Found this on Vimeo – it’s a highlight reel of Patrick and Scott’s wedding from 2011, two years before gay marriage was legalized in Minnesota. Watching this made my heart swell, especially when they were dressing each-other. Even though I sometimes write about couples in love, nothing I write will ever be as sweet as the real thing.
A talented cocksucker with a loose throat. Adore it when subs get a good grip on their top’s balls and squeeze. Who really has the power here?
After months of fumbling towards elation, he was finally on the doorstep. We were rubbing each other through our pants. Visions of flesh on flesh, of spearing him at both ends, sprinted towards a door marked, “Your next man.” Bagging him seemed as close as his engorged cock, separated from my hand by only a thin layer of cotton. I moved in for the kill, leaning over to kiss him on his ripe, open mouth.
He pulled back. “I can’t deal with this.” Without another word, he stalked out, slamming the door behind him. Closing time on shopping for the straight boy roommate.
After a couple of hours, he came back. We didn’t speak for 4 days. Shame didn’t bloom or throw images into my psyche; wine spilled on a tablecloth was just wine. I wasn’t sorry. He had flirted with me, throwing glances promising body heat. He knew he was pretty and used it.
Friday came, and when I got home he was sitting in front of the television, the image of sullen pride, wounded by an evil homosexual. I went to my bedroom and got high. I wasn’t about to let him spoil my weekend.
Like firecrackers, he shouted, “Come here! I want to talk to you!”
Expecting a scene, I walked back into the living room. He was on the floor by the window, shirtless, pants pulled down past his white underwear. His hands were on the sill. He looked dangerous, threatening in his desire. The stubble on his jaw, the dark hair in his armpits made him look devilish—full of mischief and impure thoughts.
”I want to deal with it now.”
Relieving the pup.
(Lol – you can tell this was set up for photoshoot. The hydrant isn’t in the ground, it’s painted silver, and it’s shot indoors. Why do a piss scene indoors?? Only poorly trained pups wet the floor inside.)
lockedndenied-deactivated201609:
Well … I hope I remain locked’n’denied the remainder of my days.
Cleaning hasn’t been much of an issue .. I chose the right design I believe. and shaving is a bit problematic but I do an admirable job.
Now all I need is a man to keep my holes used.
Love how sure of himself he is and how committed he is to his proper chaste state. Should have no shortage of men lining up for that ass.
We nuzzle for a moment, trying to calm our racing hearts. His firm hand over my pectoral reassures me, yet I am surprised by how much I’m aroused by from held down by him. He’s my first boyfriend although I’m a senior in high school. I’ve never been nude or shown my cock to any one else before besides the doctor. My parents are out of town for the weekend, so it’s just him and I and a house to ourselves. It’s time. He dips his head and kisses me, sending a zap of electricity down to my toes. “Are you ready?” he murmurs.
I nod.
He straddles me and rests his body on top of me, still clothed. We rock together until we’re both erect and about to burst out of our pants. It doesn’t take long, it’s too exciting. When we’re both hard the shame of being nude slips away. I reach for the button of my jeans first.
“Mmn…no, why don’t you let me do that?” he offers, replacing my hands, “I want to see you first.”
I moan. I’m nearly certain I’m going to ejaculate early. It takes him but one minute to unzip my pants, tug aside my boxers and expose my cock to air. The second he wraps his trembling hand around my shaft, I come everywhere, little fireworks flashing in front of my eyes. I cover my face with my palms and groan in embarrassment. “Oh god, I’m so sorry…I’ve ruined this haven’t I?”
“No no… that’s normal. I can get it back."
"You can?”
“Mmmnnn…” he unzips his own pants and discards them with his underwear so he’s nude from the waist down. I can’t help but stare. He’s not as long as I am, but it’s a big thicker, and slightly curved. My heart races as he returns to his original position, laying on top of me. The second his flesh touches mine, the entire world goes upside down. I seize his arm as he grinds against me. I might just pass out it feels so good.
I can’t stop grinning because I’m 99% sure he’s dozed off back there. Apparently when I make risotto and stand here to stir in the broth, I become a piece of coral to latch onto for habitation. He came up to snuggle me about five minutes ago and now his breathing is slow and peaceful. Could he be any more precious?
A peaceful Sunday home with the husband. He almost died last year when a tornado flattened his house with him in it. He spent six weeks in the hospital and lost his left foot. Sometimes it’s just nice to not do anything but watch and appreciate that he’s here with me. His heart plods along under my hand and his scalp warms my thigh. These are the moments when I love him most. It scares me sometimes to think what my life would be like if I had to attend a funeral instead of a wedding. We are lucky.
Linea alba.
“I dunno CJ…. I mean…you’re going to laugh. I’m going to disappoint you. Last week someone at the gym snickered at me…”
I should be listening with intensity to his concerns and soothing them, but holy hell how is he so oblivious to how hot he is? The lights reflecting off the water trailing down his warm freshly scrubbed flesh highlight every curve and bump and groove. His skin is utterly flawless – I can tell he waxed recently. That adorable Spanish accent of his is making my heart thud too.
“Salvadore…” I coo at him, “I told you. I love men. I don’t have a standard that I use to rate boyfriends. Big cock aren’t always better. They’re harder to suck aren’t they?”
His deep brown eyes flicker up at me then back down at the towel, “You have to promise you won’t laugh.”
“I promise.” I hold up my hand in a scouts-honor.
He bites his lip as if having an internal conversation with Jesus, then emits a little sigh, “Alright. But don’t laugh.”
I smile. His sculpted arms relax and the damp terrycloth is pulled from his fingers to the floor by gravity. The back goes first revealing a luscious and pert ass just as brown and glistening as the rest. My mouth waters as I crave sinking my teeth into it. Fuck he is too gorgeous for his own good! My eyes wander to his exposed genitalia and drink in the sight as my own cock swells. Sal’s penis is small, maybe two and a half inches if you stretch it out. Just enough skin covers the tip. His balls are obscenely round and each about the size and color of a lychee with the texture of grape skins. I moan involuntarily. It’s…well, lovely in how minimal and tidy everything is hanging there. Not an excess wrinkle or hair or bump anywhere. Perfection. “Oh Sal…” I murmur, now erect myself.
“….You’re not laughing.” He looks perplexed.
I can’t help but giggle at that. His accent makes him sound a bit petulant. It’s endearing, “Sal, love…you’re beautiful.” I try not to gasp at how fast he flushes. His cheeks, his tears, even his pectorals turn a sweet shade of pink. “I must have you,” I breath. I step forward and place one hand on his sternum while my other cool hand cups his balls and cock in my palm. He gasps. It’s like wrapping my hand around a cup of freshly poured tea.
Sal exhales softly as I fondle him, eventually resting his head on my shoulder. His bangs leave a damp impression on my shirt. I massage the underside of his balls with my fingerpads while stimulating his head with the heel of my palm. Once the skin starts to react I rove my hand all over him, stroking and petting and squeezing until the glans emerges. Then, I scale back to just giving attention to the shaft of his cock with traditional up and down movements. Within moments, Sal digs his fingers into my arm, tenses, and emits a soft whimper in my ear while warm liquid fills my palm. It’s the single most erotic thing I’ve experienced with another man. My pulse is pounding, my throat dry.
I take Salvatore to bed and make love to him.
Orrin gazed at the door again and sighed, resting his cheek on the back of his hand. His boyfriend was supposed to be here nearly an hour ago. His relationship with Chad wasn’t going as he hoped lately. He forgave the slow replies to text messages. He told himself that it was ok if Chad didn’t keep his eyes to himself as long as he was monogamous. Last week Chad got so drunk that he accidentally left Orrin at the bar when he took a cab home.
Despite this, he still liked Chad though , at the heart of things. He had a fantastic body, a heart-melting smile, sharp wit, and had an opinion on everything. He was a magician on the grill, too. They even had the same major at school. Sure their relationship was a little rocky now, but Orrin was an optimist.
The young man checked his phone again. Over an hour. It was his birthday today, and Chad hadn’t given him a card or called or anything. Orrin had told himself maybe he was planning something. When the morning turned into the afternoon without any contact he’d sent Chad a text message: “Did you remember it’s my birthday today? I have a present here for you, you should come claim it.” Chad actually did respond to that one, “K. I’ll come over when I can, babe.”
Chad had been pestering Orrin for penetrative sex since day two of their relationship. Orrin thought his plan was excellent…he could get sex on his birthday, give Chad what he wanted, and perhaps afterwards they’d talk and repair their relationship. Emerge from the bedroom a better couple.
When the clock hit an hour twenty, Orrin received a new text message back: “Hey babe. Not coming. Sorry, I went home with someone last nigh and haven’t left. I can’t really afford to get you anything for your birthday tomorrow anyway. See you around.”
Orrin gaped at his phone. What? No! It wasn’t supposed to be like this! He furiously responded, “You…you can’t break up with me on my birthday!”
“Well your birthday is tomorrow isn’t it?”
“It’s TODAY.”
“Oh…Sorry it didn’t work out.”
This isn’t how it was supposed to be! Orrin threw his cell phone into a pile of laundry. He dropped his underwear he was holding, feeling stupid and embarrassed and ugly. Then, he buried his head in his arms and cried. It felt like there was no one left in the world to love him. This was the worst birthday ever.
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The model is named Den Wok.