Tag: gay captions

by ccallenreese

dominoxz:

ᴅᴏᴍɪɴᴏ

With so many young men in China competing for the best jobs and biggest paychecks, it’s inevitable that some will lose out. Chen realized the odds were stacked against him early, and figured there was no point. He could use the assets he had – no college degree required! – to make the the millionaires pay. His father wasn’t too happy about his choice. However, one night he had his boss over for dinner, and was alarmed to come back into the room and see his boss and his son talking privately….
His father refused to believe he saw anything… until mysteriously, he got a raise and promotion two weeks later. 
Couple months later, Chen bought his father a car. His father changed his tune, and soon praised his clever son.

_________
Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

vallentiro14:

“Why are you acting surprised? We both know that’s what we’re doing here. Cut the act. Also stop acting so nervous; no one is gonna know. See? Just relax. You can’t get hard if you don’t relax. I know you want me. Show me what you learned going to college in the city. Show me what you can do with your mouth. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

______________
Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

allbecauseoftheboys:

allbecauseoftheboys:

vallentiro14:

Ryan stood under the cold spray of the outdoor shower and thought. The shock of the water temperature on this summer day mixed with the post-nut clarity lead him to feeling ashamed of himself. Ryan, seriously – you let the farrier fuck you? That guy? He’s old enough to be your dad almost. And he’s not even that hot. That was a bit slutty of you. You don’t need to be laid that badly do you? Ryan ran his hands over his face. Do I? It was two weeks since the last one, when I hooked up with that Grindr guy passing through town. Usually I can last a month. Maybe it’s cause it’s hot and everyone’s shirtless. Ryan was not convincing himself. Mostly because it felt pretty good to get laid, and Ryan knew he needed more of it. He could not deny that.

Ryan turned off the water and shook off the droplets. It would be another six weeks before the farrier came back to the ranch. Is this going to become a steady thing? Ryan wondered. He liked the idea of having a steady fuck, even if it was the farrier. Six weeks was still a long time to be considered “steady” in most places, but out here in the middle of nowhere that was still considered pretty lucky.

Ryan sighed and toweled off his muscles. God, if he could get laid once a week – maybe twice a week! – that would be heaven. Ryan glanced up and realized his horse Marcy was staring at him on the other side of the fence. She’d not seen him naked before. Ryan pointed a finger at her. “Don’t get any ideas. Also, can you go find me a prince? Thanks.” She snorted and walked off.
Ryan sighed. He needed a man. In the old days you could just place an ad in the paper for a “country husband”. “Country slut needs gay ranchhand” would not work. Ryan was gonna have to get creative. Now he’d been freshly fucked, all he was gonna think about for a while was getting his next dick. This was a problem that could not be solved by a trip to the feed store.

_________________________
Captions are fictional.

Ryan rested in the saddle and gazed around the empty pasture being swallowed by darkness. All the horses had been brought in for the night, but Marcy was nowhere to be found. Usually when he brought them in, she would linger and headbutt Ryan for a treat in case he had a sugar cube or peppermint candy in his pocket. But she wasn’t there.
Ryan was concerned enough that he borrowed Judd’s horse that was still saddled and rode out into the pasture to sweep the corners and check for breaks in the fence. Ryan was dreading finding a dark, motionless shape on the ground, but so far, nothing. It was a relief, but Ryan was baffled by her absence.
How did she get out? Sure she could jump the fence, but Marcy was a particularly stubborn and lazy horse. If she jumped the fence, something would have startled the entire pack and they would have all bolted in a panic. Someone Ryan worked with would have noticed the commotion.

Ryan took off his hat, rubbed his forehead with his dusty sleeve, and put his hat back on. He sighed. The shame and regret from letting the farrier fuck him earlier was sinking in deep now; it was uncomfortable being on the saddle. He wanted a hot plate and a hot meal – and a soft, comfy sofa. Plus it was near dark now with the sun down and the bugs were out. Ryan swatted a mosquitos on his neck. “Goddammit.” He guided Judd’s horse to walk the fence line that ran parallel with the road. He swept a flashlight over the fence as he followed it for a couple minutes.

A truck was approaching, so Ryan lowered the flashlight beam. It was one of those LED things that had the power of the sun. The truck put on its hazards and pulled over anyway. Ryan didn’t recognize the truck or the young man driving it, which was surprising. A lost traveler maybe?
“Can I help you?” Ryan drawled.
“Are you missing a horse by chance?”
Ryan tilted his head. “Matter of fact I am. A mare, a sorrel with a blaze.”
“Well she’s on our porch,” the young man said. He looked amused by the whole thing.
“Your porch?” Ryan repeated. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you?”
The young man waved. “Carter Whitehouse. I’m Bill and Margie’s grandson. I was working on a ranch near Yellowstone for a bit, but I just moved out here to help them on the farm and renovate the house since Grandpa Bill’s been sick.”
Ryan held his breath in his chest. He wasn’t a religious man, but god if there was a chance – any chance at all, that Carter would be up for kissing another man- Ryan wanted to take that chance. He cleared his throat. “Well that was mighty nice of you. They’ve been over asking for help a bit, I’m glad they have you to rely on now. My name’s Ryan Dumont, my dad and I run this place.” He jerked his thumb to his left.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Carter was studying Ryan. His grandparents talked a lot about the Dumonts. They were old fashioned, and although they appreciated the Dumonts as neighbors, they had made comments about “the homosexual” who lived there. Carter really hoped that was who they were talking about. Because Jesus Christ, the Marlboro Man could have passed the torched to him.

Ryan cleared his throat again. “Well. I better go get my mysteriously vanishing horse off your property.” He instructed Carter to drive onto his property and meet him at their barn, where Ryan would drop off Judd’s horse. They would ride back to Carter’s, and Ryan would ride Marcy bareback home.

The conversation in the car was brief, as the trip was three miles down the road. Sure enough, Marcy was hanging out in the Whitehouse’s front lawn, eating the grass, tied to the fence.
Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle. “You silly girl, how did you get over here?” She whinnied at the sight of him. Ryan stroked her nose and she headbutted him in the shoulder. “Young lady, you don’t get a treat, you misbehaved today.”
She flickered her ears at him.
“Don’t get sassy with me.”
“She doesn’t seem sassy. She seems to be a real nice girl,” Carter said as he walked up.
“She is. Normally. She’s never jumped the fence before. I don’t know what got into her.”

“Well you know how it is with some horses, it could be the shadow of a cloud for all we know.”
That made Ryan laugh. He liked Carter’s sense of humor.

Ryan agreed to have the Whitehouses over for dinner soon, untied Marcy, and reluctantly bid Carter goodbye. He climbed the fence to get on Marcy’s back, and then steered her down the driveway and to the house with a borrowed bridle.

As he walked the miles in the dark, lit only by moonlight, Ryan had time to reflect on what had just happened. He still couldn’t explain it. He was also distracted by the soreness in his rear end. Stupid farrier with a great dick, he muttered to himself.
Back at the stable, Ryan ran the whole story by Judd.
Judd put his hands on his hips and thought. “It sounds like she wasn’t escaping something, but going after something she wanted on their property if you ask me. Another horse maybe? They bought two of your dad’s horses right?”
“Yeah, they did-” Ryan’s thought trail was interrupted by a moment of clarity. Wait, hadn’t he told Marcy to go find him a prince earlier? He looked at Marcy, who returned the gaze innocently from her stall. There was no way.
“Yeah, I’m sure she recognized their scents or something,” Ryan said quickly. “Come on, let’s finish up here. I’m starving.”
“Yeah me too. Come on, follow me with the blankets here.”
“Sure, coming, one sec.” Before Ryan did, he slipped Marcy a peppermint candy he had in his pocket. He patted her nose. “Good girl,” Ryan whispered. He could not wait to have the Whitehouses over for dinner.

_______________
Captions are fictional. Someone here reblogged or liked one of my older stories, so I decided to write a sequel.

Ryan turned off the light and rolled over. He threw the comforter over himself and snuggled into the queen sized bed. Quiet. Crickets.
“Oh fuck it,” he grumbled. Like there was any reason for pretending he wasn’t going to be masturbating tonight. His dreams were going to be full of Carter anyway, might as make the most of it. He pushed the comforter back and shimmied out of his boxer shorts. They were already ripped and he cursed as he tore the hole bigger. Ryan dropped them on the floor and fumbled in the side drawer for lube, then settled back into bed.
Yeah this was definitely happening. His cock was already waking up. Ryan put some lubrication in his palm and curled his fingers around his shaft. He was going to have to use his imagination for most of this, because up to this point he’d only seen Carter in a tee shirt and jeans. The shirt was appropriately tight enough to outline muscles, but there was no pecs, no nipples, no trail of hair revealed. Same with his Levi’s, which had been creased, and held the round shape of Carter’s ass like a display piece, but gave no indication that what he was packing was anything other than average. Which was fine, really, cause cock was cock regardless. Ryan imagined he’d be a grower more than a shower, which was also fine, cause that gave him a lot to discover and play with.

Ryan’s thoughts drifted to the dinner they’d just had. Carter had shown up freshly showered, in a widebrim hat and oiled cowboy boots. He’d brought a case of beer, which was well received. He was polite and a gentleman, helping Ryan’s mom set the table and serve the food. Compliments about the steaks came freely. He even helped wash up and clean the table. She was fawning all over Carter, and Ryan was still mad at himself that he got jealous over that.

But he was happy when Carter’s grandparents went home after coffee, but Carter stayed. Ryan and Carter had sat on the screened in porch together, talking about ranch work, the weather, the horses, Yellowstone, Marcy the disappearing horse- nearly anything. Ryan found it hard not to stare at Carter. He had a square jaw and soft lips, wavy brown hair, and grey eyes. Who had grey eyes? They were the color of a dove’s wing.
Then there were his hands, square fingered, veins up his forearm. A scar on his left finger.
Ryan groaned, imagining those hands taking a hold of him and stroking with all their strength. He needed to feel that. But he was getting a head of himself in his dreams. He imagined when Carter set his mug down and stood up to go, that he began unbuttoning his shift and saying something like, “I think we both know the real reason I’m over here…”
And Ryan would protest, because for some reason, he always had to spend a good thirty seconds convincing no one he wasn’t a slut. But Carter’s eyes would turn to hard steel and he’d say, “Are you telling me you’re not giving me that ass?” Because of course a soft sweet-hearted boy like that would have a tone he used only in very certain situations. And it would probably be the same time Carter would take his belt off and hold it in his hands in suggestive ways – and Ryan would cave in.

Carter would tell Ryan he was taking too long, and “help him” unbutton his pants. They would be kissing by this point, and it was obvious it was getting out of control. Ryan would be afraid his parents were still awake upstairs and came downstairs and catch them. But there was no stopping this.

In bed, Ryan groaned and thrusted into his fist. Carter would make Ryan put his hands on the railing, ass out. The lube was a problem, because in sudden sex situations he’d heard of people using spit, but Ryan thought that was 100% gross. He could run back into the kitchen for oil, but that broke the mood and also run the risk of being caught in cause his mom was getting water or something. So Ryan just decided in this fantasy that Carter brought lube with him, because he’d planned on fucking Ryan all along. Yeah, that worked.

“Fuck me,” Ryan muttered to himself as he sunk deeper into his fantasy. Carter’s cock would look perfect of course, jutting out of a trimmed brown hair. It wouldn’t look like too impossible to take, but it would definitely be the kind of cock that feels bigger than it actually is. Carter would know what he was doing, he’d slide a couple fingers in to stretch, but he’d give his cock to Ryan as soon as he could. It would be tight and it would be tender, but Carter would tell Ryan he wanted it and he could take it. And Ryan would take it. And it would feel amazing. It would stretch him to the hilt.

Carter would lean over and say some dirty things in his ears. He’d give a couple thrusts for consideration, then shift into pounding Ryan against the railing. Maybe he’d say something like: “Let’s see how strong your grandfather built this porch railing,” before nailing Ryan against it. He would be real worried about their parents hearing them now, but Carter wouldn’t care.

In his bed, Ryan was sweating. Even at night, the air held its summer heat and the ancient AC struggled on the upper floors in this house. The insulation needed to be redone too. “Fuck,” he grunted. Imagining Carter’s balls hitting his own was making him go crazy. “Yeah breed me…fuck me…god…”

The orgasm was a blinding, fuzzy mess as Ryan pictured Carter nailing him in a rapid staccato rhythm as he exploded all over the porch, breeding him like a stud horse. Ryan’s hips came off the bed. He bit his lip and drew blood; a wheeze escaped his lips. Cum splattered on his hips and chest.

The fantasy wavered in and out of focus. At some point, Carter would slip out, wipe himself on Ryan’s shirt, and then just zip himself back up. “Thank you for having me for dinner,” he’d say in a drawl – although Carter didn’t have much of a Southern drawl, it sure worked in this instance. And Ryan would be left on the porch dripping and with a used hole, catching his breath as Carter put his belt back on. Carter would enjoy the sight of a fresh conquest.

“Jesus christ,” Ryan muttered to himself. His fist cramped and he left his softening shaft rest on his hip so he could shake out the pain. This is super bad. I need him to fuck me, or it is going to be a very very difficult with him living next door. As Ryan laid there in his haze, he thought back over dinner and tried to determine if there was any clue Carter was gay.

There was that glance, a drop of tension, when they were having coffee on the porch – but maybe it was just them bonding as friends? Well, that also wasn’t good. When was the last time he made a new friend his age? Judd was ten years older; they were friends and went on hunting trips with other guys, but Judd was also busy raising his niece.

Fucking hell. He needed to figure out if Carter was gay. Which he probably wasn’t. If Carter wasn’t gay he wasn’t ever getting fucked. But if he was straight, he could salvage this. There was a real shortage of available women out here; and a horny straight man could be convinced to jerk off another guy with his eyes closed if he was desperate enough. Ryan hung his hat on that hope.

Ryan stared at the ceiling. “Oh my god, I’m so pathetic.” He glanced at his wet hand. Either one of three things would happen. One is that he was going to have to buy more tissues next time they went to Wal-mart. The other was that the horses would keep mysteriously having shoe issues that would result in a premature call to the farrier. Or, Ryan’s fantasies would come true. The odds didn’t seem particularly in his favor for the last one. Maybe it was time to get religious and start praying.

With a sigh, Ryan got up to go clean himself off before he dozed off.

Carter was in his dreams. And he was naked, at distance, without a clue he was being watched. Ryan had stumbled upon him bathing in the creek while looking for Marcy who had vanished again. But anytime Ryan tried to get a glance, Marcy got in his way and blocked the view. Ryan woke up the next morning, cursing that damn horse.

___________________
Captions are fictional. Part threeee.

by ccallenreese

omoerotismo:

David left the other group to come over and nudge Armani. “Look at that.” He gestured with his wine glass.
Armani turned around. “Look at that indeed. So rare for Peter to take an interest in anyone but me, but it seems he’s made an exception for your boy.”
“I’m honored, my Alexander is beautiful.”
“He is. Alexander seems a bit hesitant, though,” Armani said.
“He’s probably not used to another boy coming after him. Usually it’s the men without manners I have to watch out for.”  Alexander glanced at David. David nodded and made a casual sweeping gesture with his hand to indicate they should continue. He turned his attention back to Armani. “We shouldn’t stare, and let them have their fun.”
“Hard not to, I am enjoying watching this.”
David sipped from his glass. “They are beautiful. I’ve always been wanting to ask though, why haven’t you locked Peter yet?”

Armani said and sat down in a lounge chair. “I tried once. I like the look of it more, but, it just doesn’t work with Peter. It makes him sullen and unhappy. Plus he’s very…what’s the word – touch-oriented?”
“Oh like love languages? Touch is one of the love languages.”
“Yes, that. Peter likes touch, and I do enjoy having access to all of him. He’s trained well enough so we haven’t had any problems.”
“It’s so funny. It’s the opposite with Alexander. His love language is acts of service.” David chuckled. “Well, let’s be honest. His real love language is ‘receiving gifts’. He does love his sparkly things.”
Armani laughed. “I was wondering where his jewelry was.”
“I make him take it off on days we might be swimming.”
“Aah.” Armani sipped his wine. “Look at them. So passionate.”
“I dare say I’m getting a bit aroused watching Alexander play with Peter’s cock.”
“I would think something is wrong with you if you weren’t. Come, sit down David and watch this with me.”
David grabbed the half empty bottle of wine from the chiller and sat down in the parallel chair. “Refill?”
“Yes please.”

_________________
Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

allbecauseoftheboys:

vallentiro14:

Ryan stood under the cold spray of the outdoor shower and thought. The shock of the water temperature on this summer day mixed with the post-nut clarity lead him to feeling ashamed of himself. Ryan, seriously – you let the farrier fuck you? That guy? He’s old enough to be your dad almost. And he’s not even that hot. That was a bit slutty of you. You don’t need to be laid that badly do you? Ryan ran his hands over his face. Do I? It was two weeks since the last one, when I hooked up with that Grindr guy passing through town. Usually I can last a month. Maybe it’s cause it’s hot and everyone’s shirtless. Ryan was not convincing himself. Mostly because it felt pretty good to get laid, and Ryan knew he needed more of it. He could not deny that.

Ryan turned off the water and shook off the droplets. It would be another six weeks before the farrier came back to the ranch. Is this going to become a steady thing? Ryan wondered. He liked the idea of having a steady fuck, even if it was the farrier. Six weeks was still a long time to be considered “steady” in most places, but out here in the middle of nowhere that was still considered pretty lucky.

Ryan sighed and toweled off his muscles. God, if he could get laid once a week – maybe twice a week! – that would be heaven. Ryan glanced up and realized his horse Marcy was staring at him on the other side of the fence. She’d not seen him naked before. Ryan pointed a finger at her. “Don’t get any ideas. Also, can you go find me a prince? Thanks.” She snorted and walked off.
Ryan sighed. He needed a man. In the old days you could just place an ad in the paper for a “country husband”. “Country slut needs gay ranchhand” would not work. Ryan was gonna have to get creative. Now he’d been freshly fucked, all he was gonna think about for a while was getting his next dick. This was a problem that could not be solved by a trip to the feed store.

_________________________
Captions are fictional.

Ryan rested in the saddle and gazed around the empty pasture being swallowed by darkness. All the horses had been brought in for the night, but Marcy was nowhere to be found. Usually when he brought them in, she would linger and headbutt Ryan for a treat in case he had a sugar cube or peppermint candy in his pocket. But she wasn’t there.
Ryan was concerned enough that he borrowed Judd’s horse that was still saddled and rode out into the pasture to sweep the corners and check for breaks in the fence. Ryan was dreading finding a dark, motionless shape on the ground, but so far, nothing. It was a relief, but Ryan was baffled by her absence.
How did she get out? Sure she could jump the fence, but Marcy was a particularly stubborn and lazy horse. If she jumped the fence, something would have startled the entire pack and they would have all bolted in a panic. Someone Ryan worked with would have noticed the commotion.

Ryan took off his hat, rubbed his forehead with his dusty sleeve, and put his hat back on. He sighed. The shame and regret from letting the farrier fuck him earlier was sinking in deep now; it was uncomfortable being on the saddle. He wanted a hot plate and a hot meal – and a soft, comfy sofa. Plus it was near dark now with the sun down and the bugs were out. Ryan swatted a mosquitos on his neck. “Goddammit.” He guided Judd’s horse to walk the fence line that ran parallel with the road. He swept a flashlight over the fence as he followed it for a couple minutes.

A truck was approaching, so Ryan lowered the flashlight beam. It was one of those LED things that had the power of the sun. The truck put on its hazards and pulled over anyway. Ryan didn’t recognize the truck or the young man driving it, which was surprising. A lost traveler maybe?
“Can I help you?” Ryan drawled.
“Are you missing a horse by chance?”
Ryan tilted his head. “Matter of fact I am. A mare, a sorrel with a blaze.”
“Well she’s on our porch,” the young man said. He looked amused by the whole thing.
“Your porch?” Ryan repeated. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you?”
The young man waved. “Carter Whitehouse. I’m Bill and Margie’s grandson. I was working on a ranch near Yellowstone for a bit, but I just moved out here to help them on the farm and renovate the house since Grandpa Bill’s been sick.”
Ryan held his breath in his chest. He wasn’t a religious man, but god if there was a chance – any chance at all, that Carter would be up for kissing another man- Ryan wanted to take that chance. He cleared his throat. “Well that was mighty nice of you. They’ve been over asking for help a bit, I’m glad they have you to rely on now. My name’s Ryan Dumont, my dad and I run this place.” He jerked his thumb to his left.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Carter was studying Ryan. His grandparents talked a lot about the Dumonts. They were old fashioned, and although they appreciated the Dumonts as neighbors, they had made comments about “the homosexual” who lived there. Carter really hoped that was who they were talking about. Because Jesus Christ, the Marlboro Man could have passed the torched to him.

Ryan cleared his throat again. “Well. I better go get my mysteriously vanishing horse off your property.” He instructed Carter to drive onto his property and meet him at their barn, where Ryan would drop off Judd’s horse. They would ride back to Carter’s, and Ryan would ride Marcy bareback home.

The conversation in the car was brief, as the trip was three miles down the road. Sure enough, Marcy was hanging out in the Whitehouse’s front lawn, eating the grass, tied to the fence.
Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle. “You silly girl, how did you get over here?” She whinnied at the sight of him. Ryan stroked her nose and she headbutted him in the shoulder. “Young lady, you don’t get a treat, you misbehaved today.”
She flickered her ears at him.
“Don’t get sassy with me.”
“She doesn’t seem sassy. She seems to be a real nice girl,” Carter said as he walked up.
“She is. Normally. She’s never jumped the fence before. I don’t know what got into her.”

“Well you know how it is with some horses, it could be the shadow of a cloud for all we know.”
That made Ryan laugh. He liked Carter’s sense of humor.

Ryan agreed to have the Whitehouses over for dinner soon, untied Marcy, and reluctantly bid Carter goodbye. He climbed the fence to get on Marcy’s back, and then steered her down the driveway and to the house with a borrowed bridle.

As he walked the miles in the dark, lit only by moonlight, Ryan had time to reflect on what had just happened. He still couldn’t explain it. He was also distracted by the soreness in his rear end. Stupid farrier with a great dick, he muttered to himself.
Back at the stable, Ryan ran the whole story by Judd.
Judd put his hands on his hips and thought. “It sounds like she wasn’t escaping something, but going after something she wanted on their property if you ask me. Another horse maybe? They bought two of your dad’s horses right?”
“Yeah, they did-” Ryan’s thought trail was interrupted by a moment of clarity. Wait, hadn’t he told Marcy to go find him a prince earlier? He looked at Marcy, who returned the gaze innocently from her stall. There was no way.
“Yeah, I’m sure she recognized their scents or something,” Ryan said quickly. “Come on, let’s finish up here. I’m starving.”
“Yeah me too. Come on, follow me with the blankets here.”
“Sure, coming, one sec.” Before Ryan did, he slipped Marcy a peppermint candy he had in his pocket. He patted her nose. “Good girl,” Ryan whispered. He could not wait to have the Whitehouses over for dinner.

_______________
Captions are fictional. Someone here reblogged or liked one of my older stories, so I decided to write a sequel.

Edit: Part three is https://www.tumblr.com/allbecauseoftheboys/717159089294196736/ryan-turned-off-the-light-and-rolled-over-he?source=share

Gallery
by ccallenreese

You’re both a decade too old to be fooling around in the woods, discovering each-other. But on this trip to the National Park you’ve made an unexpected friend – a friend like you. A friend who looks at you the same way a woman does.

He’s now bare in front of you with the most beautiful penis you’ve ever seen, curved like an archer’s bow. You’re desperate to touch it, but also scared. Your hands are trembling. The kisses are distracting you enough to prevent you from panicking and running away. His lips are so soft. You put your hands on his shorts. So close. Close enough to feel the heat coming off of him. You want to touch, but you’re just so scared.
He reaches down and brings your hands to his cock. You gasp. He breaks the kiss and looks at you. “Was that wrong?”
“No no it’s…it’s …” You glance down in disbelief that you are actually touching him. You run his shaft along the palm of your hand in an exploratory way. “It’s good. Very good. This is nice.”
He smiles and moves to kiss you again. “Good. Please don’t stop.”
You curl your fingers around his cock. He arches into your hand. The feeling of that makes your head spin. A surge of want courses through you and the chatter and noise of the forest melts away. You push him down to the grass and stroke him with purpose. He moans out in pleasure and wraps his arms around you. Blood pounds in your ears. Yes, yes! This is right.
__________________
Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

rantsofalib:

It’s jock strap Thursday 😁

Brent picked up his phone and read the text message from Donovan: “Hey are you still home?”
He wrote back: “Yeah why?”
There was a knock at the door. Brent jumped.
“Hi lol.” Came another text.
Brent walked to the front door and opened it. “Donovan, what are you doing here?”
Donovan grabbed Brent’s shirt. “I need you to fuck me please. I am begging you.”
Brent scoffed. “Woah calm down there. Did you take a viagra or something?”
“No I got a new vibrator and I’ve been playing myself all morning, but it’s not taking the edge off. I need you to fuck me like how you do. You know. Hard. Right into the bed. I need to cum like that.” Donovan whimpered.
Brent decided it was a good idea to let Donovan into the house.
“I’m already lubed and stretched, just for the love of god please.” Donovan cupped Brent’s bulge. “Please?”
“Donovan it’s barely 1 in the afternoon.”
“Your point?”
Brent chuckled. “Guess you woke up on the horny side of the bed. Well I most certainty want to pound your ass into oblivion, but-”
“Nooo not ‘but!”
“But my friend Raj is coming over to work on some music. And he has six thick inches buried in dark curls. If you can be a patient boy, you can get wrecked by two cocks, how do you feel about that?”
Donovan whimpered again. “I – I would like that,” he whispered.
“Good.” Brent clapped him on the back. “I think I’ll tie you to the bed while wait.”
Donovan went along willingly and once in the bedroom, began to take off his shorts as he went. Brent glanced at him. “Oh you wore the jockstrap. Leave that on – that’ll make Raj completely crazy.”

Brent lay on the bed, watching Donovan take ropes out of the closet while talking to Raj on the phone. When he hung up, Brent smirked at Donovan.
“He is excited to meet you. And he wants you tied to the bed with a vibrator up your ass. So let’s get to work.”
Goosebumps broke out over Donovan’s body. He had a feeling he was going to like this stranger a lot.
_____________
Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

John was staying overnight at Ryan’s house. It belonged to Ryan’s parents, but Ryan and his younger brother Matt rented it from them together as they attended the same college nearby, two years apart. John headed downstairs to get a glass of water for bed when he discovered he wasn’t the only one awake. Matt was shirtless on the sofa, hand in his sweatpants. From his vantage point on the stairs, John recognized the Sean Cody porn playing on Matt’s laptop. Ryan had mentioned his younger brother was gay, but wow! Bold! He wasn’t even using headphones.

“Ah fuck!” Matt yelped. He slammed the laptop shut and covered himself with a pillow.
“Sorry, sorry! I just came down for water,” John held his hands up and glanced away.
“I didn’t realize you were still awake. Fuck. God, I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. I’ve jerked off to the same shit.”
Matt stared at John and watched him walk into the kitchen. “So you are gay. I’ve always suspected.”
“Suspected? I gave gay voice, can’t you tell?”
“I can tell, but barely.”
John took a glass out of the cupboard. “Then you should have guessed.”
Matt had his gaze fixated on John. “Does that mean we can fool around? I’m so goddamny horny. I was texting with this guy I met on campus tonight, but he ghosted me.”
John chuckled as he filled a glass from the water dispenser in the fridge. He glanced at Matt over his shoulder. “Well, unfortunately, I’m also a bottom, so I don’t think it’d work out.”
Matt barked out a laugh. “Oh honey. No no no, you have it all wrong. I may be lithe and femme, but I’m definitely not a bottom.”

John froze mid-sip when he heard this. He hadn’t caught a nervous freshman jerking off in the living room at one in the morning – he had walked into the den of a hunter and become prey. Despite Ryan sleeping upstairs, John was ensnared. He felt helpless; this was too tempting to walk away from. He had to know if Matt was telling a lie just to get laid.  

John soon learned Matt was in fact telling the truth – he definitely was not a bottom.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

jahboni:

Zane was taking thirst traps in front of the mirror, because frankly the vapid validation on Grindr and Tiktok made him feel better about the bad day he had. Suddenly, he heard a noise.

Zane paused the music on his phone playing from the bluetooth speaker and tilted his head like a confused puppy. Someone was knocking at his door. It was nearly 9 pm. Zane pulled on a pair of athletic shorts, grabbed his phone, and wandered into the living room. He set his phone on the arm of the couch, and checked to make sure the baseball bat was leaning against the wall next to the front door of his apartment. He cracked door cautiously, sticking out only his head.

Zane was expecting to see one of the random drug addicts that roamed around this neighborhood at night, or his nutty cat lady neighbor who kept asking if he’d seen cats that had escaped. She had like ten and most of the time, they hadn’t escaped, she just couldn’t find them in her apartment amongst all the clutter. But this was a new face (Hispanic? Filipino?) of a young man in a puffy jacket he filled out well. Beanie. Tight fitting black jeans. Late 20s Bit of an emo vibe.. He was fiddling with something in his hands, which were clad in fingerless gloves. Zane assumed it was probably his phone.
“Hello? Can I help you?” Zane opened the door a bit more. The cold breeze gave him goosebumps and made his nipples harden.
The young man’s eyes widened; he almost looked panicked. “Uhhhh. Yeah um. Are you Zane Truman? I found a wallet today, the ID said you lived at this address.”

Zane’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit. I did, yeah. I’m not sure when I lost it, but considering I took public transit today I assumed I lost it there- thought it was a goner.” He held out his hand and the young man passed the wallet over.
Zane turned his wallet in his hands in disbelief. He opened it. His credit cards, ID, and cash were all in there. “Wow,” he murmured. The wallet seemed like an illusion; things like this never happened to him. “Thank you so much.”
“I’m happy I could get it back to you.”
“I can’t believe you actually brought it all the way out here to this sketchy party of town.” Zane took some bills out of the wallet. “Here please take this.”
The young man held up his hands. “No no, not needed at all. I don’t want anything in return.”
Zane furrowed his brow. “Nothing?”
“Nope. Nothing at all.”
“Damn. Guess there are nice people left in the world,” Zane said half to himself. He put the bills away.

The young man didn’t reply. He was looking at Zane’s tattooed body and legs, eyes half focused. Zane raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat. The young man snapped to attention. His face turned red. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”
“No, it’s ok, I don’t mind when people stare at my tattoos.”
“No, I mean, it’s just-,” The young man shifted his weight between his feet. “I think I recognize you.”
“Oh from where?” Zane asked, perplexed. He’d never seen this guy in his life. “From um, Grindr?” the young man squeaked.

Zane couldn’t help but laugh. It was his turn to blush. “Oh my god. Are you serious? My shirtless bathroom selfies are coming back to haunt me?”
“I mean, they were good pictures…”
“So, yes. I don’t remember getting a hit from you. Did you message me?”
“Me? Nooo I would never have a chance, you’re way too hot to respond to someone basic like me.”
Zane put his hands on his hips. “Now that is nonsense. For one, you’re cute, and two, I’m a slut and love attention from any man no matter what. I would have definitely shamelessly flirted with you.”
The young man tried to stammer out a response.
“What is your name by the way?” Zane asked.
“Alejandro,” he said.
“Alejandro.”
Zane leaned back and grabbed his phone off the couch. Grindr was still open. He did a search to see who was in the area and found Alejandro with ease. With a grin, he sent a message. “If you don’t have to rush home, you’re welcome to come in for a bit.” Alejandro had an inkling of what he was doing and yet, he was still surprised when his phone dinged. He pulled it out of his pocket and giggled nervously as he read it. “I mean, I don’t need to be home right away tonight,” he wrote back.
Zane smiled as the message came through. He lowered his phone and stepped aside. “Please do come in.”
Alejandro gaze’s lingered on Zane’s chiseled tattooed torso, drifted down to his abs, and followed the dark trail of hair until it disappeared below the waistline of those shorts. Shorts that did nothing to hide the curve of what was held within.
Alejandro’s feet moved forward on their own, and he found himself in Zane’s apartment, taking off his coat. This was all completely crazy, probably the riskiest thing he’d ever done! But the more he stared at Zane, the more Alejandro wanted a reward.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

dolerme:

ibrahima kone by joaquin burgueño for mordernroad magazine

I rub his back as he finishes vomiting into the wastebasket.
“Dinner didn’t go down right last night?” I ask, although I know what’s really bothering him.
“No,” David grunts and spits. “Just – not looking forward to brunch.”
I curl my fingers and run my nails gently down his back. “There’s still some water on your nightstand.”
David looks at it as if he’s forgotten it’s there. He swishes his mouth out and spits it into the plastic-lined bin. He sighs.
“I know I sound like a broken record, but you don’t have to go to brunch if you don’t want to.”
“I need to. This is my sister’s first baby, my first nephew. If I don’t go, it’ll look terrible. My sister has been texting me that she’s excited I’m coming. It’ll be awkward if I’m not there, and I want to meet Obediah.”
“It’ll be awkward if you don’t want to be there and everyone can tell.”
David leans back against the pillows. “So I should go regardless.”
“No, I’m not saying that. Listen, it’s not your fault it’ll be awkward if you’re not there. Your parents make it awkward, by not accepting you and asking you rude questions about me, about trying to set you up with women. It’s their fault.”
“But Neil…”
“Nuh uh uh! Nope. Don’t start with that. Text your sister. Tell her that you don’t want your parents’ issue with your sexuality ruining the new baby party, and you will come over some night this week and cook dinner so you two can catch up.”
David stares at me. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
He waves his hand. “Just magically solve my problems.”
I chuckle. “My grandpa was a lot like your parents. I’m used to avoiding him. He couldn’t handle the gay.”
“You are very gay.” David thinks. “It could work. My sister loves my fried catfish.”
“See, it’ll work”
David picks up his phone and types out the message. I spellcheck it and he sends it. We look at each-other. “I think I may throw up again,” David says.
“Sweetheart there’s nothing in your stomach to throw up.”
The phone dings. I watch David’s face as he reads it. He smiles. I release the breath I’ve been holding. “She says she understands, and has been craving my catfish recipe and my fried okra. She said Wednesday night would be good.”
“Yay! See that worked out.”
“And um.” David holds up the phone. “She wants you to come.”
“Really?” my heart flutters a little.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me there?”
David plucks at the sheets. “Yes. It would be nice. I never get to take you to any family stuff.”
“I would love to. I’ll make a dessert to bring.”
“Fantastic.” David exhales in relief and his shoulders relax.

David sends a message to his parents and sets his phone aside. “Now that I’m not spending my day being passively aggressively shit on by my parents, what am I going to do with my morning?”
“I think we should go to brunch at Diamond’s.”
David lifts an eyebrow. “Baby, that’s expensive.”
“It is, but it’s delicious and you deserve it. Plus it’s Saturday so Topher is working. Let’s go to Diamond’s and gossip about the other rich gays over berry pancakes, cause I know you love that-”
He groans. “I do.”
“Then let’s go to the beach, get some sun, come back, clean up, have sex, and watch a movie on the sofa while eating mac n cheese?”
David smiles. “Why are you such a perfect boyfriend, Neil?”
“I’m not perfect.” I insist. “I just like being with you.”
“Yes you are.”
“Nooo.” I hit him with a pillow.
“Hey!” David laughs.
“I am not you silly boy. Now come on, let’s go shower so I can give you the handjob I’ve been wanting to give you all morning.”

David’s phone starts binging again. He winces and picks it up. “That’s my mom.”
I take the phone out of his hands and launch it across the room toward the laundry basket. “Neil!” David shouts in panic; it lands without a scratch.
“That woman is not going to succeed in ruining our morning.” I take David’s hand and pull him out of bed. “And she’s not getting between me and your dick.”
“Well when you put it that way, I find it hard to argue.”
“Good. Now get in here and brush your teeth so I can kiss you.”

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Captions are fictional.