s cause you are. You are my boy.”
“Mm I love being your boy. Squeeze my ass again?”
I do so.
“Mmnnn~” he coos. “I love feeling your strong hands on me. Makes me feel so safe.”
“Why don’t we go into the bedroom and I squeeze you all over, work your body inside and out?”
“A massage?”
“Yes, boy.”
He smiles at me. “Because I am your special boy?”
“Because I love you, and I like doing things for the boy I love.” I kiss him.
He pushes back and I gift him with more kisses. I give, he takes, until his lips are puffy and tingling.
“Woah, Papi,” he breathes.
I grin. “That’s the lip massage. Come on.” I take a handful of his ass again. “Let’s go upstairs and do the rest of you.”
He follows me up the stairs, fingers squeezing mine.

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Text is fictional. This is Topher DiMaggio fucking Paddy O’Brian.

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I woke up to an empty bed, a bit annoyed because I intended to have a good cuddle before breakfast. Visions of passionate coupling, edging, and kissing filled my head. It was just “great sex” for a while until I discovered he spoke some foreign language and whispered the dirtiest things in my ears. I shot a huge load, then a second and a third after long sessions of edging and knob polishing. My cockhead was still sensitive, but I felt refreshed, light as a feather even. My balls felt light as balloons. 

But where was my one-night stand? It was barely past dawn! Had he left? I bolted out bed and jogged through the house. What I saw in the kitchen stopped me in my tracks. There he was, bathed in the golden morning sun. Every skin cell in his tanned, gym sculpted body seemed to glow from the inside out. He was leaning casually against my counter, providing a beautiful silhouette of his pillowy pecs, protruding posterior, and um… wow. Tighty whities do not hide a thing, and his cock looked full and impressive tucked away safe and clean in his underwear. I was instantly jealous of the cotton. The man was an impossible ode to physical perfect and male beauty. Even his day-after scruff is flawless! I gave one of those dreamy, Disney sighs.

I began to wonder what liquid courage I drank last night that made me go up and talk to this guy. He was out of my league. BEYOND out of my league. Out of my orbit. …Shit, what was his name?

“Good morning,” I purred as I strode into the kitchen.
He turned his head and a smile crinkled his eyes. “Oh you’re up. Did I wake up?”
“I woke up cause my bed was empty.” I caressed his shoulder, then kissed it.
“I’m sorry. I was utterly gross, and I didn’t want you to see me unshowered. I was worried I’d wake you if I got back into bed.” He folded the paper and set it on the counter.
“Quite alright. You’re still here. I’m glad you stayed.”
He gave me a gentle kiss. I wished I brushed my teeth.
The stranger raised a thick eyebrow at me. “You’re not gonna kick me out? Most of my one night stands don’t like reminders of their inhibitions standing around..”
I scoffed. “Well they’re fools.” I pulled open my cabinets and my fridge, looking for things. I had no idea what I was making yet, but I was definitely cooking this man breakfast.
“Fools?” he repeated with a smile.
“Well…well yes,” I stammer. I never wanted to cook breakfast for any man before, and it wasn’t just in thanks. Something about his presence made me feel like I had to serve him, that I wanted his respect and appreciation. Maybe it was because of my low-esteem but Christ, I wanted him to validate me to eternity and back. “That was easily the best sex of my life last night,” I admitted. “I thought it was great by itself, and then you start speaking in this language and holy god that turned me on so bad. I feel so fucking energized this morning. Hell it wasn’t sex, it was some sort of cleansing ritual.”

“Oh god stop,” he groaned with a chuckle. “I’m so embarrassed. And you’re being way too kind.”
“Pft!” I replied, putting pans on the stove. “I don’t know what planet you grew up on, but when a drop-dead gorgeous man gives you the best dicking of your life, you want him to stay for breakfast. …You will stay right?”
He perked up and rubbed my hip with his hand. “You’re realy going to cook for me?”
I realized I should really have asked what this walking statue was called. “If you tell me what your name is,” I said sheepishly, “Because I don’t think it’s ‘oh god’.”
The man laughed again, a hearty, healthy sound. I was smitten. “We kind of skipped that formality hm? My name is Avid, like David without the D.”
He pronounced it, “ah-veed”. It sounded plenty exotic. “What nationality is that?”
“Persian. That was Farsi I was speaking in.”
“Farsi? Well, you are welcome to teach me some of that.”
Avid’s eyes seemed to sparkle when he looked at me. “Just might do that. And you are…?”
I set the bag of flour on the counter. “Oh! Right, sorry. Name’s Hank, which I don’t really like, so most everyone calls me Mitch, after my middle name, Michael.”
“Why not Michael?” Avid inquired.
“It’s my dad’s name. Gets confusing.”
“You Americans have so many names! Like some sort of spy.”

I chuckled, then moved onto cracking eggs into a bowl.
“Are you really making me breakfast…?” Avid asked, coming up behind me and wrapping his hands around my waist.
“Yes, I am.”
Avid reached up and began to twirl his fingers in the curls at the base of my neck. My knees felt weak. “You really know how to take care of a man.”
I sat up a little straighter at the praise. “I…like to think so.”
“I like that,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. “You Americans eat dessert after breakfast?”
”
“In this household we do.”
Avid made a noise of satisfaction. He smacked my butt. I yelped. “Make a big breakfast. You’re gonna need the calories.” He said. My dick began to harden.

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Text is fictional. This is Pablo Hernandez.