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“See I’m right! I can clearly feel them. My argument that men have titties too still stands.”
Ramirez rolled his eyes and swatted Piechowski’s hand away. “They’re not titties, you man whore. They’re pecs, which is short for pectorals. They’re muscles. Titties have fat.”
“They’re a little squi-”
“Don’t.” Ramirez interrupted. “You dare.”
“Ooo I love when you use that voice. Gives me goosebumps.”
“God are all gay men as horny as you, ‘Chowski?” Warner finished tying his shoes and stood up.
“I think all men are horny. But this isn’t about horniness, this is about anatomy. Straight guys do not ever appreciate male anatomy, and you really should. Men’s bodies are so beautiful.”
“Straight guys appreciating men’s anatomy sounds pretty gay,” Warner replied.
“That’s not what the ancient Roman’s thought,” Piechowski shot back.
“If you want to appreciate anatomy, you should suck my dick,” Ramirez muttered. “My girl won’t give me a blowjob for anything.”
“Not even on your birthday last week? Does she let you do anal instead?”
“No!” Ramirez answered.
“Bro. You’re getting scammed.”
Piechowski snickered. “You guys are hilarious. You negotiate with your girlfriends that you get the one sex act you like once a year?” He laughed. “Why on Earth.”
Warner cracked his gum. “Oh come on, gay boy, you act like finding a partner who does everything you want is so easy.”

Piechowski smirked. “Oh no. We play a different ball game. I have a boyfriend, but when one of us wants to do something the other doesn’t, we just …go get it. My boyfriend loves the details.”
“What? How is that safe?” Warner responded.
“As long as we’re tested and using condoms, it’s all fine. Hell, sometimes we bring that third person over to watch or play with together. No positive tests yet.”
Ramirez raised an eyebrow. “None of that happens.”
“Sure it does.” Piechowski picked up his phone and did a voice text. “Hey babe, would you mind if I gave this hot guy on my team a blowjob? He hasn’t had one in a year.”
Warner grinned. “I have to see if this works.”
Piechowski’s phone binged. He held up the response: “Honey, give him two, it’s a charity case at this point. “See? Told you!”

Warner gave Ramirez a playful punch in the arm. ‘Haha you hear that, the gays think you’re a charity case!” He snickered.
Ramirez glowered at him. “I am not.”
“Well if you want a blowjob, I’ll be on short stop for a while and the lockers later,” Piechowski winked and jogged out to the field.
Ramirez watched him go. “Am I insane that I’m possibly considering his offer?”
Warner looked at him. “Yeah. A little. Also how do you give two blowjobs at once?”
“I think he just means like you get two. Like an IOU thing.”
“Oh. Makes sense.”
“Hard to say no to that. But from a guy…?” Ramirez made a face.
Warner cracked his gum again. “Eeehhhh. I mean, I think if it was an ass versus a vag, it’d be a dealbreaker. But like, a mouth’s a mouth right? If you close your eyes, it’d feel like the same thing I think.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that Warner.”
“Well. I’m an opportunist. If you don’t want your second…shame for it to go to waste, is all I’m saying.
“He gave two to me! I get to decide what to do with them.” Ramirez insisted.
“Oh look who is possessive now,” Warner teased.
“I am not possessive!”
“Don’t get your titties all twisted now.”
Ramirez punched Warner in the arm.
“Ow!”

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Captions are fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Getting your first kiss at the Spring Church Picnic will always be memorable… you sure hope nobody comes to check on why it’s taking you two so long to put away the sports equipment. You wonder how on Earth he can be the lacrosse team captain, a Prom King nominee, a top art student, and be such an excellent kisser on top of this. His lips are softer and yet firmer than you ever imagined them to be. He smells like grass and sweat mixed with his own, making your cock stir and your pulse quicken. Your cheeks feel warm, and you get goosebumps as slides his palms over your shoulders. You never want to stop pressing your lips to his, and with each kiss you get hungrier…and hungrier.

When he pulls away, he’s panting too, staring at you with glazed eyes. You can see the panic under them.
“…Sorry, was that…I mean… I don’t know where that came from,” he offers, wiping his lower lip.
“No no, it was nice,” you stammer, messing with your shirt hem. “You uh…want to do it again?”
He smiles a sweet, mischievous smile and looks around. “Yeah I do.”
“How about now?”
“…Now is good.”
And he leans in again.

You don’t even dare ask what he’s going to do about his girlfriend, but you have a feeling he doesn’t kiss her like that.

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Text is fictional.

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“I don’t know if I can go through with this.”
“Why, what’s a matter, baby?”
“I’m too nervous to meet your parents. I just- I mean everything has been going so well, but I’m gonna fuck it up somehow and then they’re going to hate me.”
“They won’t hate you. I’ve talked about you to them before. They want to meet you, they keep pestering me about bringing you over. It’s just a barbeque, not a state dinner.”
He sighs. “What if they bring up my stint in rehab? How am I supposed to answer that?”
I reach over to hold his hand, entwining our fingers together. He latches on to me with a strong grip. “Just tell them you don’t think it’s really appropriate to be talking about that now, but if they have questions they can discuss it later with you in private. Besides, you’re completely clean and have been free from drugs for years, you should be proud of that. Both my parents have done stuff in their youth that was questionable anyway. They shouldn’t bring it up.”
He sighs again, squeezing my hand still. I rub his thumb knuckle with my own thumb for reassurance.
“Ok, I think I’m gonna be ok. They’ll like me, and it’ll be great, and I’m freaking out for nothing.”
I tilt my head. “Is it really so important to you that accept you?”
“Yes!” he hisses. “Cause you’re important to me. This relationship is important to me. I want our families to like each other, and well – I still have pretty low self-esteem from my flophouse days. Their approval of me also goes a long way in reassuring me that you’re not too good for me.”
“Aww baby,” I coo. I lean to the side and kiss him. “I love you, and that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me. Well the fact you’re so serious about this means that you’re good boyfriend material..”
“You mean it?”
“I mean it.”
He pauses a moment. “Ok. I’m ready.”
I press another kiss to his cheek, then knock on the door before letting myself inside. “Mom, Dad, we’re here!”

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Text is fictional. I couldn’t locate the source. It looks like it came from a movie.

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I watch with big eyes, my throat dry, as his full heavy sac bounces and then tenses to spurt the seed out of his red and engorged cock. The way the skin slides up and down around the exposed tip is my favorite part. Love a boy with a fleshy cock, lot of extra space for him to get big and hard. Privately, I also love the way he moans when he cums and his eyelashes flutter. He’s a young stud in the sexual prime of his life. Masturbation like this is a necessity.

After he finishes, I cup those velvety balls and roll them in my hands until he’s too sensitive and asks me to stop. I drop my arm. The pants go back on. I take out my wallet and press two $20s into his hand. 
“Same time next week?”
“Yes,” he puts the money into his pocket.
As I refold my wallet, I glance at the photos of my wife and kids in the plastic sleeves. They can never know about this, about how it keeps me faithful to them. I’m just worried one day the handjobs won’t be enough anymore…and the craving for gay sex will return.

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Post is fictional. This is Kris Evans of Bel Ami.

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I lift the camera up as I film the hypnotic show of the stranger sucking on Luke’s cock like it’s the last penis in the world. Luke grins at me, laughing a little, “I can’t believe we actually picked up a prostitute on 34th street!”
“How’s he doing?”
“Fook! He’s amazin’! You wun’t believe how god this feels! Keep filmin’ filmin’ I wanna remember this burthday forever.”
“Right mate! Of course! Yeah suck that cock, boy!” I shift the camera to my other hand and let the tape roll.

It goes on for another hour – blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, sex. Then we collapse in the back of his van on blankets and pass around cigarettes and beer in glass bottles. The boy was paid generously.

Five years after this, Luke was killed in a car accident when an out of control lorry struck his van. We took a lot of video together, of our trips, our stupid foolish exploits around the UK, holidays, birthdays, nights at the bar, even trips to the dentist, the grocery store. Out of the entire stack of tapes, this one is him with the prostitute is my favorite. He just looks so incredulously happy, so alive. I watch it every year on his birthday and wank one out in memory of him. We were odd friends, but it was the most solid friendship I’d ever had. I miss him dearly. I never watch the tape of his funeral.

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Post is fictional.