Tag: gay sex

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by ccallenreese

I intended to drop the mail on the counter, but missed it entirely and it all scattered on the floor. “Woah JJ, what are you doing?”
He whimpered; when he spoke his voice was honeyed and sultry, “I want you to fuck me…please. I’m so horny, I can’t stand it any longer. Been thinking of you all day, in those hot suits you wear. I worked myself over with my fingers but I’m so frustrated.”
“Jonas you’re my roommate surely you have a boyfriend…”
“You’ve fucked five different guys this week and I hear them all through the walls, why don’t you want my pussy?”

I exhale slowly. I set my briefcase on the floor next to the mail and loosen my tie. Why have I never noticed how cute his butt is before? I can see his hole twitching from here. He’s been fucked before and needs it again.
“But it’ll change our relationship as roommates. After this you’ll just be one of my conquests…is that want you want?” I ask, cupping his left asscheek in my hand. JJ arches into the touch like a cat, complete with a low purr.
“I’ve been wanting you since day one! You’re the alpha of the apartment…you’ve fucked in every room but mine. Fuck I want to be one of yours…please, I’m begging you, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”
“Just a fuck?” I repeat
“Yes just a fuck please! Nothing more, just your cock please!”
I lingered a moment then unzipped. JJ groaned in anticipation. After I located a condom and lube, I pushed his face into the pillow and gave him the rough fucking he wanted. All that fingering had opened him up and my cock fit snugly into his writhing body. He pulled me in, created this vacuum. I was still in my work clothes because I thought this would be quick, but JJ made it last. Sweat began to form around my temples from pounding him so hard. The orgasm was secondary to him; what he needed was to be taken.

It took a couple of strong, jack-hammer thrusts to trigger his orgasm. JJ’s body went vice tight around me, his wet dick I was stroking gushed fluid all over my hand.The pillows muffled most of his cries. I bent over and bit into his shoulder as I filled the condoms, pushed up balls deep against his body.

After we spent our seed, I listened to JJ pant as if he’d just run a mile. Once my lungs caught up, I slide out and examined the mess while I tied off the condom. “You’re a better fuck than you look.” I set the condom on his ass, then without another word, I pick up my briefcase and went to my room to set it down and have a shower, leaving JJ to bask in the after glow.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

You don’t realize how many holidays involve drinking until you’re trying to avoid them. Even the casual pool party is full of beer. A nice date night almost surely involves wine. Spiked eggnog cor Christmas, champagne on New Years, it’s ubiquitous. St. Patrick’s day is probably the worst as it’s synonymous with DUI checkpoints, green vomit, and cringe-worthy flashbacks about comments you made to that one hot redhead.

Normally, I try to keep busy with projects but there just wasn’t anything this time around. I found myself pacing around the house. I wanted to go out to a bar, have a drink, play pool, flirt with cute Irish boys from across the pond. Just one wouldn’t be such a backslide right? I knew myself though, one would turn into two, two into four, four into 4 am.

I was pacing around the bedroom, trying to push the nicotine-strong craving for booze out of my head and chewing my nails when my boyfriend came home.

“…Baby?” Ben called out, wandering the house until he found me. He was relieved to see I was here, but when he saw my face his clouded up. “Hey Tad, are you alright?”
I huffed loudly and sat on the bed, “Nothing it’s just… ” I raise a hand and then let it fall to the bed. “You know.”
He nods. “The craving is back?”
“Like a beast. Fuck, I can just taste it… like, I can smell the bar and everything.”
Ben stands in front of me. “Cause of Saint Patrick’s Day, huh?”
I nod miserably. “Just one…I just want one…”
He takes my hands in his own. Ben’s been my rock in all of my recovery, and when I plead like this, what I’m really asking is for a distraction. I never expect him to say “fine, only one” and he never, ever has.

Ben kisses my forehead. “How about-” he pushes me backwards and climbs on top of me, straddling my waist while discarding his shirt, “-we stay in, instead. Save us the money we’d waste, and fuck.”
“Mnnn I do like fucking but…you’d finish in a couple minutes, then what?”
The corners of Ben’s lips slide up into a Chesire grin, “Whaaat about if I bottom?”
“…You’re in the mood to bottom?”
“A rare occurrence but yes. And you know how tight I am, could take a while to loosen me up. Maybe a shower first?”
I grab his hips, slide my hands over his bubble butt. “That could take a while…” I agree.
He arches over and kisses me. I can’t help kissing him back. He’s incredibly convincing shirtless, I’m not sure if it’s his nipples or his pecs or what. I pause to inhale some air. “But…but what about after?”

“Well, if we do it right, you’re going to be exhausted, thinking of my hot body instead of a bar. I like to think I smell better anyway, even after sex.”
I snort.
“And, Tad, I thought after we cleaned up, we’d make one of those English breakfasts you love so much for dinner and have a picnic in the living room.”
I look at Ben’s hopeful face as I fiddle with his short strings.

“So… I can either go out, drink too many beers, get sick, hungover, and have to deal with your guilt tripping me the next morning, potentially ruining our relationship; or I can stay in, fuck my hot boyfriend who rarely ever wants to bottom, and then watch him make my favorite meal wearing only an apron? Man, that is a hard choice.” I smile, squeezing his ass with both hands.

Ben grins before he bends over and ravishes me with kisses again. “Your cock has already made the choice I see…”
I huff air through my nose. “Thank god I have a separate brain in my dick that knows what’s good for me.”
“Thaaank god,” he agrees, relief and pride all over his handsome face.

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Text is fictional; the man on top is Jake Bass, the man on bottom is Tommy Defendi. Thanks to annamartinwrites for the names.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I stop dead in my tracks when I walk into the bedroom; he’s obviously on the edge of heat. I watch him writhe in silence on the bed while I undo my tie. “Hmmm….you…want me to do laundry?”
“No!”
“Give you a spanking?”
“Noooo!”
“You …like the new sheets I bought?”
“ARG! Get over here and fuck me!”
“mm no I’m not sure that’s what you really want.”
“Why are you torturing me?” he whimpers.
I begin to unbutton my shirt. “Because…I think you want more than a fuck. I think you want to be tied to the bed, edged, have your balls smacked, and then slowly slowly fucked until you go crazy. But I just can’t tell.”
He keens out into the pillow. “Fuuuck yeah I want that.”
“Mm still not sure.”
He gives me this murderous look, then stomps to the closet. He returns with the rope, a paddle, lube, a feather, and vibrating dildo and dumps them all on the bed with a huff.
I grin. “Oh noooow I understand. See, why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”
He throws a pillow at me. “Get those pants off or I’m taking them off.”
“Tsk tsk…bossy bottom. Do we need to get you a gag too?” I ask.
“Oh you are so infuriating!”
“Yes, but you love me. Now, be a good boy, and finish undressing me.”

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Text is fictional. The gif I think came from peterfever.com.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I love my man. We just had amazing sex. He was frustrated from work, I was bored and horny from being home all day – no college classes today. We went right from dinner to the bedroom. He was tender to me, careful not to hurt me, but at the same time tempestuous and domineering. I love post-sex cuddles, but he’s biologically programmed to pass out immediately after. At first I resented for this, blamed him for spoiling the mood, but I was a fool.

Even though my balls are empty, my head is a fuzzy mess still running on the last smoldering embers from our lovemaking. Turns out I wanted nothing more to just lie here and enjoy him in a private way. To be honest, I find it a little bit sexy that he just passes out like this. It’s so feral and masculine, the way he just dumps his seed and goes to bed now that his important task of claiming me is finished. Big man like him needs his rest so he can go back to supporting us tomorrow.

Yes, I’m truly content to just rest here next to him, listening to him breathe, watching his chest expand with each breath. He has a beautiful body and a great butt, but as a bottom I only see it in the shower. Despite his swagger and confidence, he is secretly nervous about how bottoms see him, especially those that become lovers. He gets defensive and shy when he catches me ogling him in the bathroom or when he changes. He obsesses over his weight and the perfect balance of “bulking up” and “ketoing”. Since he’s unconscious, I get full insider access to him without the risk of him getting skittish and bolting like a deer in the road.

I had a thought the other day during one of these cuddle sessions, when I was caressing and exploring the terrain of his tree trunk thighs – that it’s almost like getting to see the workings of a great machine. Under this gently curved skin are the thick cords of muscles that allow him to fuck me the way he does. Sure his big dick is what prods my prostate and makes me gasp, but those toe-curling thrusts are all due to the power of his muscles and tendons expanding and contracting around his bones.

I stay up sometimes an hour or more, falling in love with every tiny little part of him that works behind the scenes. The knuckles of his fingers allow him to grip my aching cock. His eyelids keep his dark brown eyes moist. His stubby toes allow him to dig into the mattress and get some real traction. Each little vertebrae in his spine flexes so he can bend over me and kiss my cheek while starting his thrusts. So many little parts of him… I wonder if I’ll ever learn them all, but there will be many more nights like this – he’s horny, I’m horny, he passes out. I find this thought comforting.

When I say I love my man, I mean it… I love the man, every single thing about him.

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Text is fictional. Boys are Kris Evans and Marcel Gassion of Bel Ami.

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by ccallenreese

“Come ‘ere. Come..come here.”
He walks over to me but doesn’t kiss me. I put an arm over his shoulder. “What are you doing here in your underwear at 6:30 in the morning?”
“I miss your penis.”
“Have you slept?”
“No.”
“You’re not on the drugs again are you?”
He snorts. “No…I just…can’t sleep, you know. Keep thinking about it. They say when you quit drugs, when you quit smoking, you have to substitute it for something else. I realized, you know, halfway over here…I thought that’s why I wanted your cock, you know, oral fixation? Cause I have this crazy urge to suck you…” he rambles, still not looking at me. I let him think and after a bit he continues.
“I just realized it was the other way around, you know? Cause I wouldn’t let myself have you, so I just propped myself up with the drugs. It’s gone now and those feelings they’re still there. Just CJ I miss you… I miss you naked, the way you feel on top of me, the way you fill up my hand, the taste of you on your fingers. Take me to bed, CJ…please…”

I cup his face in my palm, “Don’t mistake being horny for being in love, Jack.”
“I can’t tell the difference,” he sighs.
I nuzzle him, I can smell the sleep on his skin. “What do you plan to do when you’ve come, and the feeling is over, and you feel sticky and embarrassed and wanting a cigarette hm? Will you just take my cum and leave?”
Jack’s head is still tilted down, like a guilty puppy, but he is looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t make me leave. Everything in my apartment smells like pot and drugs.”
“You really want my penis?”
“…and your balls… I liked to play them in my hand, when you’re half asleep.”

We both look up as my roommate walks in the kitchen and pauses dead in her tracks. She’s wearing a bathrobe, hair all frizzy, a big owlish look on her face. “Um, am I interrupting something?”
“Oh nothing, Sarah…we were just uh, going to bed. Don’t mind us.”
In my ear, I hear Jack heave a huge sigh of relief. “Yeah, sorry…don’t mind us.”

He pulls me off the counter and we escape to my room.

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by ccallenreese

gayboykink:

That handprint on his butt tells you he’s been a naughty boy.

“Come on no one’s looking!”
Dean was a terribly naughty boy. He had the prettiest, cutest little cock for miles around and he knew it. He played with it all the time, even in the backyard, when the neighbors could hear. His dad would give him a spanking for misbehaving, or neglecting his chores, but it would turn him on even more and so he’d come next door looking for me. He’d sashay over, nibbling on his thumb, the tip of his cock peeking out of his underwear. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He also knew it put me in heat like nothing else to jerk off his underwear and see a fresh red handprint on his ass. I would tease him by tapping my dick against his buttcheek and he’d just moan anyway, just because a man was paying attention to him. When I was properly dripping, I’d lube him up good and just slam it home. Dean loved it hard, he loved his prostate being hammered relentlessly, he liked to feel the cool air against his wet cock as it bobbed between his legs. My favorite position was just to stand there buried in him as I shot my load in him, our bodies pressed flushed together, sweating together.

My favorite memories of those summers aren’t school football games, sneaking out to be with girls, drinking too hard at underage parties… no, most of those favorite memories are of fucking Dean against the wall of his parent’s house and holding his spasming cock as we came together. He was such a loud little thing too.

I know, I know what you’re saying, that was horny and dumb and I took advantage of him. I think I was protecting him, really, there was no shortage of rougher bigger men that would have wrecked his pussy before he was 25. By claiming him, and being the source of what he needed, I gave him a wonderful youth of debauchery and hedonism.

Even though we don’t live anywhere near eachother now, sometimes I still think when I get the mail, I’ll look up and see Dean walking up to me…straining in his underwear, and nibbling on thumb.

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Text is fictional.

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by ccallenreese

Sev and Igor come from a rural village where they have a strange tradition. Upon reaching 20, two men of comparable size will couple to strengthen the bond between families and to erase any simmering grudges from their youth. They determine which one bottoms by grabbing onto eachother’s cocks; first one to smile or laugh loses. Since they were away from home at college when they both turned 20, they only had eachother to complete the tradition. I was a bit worried how our frat would feel about this homo-erotic practice, but they were all in favor of cultural sensitivity. They got into the spirit of things by placing bets. Igor lost. I bet for Sev and made out like a bandit.

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Text is fictional; source is Randy Blue.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

The boy knew his role was to serve his man and be available for him whenever and where-ever he wanted it. He knows better than to inconvenience his Sir by saying ‘no’, and he would be a fool to spurn a man who has selected his ass to claim as there are so few masters as so many horny bottoms. No matter how humiliating, he must show respect and hold his cheeks apart to provide easy access. His Sir also loves watch his throbbing cock slide in and out of his boy’s body. It pleases him tremendously to see it and to have a boy so consistently obedient.

Those hands were supposed to stay that way until his Sir came and he was never allowed to touch himself without permission… Sir said it was conditioning for when the chastity device arrived. At first the boy was anxious of what that meant and resented the idea, but he began to look forward to having something between his sensitive, frustrated cock and the teasing, tickling fibers of the rug.

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Text is fictional.