Tag: gay relationships

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

As he put away my coat, a bing came from the kitchen. “Ohhh the roast is ready.”
Before I could say anything my houseboy jogged back to the kitchen, his pert butt bouncing behind him. I followed him there. “Henry, what is that smell?”
“Roast chicken,” he replied, matter of factly. “I put a lot of butter on the potatoes this time cause I know you like that.” He pulled out an impressive looking dinner and set it on the stove.
“Damn, that looks amazing. But no I mean, the other smell. It smells like a candle factory exploded.”
My boy pulls off his oven mitts and blinks at me. “Ohhh that.” He moves to the cabinet and begins to make me a vodka cranberry. “It’s spices. I thought since we live in a climate where we actually get seasons now that it would be appropriate to get into the mood of things.”

“Things…?” I repeat.
“You know, fall! Autumn! Pumpkins. Pies. Cinnamon. Apples. The leaves outside are turning colors! Here’s your drink Sir.”
I accept it, and sip it. “Thank you, boy.” I enjoy watching him move about the kitchen, fussing over the chicken and setting the table. “So you lit a candle?”
“No Sir, I had to change the air filters so I rubbed a mix of cinnamon and allspice and cloves on them.”
“How did you come up with that?”
“Well they were at the grocery store, but they were expensive, so I just decided to do it myself.”
I stare at him. “Well that’s quite intelligent.”
“Is it? Thank you Sir.” Henry frumps around with making gravy. “You know, I was thinking, why don’t we have a little house warming party?”
I nearly choke on my drink. “Boy, I don’t think that’s a great idea. People are avoiding me at work because I was upfront that I was gay. I just moved here, I don’t want to ruffle any feathers.”

Henry pauses and tilts his head. “Forgive me for saying this Sir, but I think having a housewarming party would be even more useful this way. Perhaps the people you work with aren’t used to ‘homosexuals’, or whatever they call us. It’s a perfect opportunity to show them that you’re a normal person, you live in a normal house, have a normal life. We don’t have a dungeon in the basement… well, yet. Plus, I’m a damn good cook.”
I smile. “That you are. You know, you might be right.”
“Ooo that means I can decorate the house. I could carve a pumpkin. Make that cinnamon apple cake I like… god I love parties.”

I set the drink down on the kitchen table and sink into a chair. “Come here for a moment, Henry.”
He sets a serving spoon down on the counter, wipes his hands on a towel, and walks over to me. “Yes sir?”
“Sit on my lap, boy.”
He lifts up the apron and straddles my thighs. I give him a kiss on the lips and squeeze his ass with my hands.
“God I love it when you’re domestic,” I admit, low and husky in his ear.
“Do you Sir?”
“I have no idea why, but it makes me want you. You just get this glow about you when you get into one of your moods…”
“Well, I am happy when serving the man I love.”
I capture his mouth with another kiss. My right hand moves forward, under his apron. I give his locked cock a proper tug, then cup his balls in his hand and massage them as I kiss him. Henry moans against me and grinds into my hand.
“You must really like buttered potatoes,” he breathes.
“Mmnn…I think I just really like autumn,” I say. “Are you prepared?”
“Yes Sir. I always lube up right before you get home, just in case you want to relieve some stress.”
“That’s a good boy,” I murmur. “Stand up a minute.”
He does so, so I can unzip my pants and extract my cock. I groan when the wet tip touches cool air. Henry takes over and strokes me with his hand, his eyes fixated on me. He’s flushed, but I can’t tell if it’s from cooking or from stimulation. When I’m breathing slow and properly stiff, Henry crawls back into my lap. He holds onto my shoulders so he can raise his ass up and position my cock in the right spot. I bite off a cry when I feel his body envelope me, a slow, tight heat around me, down to the hilt. I plunder his mouth again and push his waist downward so he’s sitting on my lap once more.

“God that’s it, Henry,” I murmur. He rides me, without even asking. I watch in fascination as his pelvis and hips roll while his shoulders stay mostly still. His eyes are glazed over now. I notice there’s a wet spot flourishing on the apron. Soon, I cannot stay still any longer and drive up into him. Henry cries out, begging me to keep moving. We collide over and over until he’s squeezing my shaft so hard I can’t even breathe.

I shout and explode inside of him. Henry whines, a loud needy noise, and then I feel something hot and wet pool through my work pants. I realized I haven’t breathed in what seems like forever and so I inhale, sharply. The world spins around me, and I cling to my houseboy. He is staring me with love all over his face, looking completely blissed out. I bless him with a few more kisses, then we slide apart. He looks upset at the loss, but enjoys playing with my softening cock after settling back down without it inside of him. My seed drips out of his hole and back onto my legs too. Instead of feeling filthy, I feel deeply possessive and horny again.

“That – that was a wonderful surprise Sir,” he says, his sternum heaving.
“Mnnnh…you were divine. Did I trigger something? You made a mess on my leg.”
Henry lifts up the apron corner. “I think you triggered a small anal orgasm, Sir…I felt like someone was blowing up a balloon in me and it popped and then it just felt wonderful. I feel so light.”
I smirk. “That is how it should be. That is the joy I give you.” I plant a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Thank you Sir, for that gift then.” Henry nuzzles my cheek. “I am afraid I have soiled your pants Sir.”
“You can scrub the semen stains out after dinner. I don’t think I can get up right now Henry, fetch me a clear pair of slacks would you?”

I watch in great amusement as a pouting Henry dismounts me and wobbles off like a baby deer, one hand pressed between those round ass cheeks. I sip my cranberry vodka and look over at the chicken roast. I must be the luckiest man in the world. 

As I sip, my thoughts drift back to that idea of a housewarming party. I like the idea more and more. I want every homophobe in that office to be jealous of what I have with Henry. I want them to see our chemistry, our happiness. I also want them to see hickeys. I swirl the ice in my glass. Yes, yes, for sure. I can hear Henry approaching with my pants. After dinner, after he’s scrubbed my pants and done the dishes, I will fuck him silly and give him those lovebites for the week.

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Text is fictional. I pulled this image from this post.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Jonathan arrived home promptly at 6:45. He came through the front door, took off his shoes, then went to find his Master. Master Kipling was in the bedroom, so there Jonathan kneeled and greeted him. Kipling acknowledged his greeting, then took out his cock to be serviced. Jonathan obediently sucked him until he climaxed, then cleaned his Master’s cock appropriately. Kipling enjoyed every second of it. He then commanded his boy to strip and dress in his proper pup attire for the evening. Jonathan was relieved to hear this, and with a sigh of contentment, removed his pants and restricting underwear. It felt nice to let his chaste cock have some air.

As he was about to unbutton his shirt, Jonathan heard a noise. His Master watched as his pup scrambled up into the chair to see better out the window. He was admiring his pup’s long feet and even toes when his pup began to whimper. Jonathan craned his neck and wiggled his butt, forgetting the tail plug wasn’t in. The whimpers intensified. His Master was about to ask what was going on when he heard it – the distinct jingle of an ice cream truck.

The whimpering grew to a loud, insisting volume and Jonathan looked at his Master with big pleading eyes. It was a warm summer today, just perfect for ice cream. His Master stared at his pup with an eyebrow raised, watching him become more and more agitated as the truck drew closer. Well, his pup had been behaving lately. He couldn’t think of a single reason to deny him his request. The blowjob had been deeply satisfying too.

“Ohhh alright boy,” he said, trying to hide a smile in his beard. “I’ll give you some change.”
Jonathan made a happy bark. “Thank you Sir!”
“Put on some shorts first.”
Jonathan quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tie, removing them and throwing them over the chair. He went to the chest where he kept his pup clothes and found a pair of white shorts he wore when in service. The ice cream truck was nearly on them now. Kipling dug into his pocket and found a five dollar bill. Jonathan kissed the back of his Master’s hand in thanks before bolting out of the bedroom.

He returned a short while later, looking incredibly pleased with himself, flushed from his sprint. He was licking a creamsicle and holding a fudgesicle in his other hand.
“Two…?” His Master asked.
Jonathan nodded. “For you, Sir. I know you like chocolate.”
Kipling blinked at him. “What a considerate puppy, thank you boy.”
Jonathan beamed and handed it over, along with the change. His Master patted the bed and Jonathan hopped up, snuggling up to his owner as they enjoyed their ice cream together.

When their treat break dissolved into a kissing session, his Master was glad he gave in to Jonathan’s begging. Kissing a creamsicle flavored puppy was like having dessert after dessert.

___________________________
Text is fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

livingundersexualthirst:

“Come up!" 

Pierre sat on the edge of the bed and stretched. Then, he heard a click. Then another click. He turned and looked at the window, and saw a pebble bounce off of it.

He jumped up and peered out. Lucas was standing on the sidewalk below. Pierre opened the windows. "Good morning Lucas! Nice to see you, but what are you doing here so early? You have class today don’t you?”
“I do but – I just wanted to see you. I was hoping we could make love before school started?”
“Shhh!” Pierre laughed. “The whole street can hear you.”
“I don’t care,” he said back with a smile. “I’m mad about you. Can’t stop thinking about you. Every curve of your naked body fills my dreams, I see your smile when I blink, and I yearn for the warmth of your skin when you’re not here. I woke up this morning craving you.”
“Awww….Lucas!” Pierre blushed a bright red. “That’s- that’s just so sweet. But, love, people can hear you, sshh.” Some strangers on the sidewalk had stopped to see what was going on.
Lucas didn’t seem to care. “Please allow me to see you this morning? To make love to you so I can pretend we live together and I am greeting you with the sun?”
Pierre couldn’t shake the goofy smile on his face. Even if his entire block was getting an earful of this, he still loved dating a top that was also a romantic. “Oh for goodness sake.”
“Come on down, Pierre.”
“I’m not wearing clothes,” he admitted.
Lucas laughed. “Now who cares what the neighbors think?”
“Well, they’re gonna hear us soon anyway! Come up, my bed is still warm.”
Lucas made a noise of victory and ran up the stairs after Pierre let him in.

Once back in the room, he wasted no time kissing the lad and letting his hands roam over his Pierre’s nude body. He was still warm from sleep, and Lucas wanted in him immediately. Lucas cupped Pierre’s low sac in his hands, massaging and pulling while he kissed his mouth. He manipulated and teased the boy until he’d forgotten all about those people gossiping on the sidewalk.
“Bed, Lucas, please,” he gasped.
Lucas tore off his clothes in a hurry and pulled Pierre back into his own bed. He ignored his own cock, more fascinated Pierre’s own. He parted the boy’s legs and put his tongue to work, lapping at the swollen skin and pulling each testicle in his mouth. Pierre was soon moaning and wrapping his legs around Lucas’s head. He pushed the tip of his cock through Lucas’s lips and thrust his hips forward, desperate for the sensation. Lucas put his hands on Pierre’s thighs and held him still as he suckled, getting him nice and randy while he slid a finger between the cleft of his buttocks.

Lucas parted his lover like a flower opening its petals, sliding two digits into his interior with just enough oil for it to not be too slick. Pierre cooed and swore at the wonderful sensation rippling outward. “Oh Lucas!”
“Shh shh…” Lucas lapped at the fluid beading on the head of Pierre’s little fat cock.
“Enter me,” Pierre pleaded.
“Not yet.” Lucas took his time to enter two more fingers and work them to stretch his lover.
When Pierre warned Lucas he might shoot at any moment, the fingers and lips withdrew. Pierre unbraided his legs and let Lucas pull himself. He dipped his head to kiss Pierre, then lifted his legs and pushed the tip of his cock into his body.
Pierre gasped and clutched the bedsheets.
“Relax sweetheart,” Lucas murmured. Pierre tried, but Lucas was misreading the situation – he wasn’t tensing because it was painful but because it felt so good to be full that he tried to clamp down as hard as he could. A reassuring hand massaging his stomach got Pierre to relax, and Lucas pushed the rest of his cock in. Despite the early morning hour, he was already sweating from the effort. 
“God I needed this, I needed this so badly. You’re the antidote to my insanity, Pierre.”
“Lucas, you will always be a little crazy, but I love you anyway.”
Lucas chuckle and kissed him. “Can I move now?”
Pierre nodded.
Lucas kept his thighs up and watched himself disappear in and out of that perfect lily white ass. “Yes… yes…oh god, Pierre, you feel fantastic. You needed this as much as I did.”
“Be quiet and fuck me,” Pierre demanded, in one of his rare bossy moments.
Lucas felt a growl of possession rise up in him. ‘Yes sir.“ Their lovemaking took an intense turn and Lucas took Pierre as hard as he could, pushing the boy up the bed and into the nest of pillows. Both ignored the open window, allowing their cries to spill out to shocked passerbys. Their fornication seemed to go on for hours, and even the most puritanical pedestrians had to wonder if there was something special about heathen sex.

Lucas demanded Pierre stroke himself, and his eyes darkened as he watched his lover pleasure himself as he stimulated him from inside. "Good boy… you are so beautiful Pierre.”
Pierre blinked at him, his eyes wet. “I’m going to cum!”
“Come with me!”

Their lips met at the same time as they peaked, spilling their cries of passion down eachother’s throats. Lucas dug his toes into the bed and emptied his seed into Pierre’s tight velvet passage. He moaned deeply as the climax came in deep, throbbing waves. Pierre whimpered as the tingly sensation in his balls became a knot in his stomach, then the whole thing turned inside out and suddenly his belly was splattered in cum.

They rested there, locked together, until both of their cocks were soft and spent, but even then Lucas didn’t want to pull out. He wished to stay in Pierre forever, and Pierre felt the same. They were panting hard, flushed and pink.
“Oh Pierre…” Lucas murmured. “Oh my sweet Pierre…god, you just unravel me.”
“You were right Lucas, there are few better ways to greet the day than being thoroughly taken.”’
He snickered. “It does feel good doesn’t it?”
“Mmnn…but you know, I never cared for this type of penetration until you.”
“Really?”
Pierre yawned. “Yes. Something about you…makes me just fly.”
Lucas gave him a fond look. “Oh Pierre, keep talking like that and I will have to marry you.”
He raised his head. “We can’t marry, the church won’t allow it.”
“Oh fuck the church!”
Pierre gasped.
“God created us in his image right? Then God must have put us on this course. If the church won’t recognize love, then that’s their own fault.”
“Lucas, when did you get so bold?”
“When I fell in love with you,” he admitted.
Pierre knew he could be won over with pretty words. He smiled. “Well if you want to marry me, do the proper thing and give me a ring.”
“Can I put it on your cock?” Lucas asked.
Pierre threw his head back and laughed. “Oh you and your ideas!”
“One for your finger and your cock then?”
Pierre playfully punched him in the shoulder. “Can you afford that?”
“I’ll make them out of bread.”

That sent Pierre rolling again. They continued laughing and touching for the next half hour, until grumbling stomachs and their ripen scents caught their attention. A bath and homemade breakfast capped off the morning. Lucas showed up to class exactly one minute late, a very smug look on his face.

__________________
Text is fictional.

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

dirudo:

what are cock rings for? is that how gays get engaged?

“It’s how subs get engaged to their Masters – you see, the ‘ring’ is a miniature version of a collar and symbolizes an official bond. There’s two kinds of marriage: the legal marriage certificate, and a religious ceremony. In BDSM, there is no official state or country recognized certificate of a bond between a Master and a submissive. Not all Masters have a romantic relationship with their boys, but those that plan to get married need a special engagement ring to signify their relationship is different than a normal relationship. A ring that goes around the cock signifies a special kind of marriage, a gift of the flesh and as well as the heart. And-”
“BOY, who are you talking to?”
“The – the internet Sir.”
“Are you making stuff up again?”
“No Sir. It’s real in my perfect reality, where subs and Doms can live their relationships out and proud and free. Where I can walk down the street in my collar and everyone will know that I am kept.”
“Love, as sweet as that is, you won’t ever be able to wear your cock ring out in public without getting arrested.”
His sub pouted. “I know, but it’s so pretty. I want everyone to know that I’m engaged to the perfect Master.”
His Master smiled. “You are loved. Now come on now, let’s not bother the nice people on Tumblr. Come to the dungeon, I want to play with you.”
“oooo Yes sir. Coming Sir.”

_________________________
Text is fictional. This is satire.

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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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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

gayboykink:

Gooooodmorning fellow kinksters.
Today I’ll be unlocked without bf’s supervision because of some sport matches and social activities. I should not forget to get back in chastity before bf comes back tomorrow morning or my ass will be in big trouble.
And no touching in the meantime of course…

Laid out like a banquet on a bed of satin. And yes, no touching. Don’t want to spoil the big reward now do we?

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

femme4masc:

In my clothes, I am yours.
In my jeans, in my oxfords and my t-shirts, I’m yours.

Naked in bed, I’m yours.
My ass is yours, my body’s yours.
When we’ve spent all day here, I’m yours.
When we somehow let both the sunrise and now the sunset see us like this, I’m yours.

When we start to smell stale and I get up for a shower.
When midway through you turn off the lights and join me in it.
When you put your forehead against mine and I stand there under the water rubbing your chest.
I’m yours.

When we go straight back to bed, fresh and clean, like we hadn’t just spent all day there, I’m yours.
When you take me in your arms and whisper, “My pussyboi.” And kiss me, I’m yours.

——

When you’re worried. When you’re sad. When you’re afraid.
When I don’t know how to deal with you when you’re down and I’m mortally afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing.
When I just want to be here, there, for you.

——

When I’m on my iPad reading, then ordering food, and you grab your old camera, I’m yours.
When you squeeze my buttcheek and I hear the sound of this moment being kept forever.
When I find the picture after you developed it and I see that you titled it on the back in a corner, with a black Sharpie, “08/30/14. Pussyboi. Mine.”

I am yours.

As long as you know it, I will be happy.

A rare porn poem from one of the more elusive writers on Tumblr

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“Sorry, he’s shy. He’s also worried you can see the chastity device on through his khakis even though you can’t.-”
He groans, “Babe why’d you tell him that?”
“-I’ll pay you for your time, don’t worry. We’re gonna get these engagement photos one way or the other. Come on love, face the camera now.”
“Mnnng. No.”
“Please sweetie? Do it for me?”
“But he can see it.”
“No he can’t; he doesn’t care. You’ve never been ashamed of it before. What changed? Come on you look so cute in purple.”
“You really can’t see it?”
I glance down at his crotch. “No love.”
He mutters softly. “Cause I’m straining really hard right now, and it feels huge.”
I chuff through my nose. “Well as hot as that is, you can’t see a single trace of it. The metal is doing its job; the underwear should catch the drips. Come on, we’re wasting this man’s time. Turn around. Aww, good boy, there we go. Smile now.”

_________________
Text is fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

When Billy came into the door, I saw in his face that something had upset him. His shoulders and posture were sagging and his eyes were red.
“Honey what’s wrong?” I put down my newspaper.
“James, some mean boys bullied me on the way to the train station.”
“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry.” I stood up and pulled him into a hug. Billy clung to me, pressing his lithe body up against my more substantial one. I removed his stylish hat and tossed it into the sofa. Underneath his cardigan, I could feel him trembling. “They called me a faggot, and said I looked like a queer, I should get hit by a train.”
I tensed and released a slow breath, seething. “I’m going to pick you up from work tomorrow, and you’re gonna start carrying mace. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“They scared me,” Billy admitted, his voice cracking.
“Ssh shh…I won’t let them lay a finger on you. They don’t deserve you.”

I sensed the hug wasn’t reaching him. “Here, I think this will help.” I gently pried Billy off, and began to remove my clothes. He watched me, curious, and did not protest when I helped him peel off his sweater and began to work the buttons on his shirt. It wasn’t sexual, we just casually removed our clothing piece by piece until it was in a pile on the sofa next to the hat. I wrapped my arms around him again and Billy eagerly reciprocated, pushing himself close against me to get his slim arms around my barrel torso. I felt fingers dig into my buttocks and his small member press against my thigh.

I held and rocked him, uttering soothing words. Billy hiccuped and spilled a few tears, dispersing them by nuzzling my shoulder. I was hoping that skin to skin contact would help calm him. Billy was a small man, and I wanted to be his big, strong rock. As long as I was around, he should feel safe and secure and grounded. After a few minutes of bonding, the trembling faded, his breathing slowed. I kissed the top of his head and he snuggled against the pelt of hair on my chest.

Billy worked at an art gallery downtown. I’d gone there to buy a piece for my living room and ended up leaving with a painting and his phone number. He was intimidated by me at first, but soon realized he got a rush out of being dominated and overpowered in the bedroom. It had taken some practice for him to accept a cock of my size. I in turn, became madly aroused at seeing it disappear into his small arse. I felt that would come later; sex would help him sleep the night. He wasn’t even hard now.

“Are you alright?” I asked, gently.
“Mmnnnn,” he replied back. “I like feeling all of you against me, and the sound of your heart beating. It was all fast before, but it’s slow now.”
“Because those men made me angry. Just – how dare they! What business of theirs is it who you are?”
“I think they’re scared of me,” Billy said.
“Scared?” I repeated.
“Yes… they’re scared that I walk with my head up and am not afraid to be who I am. They don’t understand it, they don’t understand me. They certainly don’t appreciate my excellent fashion sense either. So, they get scared and try to mask it by being mean.”
“Hm. In a way I guess that makes sense. We’ll have to confront of them sometime though.”
Billy sighed. “I don’t want to think about this anymore. I want to think about my naked boyfriend.”
I chuckle. “That is a good thought to be having.”
“Can I cook you dinner like this? Naked?”
“Naked?” I raised an eyebrow. “Well I can’t guarantee you won’t make it to dinner without me getting my hands on you.”
Billy looked up at me with a cheeky little smile on his face. “Well, we’ll see how long you last.”

I raise an eyebrow and squeeze his butt before he slips away, scampering off to the fridge with his cock bouncing between his legs. I mourn the loss of his body heat immediately, but I am mostly relieved that my Billy has recovered. The cruelty of the world outside the walls of our home can wait to be dealt with another day. I watch Billy bend over to peer into the fridge. I sigh. It’s ridiculous how much I am in love with him.

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Text is fictional. Source unknown.