Tag: gay captions

Gallery
by ccallenreese

thelambwhoruledlions:

It’s almost sweater weather!

“You like this sweater?” Brett asks.
“Yeah,” I grin, “You look good.”
He snorts. “Aren’t you punny.” He smiles anyway, and our lips meet for a searing kiss.

“Mmnn…” Brett purrs. “I liked that.”
I bless him with another, and start snaking my hands into his clothes as our make-out session intensifies. Almost involuntarily, I start tugging on them to get them off. I want to suck him. I want to get my mouth on him soon so I can feel him hardening against my tongue.
“Hey babe?” Brett asks.
“Yeah?” I ask, muzzy headed.
“If you like me in this sweater so much, why are you trying to get me out of it?”
I blink at him, momentarily knocked off my predictable orbit. He gives me a smug look, waiting for a reply.
I clear my throat. “Well, because I think right now, you don’t want to be in that sweater.”
“Oh?”
“I think you’d rather be in me,” I finish with a grin.
Brett groans. “That was terrible. But good. And you’re not wrong. I was cold a moment ago. Why is it suddenly so warm in here?”
I take my off shirt.
Brett oggles my abs. “Oh. That’s why.”

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Captions are fictional. Guys might be Elias Vikstedt and Lari Väänänen but I can’t read Finnish to tell if that’s true or not.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I sip my drink and think, with a dopey smile on my face, God he’s dumb. He’s just meat, communicating in this ancient animalistic language of muscles and grunts and assigning himself status by how many bitches he’s shagged. He makes stupid jokes over dinner – at a chain restaurant, of course – and puts away beer easily during the meal.

I find him kind of amusing actually. These jockbros are predictable. I will let him fuck me later, but there’s no future in this relationship. But that’s how it’s supposed to be – guys like Brice exist purely to fuck horny boys that have an urge to bottom. He’s just a rather realistic dildo for when our toys aren’t doing it for some reason. I’ll set him free after sex. Hell, it’s my duty to set him free during sex. That way, he can go lusting after some other twink ass and bless him with a hot fuck. He may be dumb, but Brice knows how to use his dick. Nice that he’s got that going for him. I pity the ones that don’t.

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Captions are fictional. This is Colin Wayne apparently.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

You hadn’t realized just how special he was to you, just how deep he’d gotten under your skin. You didn’t realize just how much your life had interwoven with his. You never noticed that you stopped just planning dates, and just ended up just naturally seeing each-other several times a week. You had tooth-brushes in both places, underwear and socks. It was getting to be time to talk about moving in together. Even with only one anniversary behind you, you were sure they’d be a second.

You had plans to watch Sunday football together, but he never called you. Confused, you called him. He didn’t answer. Then his mother called you. There’d been an accident. Another driver blew a tire and lost control on the freeway. The man who meant the most to you was alive, but it was bad. Not something a quick trip to the operation room would fix, but bad bad. As in – we’re-not-sure-if-he’ll-ever-wake-up-bad. Swelling in the brain. Bone fragments. And other stuff. His team won the football game today.

When the hospital finally kicked you out after visiting hours ended, you didn’t know where you to go. It was hard to drive through your tears. You found yourself driving to his house. Halfway there, you remembered that his dog had been left alone all day. You rushed to take care of Cashew.

Cashew greeted you, confused but happy to see you. You let him out and cleaned up the puddle in the kitchen. You filled his bowl, changed his water. Cashew was happy to take a romp in the yard, and delve into dinner, but after he ate, he noticed something was wrong. He looked around for his Master, then looked at you expectantly. Cashew’s tail stopped wagging. He whimpered. You knelt down and hugged him close.

“I’m going to be taking care of you for a while,” you murmur, tears falling into his coat.

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Captions are fictional. Sequel is here.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

The photo was followed by a rather terse text message: “OK. I agreed to pay you AND took a photo of me posing almost naked with a bottle of Tide over my junk. NOW will you come over and help me for fucks sake?”

Taylor howled at how angry Mark looked. Taylor had just moved into a new place with his new Daddy, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before Mark realized just how much Ty did around the apartment. Taylor didn’t mind housekeeping, nor did he mind doing things for men he thought were particularly hot and might fuck him later, but over time it became obvious that Mark was just taking advantage of him – and he lied about being bi. Dude was straight as they came.

So once Ty met someone, he gave 30 days and moved out. Ty gave warning – “you know we won’t be able to do our laundry together once I move out’ – but Mark brushed him off. Ty suspected Mark thought he’d just find some girlfriend to do it for him, but his current girl, Stacey, was a fierce law student and didn’t have time to play maid for him.

Ty had enjoyed every pleading text message from Mark. Ty’s new man said it wasn’t nice for a boy to tease and be rude to another man who had made mistakes, but that didn’t mean Ty couldn’t get a little fun out of the situation. That picture was worth it alone.

“Ok ok, fine. I’ll come help you get the apartment fixed up, per hourly rate I suggested. I’ll be there in an hour. After this, you’ll have to hire a maid.”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll get around to that later.,” Mark texted back. “Just get over here.”
Ty rolled his eyes. Mark needed a Daddy of his own to fix that procrastination habit of his and to fix his snarky attitude. A rather naughty idea popped into Ty’s head. He knew where Stacey went to class in the morning. He wondered how much talking it would take to plant some seeds in her head about how she could boss Mark into shape…

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

puparazzi-photography:

HOWLS! It’s the weekend!

Bethany walked out to the bar’s patio with a tray expertly balanced on one hand. “Hey there Clifford! I thought I heard that distinctive howl.”
“I really don’t know why he feels the need to announce his presence here,” his keeper Archie said with a chuckle. He was being facetious, but Archie really loved it. In real life, Clifford – Cliff – suffered from social anxiety and rarely spoke outside the house. Pupping let him be free.
“I think howling’s just how he tells me he’s ready to order,” Bethany said with a wink “Be right back.”
Archie shook his head, and pulled his pup away from her legs. “You’re such a silly pup.”

Bethany went to drop off the beers at the right table, and returned. “Ok, so water for your pup’s bowl, and for you?”
“Let’s get him the sausage. For me, the wing sampler, with the pickle, and a pitcher of …whatever lager is good. Friend’ s joining me in a few.”
“Gotcha.”
“Be right out. Aww Clifford you are so cute. Good puppy.” She gave him a scritch. Clifford made more howly noises before Archie shushed him, and Bethany ducked back inside.

In this part of town, gay bars weren’t anything unusual, but the Hex was the most notorious of them all for where all the real freaks and perverts hung out. Archie was a regular. Clifford had charmed everyone in the bar, even those who weren’t used to pups. He notified people when they dropped their keys, guarded the women’s bathroom on request from creepy guys, and one one occasion, tackled a man who had been pick-pocketing phones from patrons on a crowded Saturday night. Now he had his own bowl that Hex kept behind the counter, and the staff knew him by name.

Clifford was wagging up a storm when the sausage arrived in a bed of comped fries. Archie cut the sausage and gave it to his boy, smiling at him lovingly as he enjoyed dinner. Archie settled in with his lager and his wings and his friend came soon after. What a beautiful evening, he thought. If heaven existed, it would look a lot like Hex.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

When he picked me up for our date, I asked him if he decided where we were going. He’d been mulling on it for a couple days, since our last date at the museum.

“Well I had a few ideas,” he said, ‘But it’s such a nice autumn day, I was wondering if you might enjoy going for a walk in the woods. I know a nice easy trail, and I um, I packed some snacks and things.”
I had to agree it sounded wonderful to just walk outside and enjoy the pretty leaves on the trees. I went inside to change my shoes, and then jumped in his car.

Our gentle hike was such a refreshing change from the dinner, movie, or club circuit that it seems all gay boys take their dates on. It was amazing how much we bonded just from talking, and walking hand in hand. I was really hoping he’d let me kiss him at the end of our date, but I got super lucky. He let me kiss him before we even made it to our picnic. Just off the trail. I will always remember how the air felt chilly but his lips were warm. Felt like we were the only ones in the forest.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Good morning, boy.”
“Good morning, Sir.”
“How were the waves this morning?”
“Excellent, but a little cold,” he answers, busying himself with making coffee.
“I’m glad you had fun, but what did I tell you to do about the sand off your feet and ankles when you come in the house?”
He gives me a sideways smile and rubs the back of his tanned neck. “To rinse off before I enter the house, Sir.”
“That’s right. So why don’t you?”
“Well, I’m the houseboy. I’m going to be cleaning it up anyway.”
“But do you think I want to walk on sand barefoot in my kitchen and track it into the house, into the carpeted areas? And scratch up my hardwood?”
“I didn’t….” he trails off when he sees my face. “No Sir.”
“You are in my employ. My instructions are not suggestions. I have my reasons.”
“Thank you for the correction, Sir.”

He pours a cup of coffee, adds milk, cream, and sugar, and serves me before tending to his own – straight black joe.
“Thank you.”
He nods.
I take a sip and set down my mug. “Now, put yours down and put your hands on the counter.”
My boy groans. I delight in it. Taming a half feral beach bum has tested my limits sometimes, but I do enjoy enforcing my boundaries. He obeys, because he does not want to end up locked in chastity long-term.
I pluck the spatula out of the utensil holder on the counter.
“20,” I announce.
Another groan. My cock hardens. The first six are gentle thwacks, teasing stings to warm up the chilled flesh. I stroke the skin, admiring how the color returns. Seven is a little harder, and he tenses. I play him this way for a few more swats, each spank the same as the one before it, but sting after sting is making him tender and squirmy. The legs begin to kick. The last five are hard swings that make him cry out and kick up his feet. “19…”
“Ah!”
“20.”
He hisses loudly. “Nnnngg!”

“Very good.” I kiss his back between his shoulder blades then put the paddle in the sink. I walk to the fridge, take out the aloe, and squirt some between my hands. I massage it into his hot flesh, and he whimpers and mews and shudders. “Oh my god Sir – it’s so cold!” he gasps.
“God you are delicious,” I reply, distracted, as I’m nibbling on his shoulder and licking the taste of sea water off hsi skin.
“Sir!” he cries, a high needy note, as I stroke his ass, and then his body shudders. I hear something drip, which is followed by a certain smell. I pull back. “Did you ejaculate?” I check the floor, which is covered in milky drips.
“I- I- ” he stammers.
I reach out and grasp his cock, which is softening. I pull back his foreskin. He gasps. It’s wet.
“Oh you did. That torment got you all horny did it?”
“I just got hard when you spanked me, and when you started rubbing my ass with the cold aloe, I just couldn’t control it!” my boy explained.
“That’s sexy as fuck,” I murmur. I reach above him in the cabinet for the coconut oil. I undo my pants, squirt some onto my cock, and take him against the counter. His cries fuel on my throbbing cock. His butt is still tender and every thrust makes him tense and whimper. The urge to fuck him becomes a violent thirst. I give him several hard thrusts and spill my morning load. “Oh FUCK,” I bellow, letting loose.
“Sir!”
I grab his waist and hold us close, his warm butt against my hips. The moment begins to dissipate. My coffee is getting cold. I slide out of him, and we both moan.
“God fucking damn,” I sigh. “What a wonderful morning.”
My boy doesn’t respond. His body is heaving. “God Sir, that was a rush being used and owned by you like that.”
I smile to myself. “That is the world I am trying to create for you.”
“I – I understand Sir.”
“Good. I was hoping to hear that. Well, let’s go take a shower. You have breakfast to make and a lot of cleaning to do.”
“Yes sir.”

I decided to wait until we were in my double shower to tell him he was going to spend the rest of the day in chastity for coming without permission.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

lovehouse:

“you’re my great escape” 👬

Mrs. Martinez gasped and clutched her hands over her chest. “Oh Diego, look at you. you look so handsome.”
He blushed and scuffed his foot, tapping the flowers on his leg. “Hi Mrs. Martinez.”
“Aww look at you,” she cupped his face in her hands. “You are so precious. I’m so happy my son is getting taken to prom by someone so handsome.” He blushed harder. She chuckled and patted his cheek.
“Mary, you’re embarrassing him,” Mr. Martinez teased as he came out of the kitchen. “Give him some space.”
“Hi Mr. Martinez.”
“Hello. God, you remind me so much of me, picking up Mary for prom.”
“You had that growth spurt and barely fit in your pants,” Mary laughed.
“Uh,” Diego said.
“Oh sorry honey,” Mary said. “Where is Mathias? Mathias! Your date is here!”
“ONE MOMENT!” came the yell from upstairs.
“Probably still getting ready,” Mr. Martinez said. “Mathias!”
No response.

“I’ll go get him,” Diego offered.
“Go do that,” Mary said. “Oh let met take your flowers and put them in water.”
“Thanks ma’am.’
"Sooo adorable,” Mary clucked, taking the flowers to the kitchen.

Diego waved to Mathias’s dad and headed upstairs. “Matty?” He stepped on the second level. “Mathiiiaaass~”
“…Diego?”
“Yeah, I came to pick you up. I’m a bit early. Where are you?”
Diego heard a door open. “In here.” He followed the noise around the corner and found Mathias in the bathroom.

Diego stopped in the doorway. He was so used to seeing Mathias in hockey gear or athletic wearthat it was strange and stunning to see him in black slacks and a pressed white shirt. He’d gotten a haircut and was in the middle of styling his hair. Suspenders hung off his shoulders. “Wow,” Diego breathed.
Mathias gaped right back at him. “Wow yourself. You look like you’re getting married.”
“Kinda feels like it,” Diego agreed, unable to stop smiling. “Your hair looks great. Here, can I help you?”
“I need help,” Mathias admitted
Diego chuckled and took up the comb. He doted over his parnter, fixing his hair, gelling it in place. Satisfied, he fixed Mathias’s collar and adjusted his suspenders so they stayed. “There.”
Mathias considered himself in the mirror. “Wow I barely recognize myself.”
“I can’t take my eyes off of you,” Diego admitted. “I can’t believe you agreed to go to prom with me.” He hooked his fingers in Mathias’ pants and pulled him close.
“I still can’t believe you got up the courage to ask me,” Mathias answered. “Oh you’re wearing cologne.”
“It’s my dad’s,” Diego admitted.

Mathis smiled. “It smells good.”
“Thanks.”
Their eyes met and they began to kiss. Diego slid his arms around Mathias and ravished his lips until they were a swollen. He even snuck a selfie in so they’d have a little private memory of their own.

“Mathias! Diego! We have to get going!” Mary called upstairs.
Mathias pulled away and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Wow.”
“That’s the word of the night huh?” Diego chuckled.
“For sure.”
“Come on, we got a prom to go to. Where is your coat?” Diego asked.
“Let me go get it…”
“Oh, I brought you flowers too. They’re downstairs.”
“Aww you brought me flowers? Come here. You get another kiss for that.”

“BOYS!”
Mathias groaned. “We’re coming mom!”
Diego stole that kiss anyway. “Grab your jacket. Don’t want to be late to our own prom.”

Mathias wouldn’t forget that jacket. In the inside pocket was lube and a condom. His dad had pulled him aside earlier in the night and gave him a “talk”. He was so nervous, but when he thought of Diego, it melted away. Tonight was going to be special.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

torontopup:

www.recon.com/torontoslave

“Such a heavy collar and chain. Locked up tight. Someone wanted a guard dog, it seems. But your diet is poor, and it is way too warm out here to leave you in leather pants. And look at this! Your water bowl has dried up in this heat. Poor puppy. You are too adorable to be neglected. You are at risk of heat stroke too. Don’t worry. we are going to take you back to the shelter where you’ll get a nice cool bath. We’ll have a stern talking with your owner too. If he doesn’t want the responsibility, well…I’d be happy to foster you.”

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Hold on! Pose, I’m gonna get a picture!” I raise my DLSR and shoot off a couple frames.
“You got it babe? The sun’s in my eyes.”
“Perfect,” I say, looking at the screen.
“Shit this ice cream is totally melting in this heat.”
“Mmn. Let me get that for you.” I grab hold of his wrist, and lick the back of his hand and his fingers.
He groans. “Fuck that turns me on so bad.”
I grin, and lick up, stealing a bit of his ice cream and a bit of cone.”
“Hey,” he laughs. “You know what dairy does to your stomach.”
“I’ll suffer,” I reply. I release his wrist and cup his chin, blessing him with a sticky, sweet ice-cream kiss. He groans again and pushes back against me. Our tongues meet and dance. It suddenly feels 10 degrees hotter outside. I break apart to keep from burning up. “Fuck…”
He blinks at me, dazed. “Damn, man. You are one smoking hot kisser.”
I smile. “I save that gift for cute guys I like on dates that I have fun on.”
“Oh? Ohh….” he says, figuring it out. “You think I’m cute?”
“Amongst other adjectives. Your ice cream is melting though,” I say, pointing.
“Shit,” he mutters, catching the drips with his tongue. I watch, and adjust myself. I smile. I can’t remember having this much fun on the beach.

“Hey uh, after you finish with that…”
“Hm?” he asks, busy eating his treat.
“Do you want to find a vacant space on the beach and have a little public fuck under the towel?”
His eyes go wide. “In public?” your boyfriend gasps.
“Oh yeah,” I purr, adjusting myself again. “You under me, trapped between a blanket, the heat of our other blanket on top of us. Me rutting into your tight ass, you leaking pre-cum from your trapped cock.”
He swallows, hard, and chews on the ice cream cone while never taking his eyes off of you. “Fuck that is so naughty…”
“You’re getting hard,” I murmur, feeling him through his shorts.
“Fuck how could I not? You have such a sexy mouth.”
I smirk. “I bet you’ll smell real good, under me, so tight and hot for me…”
He groans again. “Stop, stop. Let me finish the cone first.”
I chuckle and smack him on the ass. “Alright. While you finish that, let’s go find ourselves a private spot.”
“Fuck yeah. Let’s go get naughty.”

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Captions are fictional.