“Hey… hey…HEY! Hey you can stop dancing now.”
“I can?”
“Yeah, you got the job. You look kinda thick but you got some serious hip talent.”
“Ok wow. Fantastic thanks. I’ll uh – call you, about scheduling, and um. Stuff.”
“Yes, call tomorrow, we’ll know more then.”
“Thank you. IIIIII~I’m going to go over there and freak out and be fabulous.”
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Text is fictional. This is Alex Pettyfer from Magic Mike.
It’s too hot to write, so have this instead.
When Billy came into the door, I saw in his face that something had upset him. His shoulders and posture were sagging and his eyes were red.
“Honey what’s wrong?” I put down my newspaper.
“James, some mean boys bullied me on the way to the train station.”
“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry.” I stood up and pulled him into a hug. Billy clung to me, pressing his lithe body up against my more substantial one. I removed his stylish hat and tossed it into the sofa. Underneath his cardigan, I could feel him trembling. “They called me a faggot, and said I looked like a queer, I should get hit by a train.”
I tensed and released a slow breath, seething. “I’m going to pick you up from work tomorrow, and you’re gonna start carrying mace. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“They scared me,” Billy admitted, his voice cracking.
“Ssh shh…I won’t let them lay a finger on you. They don’t deserve you.”
I sensed the hug wasn’t reaching him. “Here, I think this will help.” I gently pried Billy off, and began to remove my clothes. He watched me, curious, and did not protest when I helped him peel off his sweater and began to work the buttons on his shirt. It wasn’t sexual, we just casually removed our clothing piece by piece until it was in a pile on the sofa next to the hat. I wrapped my arms around him again and Billy eagerly reciprocated, pushing himself close against me to get his slim arms around my barrel torso. I felt fingers dig into my buttocks and his small member press against my thigh.
I held and rocked him, uttering soothing words. Billy hiccuped and spilled a few tears, dispersing them by nuzzling my shoulder. I was hoping that skin to skin contact would help calm him. Billy was a small man, and I wanted to be his big, strong rock. As long as I was around, he should feel safe and secure and grounded. After a few minutes of bonding, the trembling faded, his breathing slowed. I kissed the top of his head and he snuggled against the pelt of hair on my chest.
Billy worked at an art gallery downtown. I’d gone there to buy a piece for my living room and ended up leaving with a painting and his phone number. He was intimidated by me at first, but soon realized he got a rush out of being dominated and overpowered in the bedroom. It had taken some practice for him to accept a cock of my size. I in turn, became madly aroused at seeing it disappear into his small arse. I felt that would come later; sex would help him sleep the night. He wasn’t even hard now.
“Are you alright?” I asked, gently.
“Mmnnnn,” he replied back. “I like feeling all of you against me, and the sound of your heart beating. It was all fast before, but it’s slow now.”
“Because those men made me angry. Just – how dare they! What business of theirs is it who you are?”
“I think they’re scared of me,” Billy said.
“Scared?” I repeated.
“Yes… they’re scared that I walk with my head up and am not afraid to be who I am. They don’t understand it, they don’t understand me. They certainly don’t appreciate my excellent fashion sense either. So, they get scared and try to mask it by being mean.”
“Hm. In a way I guess that makes sense. We’ll have to confront of them sometime though.”
Billy sighed. “I don’t want to think about this anymore. I want to think about my naked boyfriend.”
I chuckle. “That is a good thought to be having.”
“Can I cook you dinner like this? Naked?”
“Naked?” I raised an eyebrow. “Well I can’t guarantee you won’t make it to dinner without me getting my hands on you.”
Billy looked up at me with a cheeky little smile on his face. “Well, we’ll see how long you last.”
I raise an eyebrow and squeeze his butt before he slips away, scampering off to the fridge with his cock bouncing between his legs. I mourn the loss of his body heat immediately, but I am mostly relieved that my Billy has recovered. The cruelty of the world outside the walls of our home can wait to be dealt with another day. I watch Billy bend over to peer into the fridge. I sigh. It’s ridiculous how much I am in love with him.
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Text is fictional. Source unknown.
I step into the library to return my completed book and replace it with a new one for my beach-side reading. I hear a sigh and walk toward the back of the crisp, modern styled library, seeking the owner of the sound. I find the houseboy back there, glancing forlornly out the window. He doesn’t notice me at first; my leather soled shoes make little noise on the floor. The natural sunlight illuminates his skin, basking his attractive form in a healthy glow. He is a sight – a slender neck emerging from the sharp lines of his collar bone, gently rolling pecs float above the valley of his lined abs. His skin is so taut, his health and vigor so evident, that there is hardly an ounce of fat on him from hard work and I can see grand veins running under his flesh.
His balls are generous and full, and his cock is soft and hidden but the perfect length for his form. He’s as if a painting come to life. I make the usual noises of putting a book away and he twists his head to look at me. He seems a bit surprised to see me.
“Are you waiting for your Master to return, lad?”
“Yes sir,” he says, his voice wistful. “I miss him.”
“He shall return from visiting his sister within the hour, do not fret.”
The houseboy nods, but not satisfied. “I hope you have enjoyed your stay here, Sir, and weren’t inconvenienced by his sudden departure two days ago.”
“How could I not enjoy my stay here? I got a week off from that stuffy law office to stay with an old, dear friend at his manor by the beach and be attended to by the most beautiful nude boys. There is nary an inconvenience there. Babies come when they want to come, it isn’t your Master’s fault your sister delivered this weekend.”
The houseboy looks a bit relieved. “Thank you Sir for saying so. Yes, the baby was due last week, but they don’t mind anyone’s schedule but their own.”
“Indeed.” I rifle through the bookcases. “Oh Yukio Mishima…an eccentric, but a great author.” I select The Sound of the Sea and flip through it. When I glance up, I see the houseboy has returned to staring out the window once more.
“Lad,” I say gently, “Perhaps you need a distraction? Come to the beach with me.”
“I …” he begins. “I would like to, but if I am not here to greet my Master upon his return he will be cross with me.”
“Mm, well perhaps we can go there after lunch. Would you like me to suck you? Perhaps it’ll help you relax?”
The boy thought a moment. “Master said I am to please his guest while he is gone. It would please you?”
“Yes, you in any fashion would.”
The houseboy lowers his gaze to the bulge in my trousers, then to the floor. “My Master will also been in need of proper release after two days away too Sir, and I want to offer him a hole that has not been spoiled in his absence.”
“Then just a suck then,” I say with a reassuring smile. The houseboy looks content with our compromise.
The boy turns around and put his palms on the windowsill. I set my book on a shelf and kneel between his legs. His cock is soft, but warm and clean-scented. I take him between my lips – a perfect mouthful – and he gasps softly at the sensation of my tongue on him. I make a suction lock and bob my head, encouraging it to stiffen. Through my lips, I feel the throb of his awakened veins as blood rushes to his sex organs. I cup his pouch below and roll them between my fingers. His cock swells, filling my mouth from cheek to cheek and challenging my jaw.
The pink knob soon pushes out of his foreskin and strains, dripping seed against my tongue. Each little taste of the houseboy’s salty fluid makes my own cock ache in my trousers. I reach down with one hand to massage it until I fear I will spend in my pants; I unbutton myself and let the erect thing spring up into the air. I moan and began to stroke myself as I nurse the houseboy’s upright cock. His lids are half-closed, his lower lip quivers. The houseboy’s testicles are full and low. He is in much need of a proper fuck, but that is not part of my role as a guest in this house. I wonder if I would be allowed to watch that.
I sense his body spasming and the boy whimpers. “I feel I will cum soon, you are too skilled with your tongue!”
I answer him by pushing the tip of it into the slit and swirling it about; the houseboy’s knees buckle and I catch him by pushing upwards on his shins. He regains his posture and tosses back his head. I suck deeply and quickly, one hand on myself, the other making a circular path with my fingertips around his shaft, down to his balls, then back around to stroke any skin I can find.
The houseboy keens and his thighs tense; he cries out an ‘Oh sweet fuck!“ and his balls hitch high. I consume all his seed, feasting on his modest cock as he shoots against my throat. He is pent up. I do not fuss that I have spoiled his appetite for when his Master calls; in fact, I am even more sure now that I have taken off the edge and so he will be virile and patient for longer service when taken into bed.
When his organ begins to soften, I suckle and clean it with patience. It is no chore, and it would be disrespectful to leave another man’s property sullied. As he vocalizes and twitches in my grip, I dedicate a moment to pump my own aching organ. The climax swells over me in an instant and my hot seed splashes on the floor and on the house boy’s feet. I groan around his organ, lost in the pinnacle of masturbation. He grows too sensitive and begins to squirm; I nuzzle his balls and tug on myself, allowing the afterglow to settle and evaporate. There is no sound but for the houseboy’s soft panting.
After a moment, I pull away from the houseboy completely. I can almost see the the tension and anticipation melt off his shoulders. I leave my flaccid cock out, then signal for "one moment” before leaving the library to find a bathroom. When I return with a damp cloth, I find the houseboy perched halfway on the windowsill, head titled back against the window glass. His eyes are closed. When he hears my footfalls, he opens his eyes.
He motions to take the cloth away from me, but I give him a “tut” and hold it out of reach. This is my fun. I wrap his genitals in the warm terry cloth and clean them. He seems to enjoy this as much as I do. After I clean my own, I fold the towel anew and gently wipe his feet. It is a bit scandalous to be cleaning a houseboy’s feet, but I find the act a bit erotic. After the task is done, I give him a little kiss, tuck my book under my arm, and hold the towel at a distance. “Thank you for the suck, boy. You are most enjoyable. I hope to see you on the beach later.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hartman. It was immensely pleasurable.” He is still flushed. I must walk away or I will lose my will to resist fucking him. I nod, but as I turn away, the houseboy makes a sharp turn toward the window.
“It’s him! My Master is home! Oh I must go greet him at once. Thank you Mr. Hartman, the distraction did the trick. Please excuse me."
I nod, dismissing him.
He flashes me a happy smile and jogs off, and I’m momentarily struck still by his bliss. It’s always wonderful and heart-warming to see a boy in service so enamored with his keeper.
I do not bother them. I return to my room and pick up my bag, then go to the beach a short walk from the manor. I lay out a towel and enjoy my book. About an hour later, Master Dunn and his houseboy come and join me, carrying a picnic basket and pale ale. The houseboy has fresh lovebites and there are red marks on his hips. I’m sure if I parted the globes of his ass, I would find a hole pink and wet and open from being fucked. The ocean will wash him clean.
We dine and snack. Master Dunn discusses in length his new nephew and his status as an uncle. The topic soon changes to more domestic matters. We tidy up the spread and prepare for a swim. Just as I am removing my clothes, Master Dunn speaks up. "Glen, I have an inquiry for you.”
“Yes?” I ask.
“After dinner tonight, would you be interested in coming to my room? My houseboy says you were a wonderful companion while I was gone, and I feel as if I must reward you. I hate to know my boy is lonely. You must join us, or at least watch as I take him. It would be rude other wise.”
Glen felt a stir in his loins. “I did not do anything unique, but make sure the houseboy had a guest to serve and work to do. He is a fine boy and so easy on the eyes. I would hate to insert my horny self between your intimate relationship, but I will certainty watch. Not often does one receive an invitation to watch a houseboy writhe under his Master. I would find it to be most exciting.”
A dark look of lust and satisfaction shows on Master Dunn’s face. “Oh, he excites me a good deal.”
The houseboy blushes.
Master Dunn clears his throat and reveals a bit of a smirk. “That will be for later, though. I must take a swim first or my cock will harden even more.”
I grin. “Oh, I do feel the same way. I want to save my seed for when I can watch. I want to last for hours.”
_______________________________________________________
Text is fictional. Model is Dominick Juneau, photographed by Adam Webster.
===delete below if reblogging====
I hadn’t meant to post this when I did – I never post between 4-5 am PST. However, somehow when I went to reblog this hours ago, I somehow managed to highlight a different frame and the reblog button was inaccessible. I was dicking around with deselect keyboard shortcuts and it magically reblogged! It took me seven hours to fix this, so yaaaay. I was reading this rather bizarrely-worded collection of Victorian-themed short stories involving gay sex, and they inspired this. Nice that it got saved.
Master Hendricks had taken his pup to the city to get him Lasik eye surgery for his 25th birthday. The boy had vision so terrible that without strong corrective lenses he was borderline blind. The boy was nervous yet excited about the trip into the city and upcoming surgery, and pup mode let him work out his anxiety by being playful and goofy. To Master Hendrick’s relief, his sub kepts down his food and made it through the ordeal without great panic.
After the operation was done, the doctor said the boy had to wear dark lenses to prevent hurting his eyes. The pup didn’t mind. He was amazed at the results and spent a good long while just sitting on the bed and staring at the city scape below with slack jaw. So much detail!
Master Hendricks thought he looked hilarious, on all fours, butt naked but for a pair of shades, so deep in concentration. It was like Cocky Boys had reshot Risky Business for the porno market or something. Master Hendricks began to chuckle and couldn’t stop. When his pup looked at him and tilted his head as if to say ’baroo?’, it made him laugh even harder. “Oh puppy, hold still I’m going to take your picture – I want to remember this for when I’m having a bad day.”
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Text is fictional. Boy unknown.
“Ken? Ken? Did you leave?”
Ken sticks his red head out of the bedroom. “No I’m right here. What’s up?”
“Oh it was quiet, I thought you left….”
“Nope, I wouldn’t leave without telling you. How do you feel?”
“Sore. Like shit. The icepack is helping though.”
Ken perks up. “Good! I’ll be in a minute with lunch. I found some cookie cutters in your kitchen so your sandwich is gonna be fun dino shapes! Yay!” he said with embellished enthusiasm to make his friend laugh, and he got the response he wanted.
“I’m 34, too old for dinos, Ken.”
“No you’re not. You’re also not too old for mac and cheese and apple bunnies.”
“…What’s an apple bunny?”
“You’ll see,” he said with a little smile. Ken moved to duck out of the room, but Jack felt a bolt of panic when he did.
“Ken wait wait.”
“What?”
“…Do you um, think I’m less of a man because I only got one ball now?”
It was a funny question, but Ken didn’t laugh. His face furrowed in question because Jack looked so distraught. “When you told me you had a lump, and it might be cancer, all the color went out of the room. You’ve been my best friend since you saved me from that bully in 7th grade. I don’t know how to live without you.”
“Aww shit, Ken, thanks, really.”
“You still have your cock. Plus, God put our balls outside our body in a soft squishy sac… he was smart enough to give us an extra for insurance. Once you get the implant, no one will be able to tell.”
Relief washed over Jack’s face. He relaxed. “Yeah. Yeah you’re right.” He slid his hand down between the sheets. “Yep the cock is still there.”
Ken chuckled. “You have a few minutes to appreciate it before I bring in lunch.” He ducked out of the room.
“Wait wait Ken.”
“Whaaaat you big baby?”
“Will you still take care of me when the chemo hits me hard and my hair falls out and I’m gross?”
“…Don’t be an idiot, I’m not going anywhere.” Ken tsked his bed-ridden friend.
“…Ken?”
“Yes?”
“You’re my best friend, but I swear, it’s like we’re married soemtimes.”
Ken blushed, furiously red across his pale face. “Yeah…it is like we’re married aren’t we…haha…ha.”
He quickly escaped out of the room, but not before he heard Jack mutter, “I think that’d be nice actually…”
Ken was too macho to turn back and open up that can of worms with Jack, because mostly he felt like he would agree with him. It would be nice. As he put together the rest of the lunch on a tray, Ken realized he wouldn’t feel awkward kissing Jack and wondered what it all meant.
Ken thought that he really should be spending this weekend at a girl’s place, not here taking care of Jack… well first Ken would have to find a girlfriend. It’d been a while. It’d have to be someone with a good sense of humor, someone who wouldn’t mind going hiking on the weekends. Maybe someone who appreciated a night in, watching a movie too. Someone ambitious. Someone cute. Well, really, someone like…. oh god.
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Text is fictional.
bofu:
So once again, I have to gush about my oldest friend in the world (the amazing Mr. Alexander Burton) and how amazing he is. Still haven’t gotten used to the fact that he is actually being paid to dance with Ballet BC, and I will never get used to how stunning he is. This guy has worked so freaking hard to get to where he is today. He’s got a show coming up this weekend (March 8th 2012) …any peeps in Vancouver, y’all should check it out. He’s a star, and I’m so so so glad that I have this guy in my life. I’ve been so lucky to watch him grow as a dancer and as a person…and that I’ve had him in all but the first 3 days of my life is just amazing to me.
Photos by
Joe McNally
I haven’t done a ‘late nigh ballet reblog’ in a while. So here’s ten photos of of Alexander enraptured by the freedom dance has given him to express himself.
Another self portrait I took earlier on this year. All my friends told me i looked like a gay porn star when i posted it on fb, but i figured you guys on tumblr might appreciate it more.
Hell yeah we appreciate it more. Your shoulder to waist ratio really shows off your pecs.
“Excuse me, do you know where I can find an alpha male to use my body hard and fuck me dry as he pleases? My GPS isn’t connecting for some reason, I think I’m outside my data plan.”
“Oh, you went a couple blocks too far. If you just go up to Classen Boulevard and turn left, about two streets down on the corner there’s a gay bar. There’s a muscular guy that hangs out around down there who puts faggots in there place, if that’s what you want.”
“Ah fantastic, that’s what I need. So I go out to Classen this way?”
“Yeah that way, and make a left.”
“Thanks, man, appreciate it!”
“No problem, boy, hope you get the fucking you need.”
“No doubt about it! God, the hospitality in this city is amazing…”
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Text is fictional. Source unknown.
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.