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His balls were soft and squishy like pink marshmallows warm from being close to a fire. His ass felt like silk wrapped over two loaves of leavened bread dough – round and risen, puffy and thick. Every inch of Sacha was as virgin and innocent as fresh snow; even his nipples colored his chest like new rosebuds in spring. Kelley was enamored by his ethereal face and wisps of blond hair. He was best displayed on white shag and feather mattresses, ass up, his chubby cock tucked under him. It was too much to take in his seductive form at once. Kelley found it most erotic to simply caress the boy, gently ghosting his fingers over the most intimate curves and swells until Sacha was thoroughly hot and bothered and his balls were swollen as choux pastries fresh out of the oven. Then, Kelley would coax out the boy’s raspberry red erection from under him and watch it drip white pearls.

At times, sexing Sacha felt like a violation, like he’d crossed the red rope in front of a fine art piece, or like he had been forced to eat a dessert that had been gorgeously plated. Yet, Kelley always gave in to the temptation. He only had to put a hand anywhere near Sacha’s entrance and it would relax and open to receive Kelley. He’d never directly ask or beg for sex, but the soft mews of need from Sacha told Kelley all he needed to know. Once Kelley slid his cock into the velvet walls to the hilt and nestled it in the confines of the boy’s bottom, the lingering guilt slid away. Kelley would lose himself, become detached from time itself and float away as he rocked and thrust. Sacha needed the stimulus, he needed the release; masturbation was too rough a game for a tender boy as him. He could only empty those plump balls through internal stimulation, of which Kelley was now the sole provider.

It had been like this for almost a year.

Kelley found Sacha at a high-end adult club for gay men. While trying to find the bathroom in the VIP section, he heard a boy crying. He wandered into the “employee only” area and found Sacha crying in a ball on the floor after accidentally having caught his fingers in a closing door. Kelly soothed him and iced his fingers, then inquired as to why he was not on stage with the other boys. He was beautiful enough. Through his tears, Sacha explained that he was too nervous around the customers and became emotional when handled too aggressively; the house mistress had banished him to the dressing rooms to clean up after the more successful performers and to sew shut the holes in the boys’ costumes. Yet, she was still deducting money from his non-existent paychecks for room and board.
Kelley had been furious; he paid the debt and whisked Sacha off to his yacht in the Mediterranean as a gift to his beloved slave and houseboy, Jules. Jules had a lot of chores – especially when tending to the villa Kelley shared with his brother and socialite wife. He was often times, lonely, so Kelley had brought him a pet to keep him company during the day. The boys had become best of friends.

Jules was not a delicate flower. He was the son of Slavic farmers, meaty and substantial. He was a voyeur and terribly slutty. He could take a lot of cock and plenty of strikes from a whip, and he was quite proud of his own endurance. Jules liked leather. He liked humiliation; he liked it rough and sudden. Yet, Jules was delighted by his new pet; he enjoyed spoiling him greatly, sneaking him pastries from the kitchen or washing him by hand in the bath. Sacha’s milk tasted like the sea and they would pass the time together when their Master was away. His Master approved of their play, knowing a chastity cage kept Sacha safe from Jules’s rough lust.

As Master Kelley rode Sacha to his orgasm, he was more convinced than ever heaven existed right here on Earth. Forget collecting fine art or vases or whatever rich people did – he had all he could every want right here in his bed for any mood or whim: one angel and one devil.

Under him, Sacha moaned and his bones trembled as his nervous system overloaded from the sensitive tip rubbing against the sheets. He never dreamed intimacy could feel this wonderful. He loved being full of Master Kelley, to know the Master he worshiped and adored was was fully using his body and exploring all its potential. Master Kelley’s cock never hurt him, it only drove him to sweet madness and divine bliss. Sacha pushed back against the man dividing him and gasped as the blunt tip pushed into his gland. He whimpered, close to peaking. Master Kelley often left him horny and needing, choosing to spill his boy’s seed when he deemed it fit. By the time he reached the exact second of penetration, Sacha was often near delirious with heat.

Just as he felt as if he would burn up from the inside out, Master Kelley pushed him over the edge and the fever broke. Sacha wailed like gale winds and his spine and thighs cramped from holding a tight arch. He gasped and a cascade of his seed gushed out onto the bed. Master Kelley grunted, dripping with sweat; he pulled Sacha’s hips up and held him in place as he delivered a few intense thrusts and spilled. Besides them, Jules moaned and continued to masturbate with a large rubber toy.

Master Kelley dropped his weight onto Sacha and flexed his ass, nudging his cock up as far as he could go as the orgasm crested and began to fade. Sounds of three men panting filled the small bedroom on the yacht. Master Kelley remained buried in Sacha for as long as he could, making sure every tiny little drop of seed was out of his pet. When he withdrew, Sacha cried a little at the loss. Master Kelley instantly swept him into his arms and cuddled him, kissing his cherubic cheeks and rubbing circles onto his hip with his palm.

Once the hormones and emotions dispersed, Sacha was left exhausted and drained and wet. The ache of the loss not so great now, and in truth he was quite happy. Jules however, was angry and frustrated, so Master Kelley took a moment to clean his cock, relubed, and then pounded Jules into the mattress until he triggered an anal orgasm and gave his locked boy some relief. Sacha didn’t mind watching; he found it all fascinating how so much cum could come out of such a trapped little penis. Jules, of course, loved it when Sacha watched. He’d thank him by parting his legs and licking him clean under his Master’s approving gaze.

Afterwards, the three would have a rest, talking and giggling. When it got chilly, there would be a hot bath together, with sparkling water and finger foods. Master Kelley would normally pinch himself at least once to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Then he would draw the bath and the yacht named Paradise would sail off in the night toward the Almafi Coast.

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Text is fictional. One source says the name of this owner’s ass is Brandon from Sean Cody but he’s in too many videos to pin down a specific one. Goddamn, that ass though.

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“Ta-da! What do you think of my new bathing suit, honey? It’s so smooth and revealing – you can see the outline of my piercing in front – but look at my ass, this is the best part! If you get horny, you can just roll over on top of me and fuck me without having to push down briefs. It’s gonna easier than ever to be naughty.”
“Goddamn, my mouth is watering at how juicy your ass looks in those. Mine all mine. Every girl is gonna be looking at your fine butt outta jealousy, and the boys are gonna wish they even had a drop of your confidence. Mmmm, two nice handfuls. I could just devour you right now.”
“Nuh uh uh! Patience is a virtue, sweetie. Mmm, oh yes you can cup me between my legs, I’ll tolerate that. Now, hand me my little crop top please, and we’ll be good to go. I packed lube, condoms, water…”
“Alright, alright. I’ll be good. Here’s your top. Oh wait babe, come back here. Let big papa work some sunscreen into your bubble butt. You’re smokin hot, but I don’t want the sun to burn stripes into your butt baby.”
“Ohh I never thought of that. You take such good care of my ass, honey. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Get blue balls?”
“Oh, don’t even say that. Ooo your hands feel nice…mm work it in baby, make it gleam.”

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Text is fictional. Source is here. Have notified user I’m using his photo. Backlog post #3.

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femme4masc:

He had the nerve to ask YOU, his pussyboi princess, to do manual labor, because “one of the cars is really dirty and what does that say about us [he has a point there] and no one can come do it because it’s a holiday weekend and blah blah blah. Excuses.

You figure: if you’re going to have to be on all fours with him for the better part of an hour without getting cock, you might as well make him pay for it. So you wear your favorite slutty jockstrap panties. And just that.

Poor Stud is so distracted. Washing the car’s gonna take way longer than you thought, but you’re enjoying this — making him suffer — too much.

He even tries to rub and finger your pussy a few times while you’re bending over to scrub the tires. You slap his hand, look back coyly, and admonish him, “We have to focus on the work at hand, baby, because the car’s very dirty, and what does that say about us?”

By the time you’re done he’s practically salivating. Without saying a word, you sultrily walk back into the house, paying close attention to the movement of your cheeks, now glistening with sweat.

Three steps into the house and you can hear him running, panting towards you like a wild animal coming after its prey..

Three minutes after and you’re pinned under him, moaning and calling out to the heavens for the way he’s taking you.

Making him wait, and just a little angry, never ever fails to make him ravage you.

Hell hath no fury like a power bottom scorned.