Tag: gay sex

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by ccallenreese

His mom has gone to the store to pick up some extra things for dinner; his father could be home any minute. I’m over at his house, meeting my boyfriend’s parents over a three day weekend. We’re both in college and in love in the most stupid ways, and oh yeah did I mention we’re both horny as rabbits? The second her car pulled away, I push against him and we crash into the closed piano, kissing furiously.

Ours shirt go flying so we’re body to body, me grinding my erection against his thigh. He groans and reaches back to squeeze my ass hard, and when I say hard I mean he’s a pitcher on our college’s softball team. I gasp and jump up onto the balls of my feet and he snickers, nipping at my lip. I cup his neck and stroke his beard with my thumb as we fence with our tongues. Right when I’m distracted with his firm boner against my groin, he guides a wide hand down the inside of my jeans – I never wear underwear – and he then slides a finger right into my ass. I squeal at the intrusion and inhale a sharply, my cheeks flush pink as I sense a wet spot in my jeans.

“You bastard!” I hiss.
He grins at me and pushes it in deeper, “You know my dad could be home any minute… wanna go fuck on my childhood bed? I have Batman bed sheets.”
“Oh baby, you make me so wet. Batman bed sheets? Let me pinch the tip of my cock shut, the cum is just leaking out!”
He throws his head back in laughter. “This is why I love you.”
I smile. “I love you too. Now fuck me or I’m going to greet your dad hard as a rock.”

By the time we hear the garage door open, we’re struggling to rebutton our pants and waft the bedroom free of that sex smell. We catch each-other’s sheepish gaze across the room, and in that moment, I suddenly know that I’m gonna marry him one day.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

hunkdude:

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.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

We’ve spent twenty minutes wrestling for the dominant role in our apartment and the fight is nearing its end. I had him pinned once but he quickly flipped me over – bastard is a lot stronger than he looks. I haven’t given up protesting that I can win this thing but he’s already moved me into position to breed me. He’s using his muscular thighs and pelvis to hold my legs open and leave me vulnerable to his cock, the tip of which is dripping its hot pre-cum onto my public hair and groin

He sees his chance and pounces on me, seizing my mouth with a kiss. This declares that he’s won the right to penetrate me. One hand of his traverses up my side and gives me full body shudders. I weakly protest my loss by pushing up on his bicep but he’s already frotting against me. Oh, who am I fooling? I’ve lost. I will have to submit to his cock and let him claim his prize, not just now, but whenever and where-ever he wants until another challenge is initiated or until one of us moves out.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

After three hours of edging, Rory’s cock is the hardest it’s ever been. His balls are firm and he desperately wants to cum. It’s a curse though, because after he’s cum hands free Jason is going to lock him up in chastity for two weeks. Rory tells himself that despite how badly he desires it, he won’t come; he’s never been able to climax without being touched. Should be easy. That is, until Jason mounts him and drives his cock right into his g-spot over and over.

What technique! Rory’s head spins while his cock twitches and bounces in response to being fucked in quick thrusts. It seems to go on forever as Jason has record stamina. He barely pauses to re-lubricate twice. An alpha male he can come whenever he needs, so when Jason decides it’s time he grabs Rory’s waist and sheaths his cock with the boy’s ass as hard as he can. Rory cries out in helpless frustration as it triggers his first hands-free orgasm. He watches the seed drip to the floor with a look of trepidation and fascination. He doesnt want it, yet it feels too incredible to stop wanting. Unable to stroke his own hot cock without falling over and unable to stop the inevitable lock-up, Rory is completely at Jason’s mercy. Maybe he won’t notice…

“Oh Rory, look love, you’re so horny you just came everywhere when I fucked you. Let’s lock you up now so you’ll always associate the click of a lock with your first big accomplishment in freeing yourself from masturbation.”
Rory whimpers, “Y… Yes sir.”

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by ccallenreese

We were set to start painting the base layer on the walls in our new home when Reese joked that we should just do it naked to avoid getting paint on our jeans. I was more keen on that idea than I thought I’d be. After we’d thrown our clothes over a chair in the other room, we both returned to the living room and stood there, staring hungrily at eachother’s nudes bodies.
“So uh…” Reese grinned at me, “You know, since there’s a dropcloth on this floor already…wanna bareback?”

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Take off your pants Nathan and sit in the chair. I’ve been telling Mr. Lansky about the benefits of locking up husbands and he wants to see it himself.”
“B-but…” I stammer. Mr. Lansky is Sir’s boss! I’ve been so goddamn horny all day; I spent an hour just playing with a dildo… if anyone touches my locked cock, I’m gonna start dripping everywhere. I’ve been in that office a million times dropping off lunch. Sir knows how I am when I’m super horny…oh god, I can’t show my face in that office again if Mr. Lansky sees me in that state. Sir looks displeased. My blood runs cold when I realize that if I infuriate him, he might just give me a spanking in front of Mr. Landry. That’d be even worse since spankings often trigger ruined orgasms.

I work my jaw a few times but can’t come up with a good response. I surrender and strip off my loose pants. I’m not allowed underwear. My cheeks feel hot as this is frankly humiliating. I sit but with my hands covering my cage, my gaze on the floor.
“Shy isn’t he?” Mr. Lansky chuckles.
“Nathan.” His tone makes me flinch, “Hands up. You’re embarrassing me in front of Mr. Lansky.”
I have a feeling I’m going to get a spanking later anyway. With a sigh of resignation I lift my hands up and hold onto the back of the chair. Sir pushes my legs apart so Mr. Lansky can get a full view of my locked cock.
“Wow…” he breathes. I try not to squirm under his gaze, “What a marvelous job you did here, Mr. Anderson. A good shave job, and he fits so perfectly in that cage.”
“Go ahead, touch it.”
I whimper.
“Shush Nathan. Don’t make me get your gag.”
Mr. Lansky reaches out to cup my very full balls and I can’t help but moan involuntarily. I’ve been locked up for 70 days by this point and every touch makes my cock swell in its plastic prison. I’m horrified by how much I hope Mr. Lansky will fuck me although I don’t find him physically attractive at all. 
“His balls are such a lovely shape…taut and inflated like a little balloon. When was the last time he came?” Mr. Lasky’s rough fingerpads roam over my sensitive flesh.

Sir laughs, “Oh he’s not allowed to cum. That’s the joy of it! The cage prevents erections and orgasms, so my husband is constantly aroused. When Nathan and I began dating, our sex schedules never lined up which was frustrating for both of us. Nathan naturally submits to me though, so it was best to just lock his cock up and stop giving him access to it. Whe went from having sex once or twice a month, to now he’s so desperate for a fucking that he begs me for it.”

Mr. Lansky is still caressing me. My eyes flutter and I roll my hips into his hands. He sneers at me in my unraveling state, “Very horny. Doesn’t the spunk get built up though?”
Sir rubs his thumb over my lower lip, “He drips mostly, which is really lovely. Once in a while I’ll milk him with e-stim because his muscles will release his seed without giving him an orgasm. By the time he’s cum, he’s so incredibly horny that he tries to climb into my lap to ride my cock. He never used to like anal so much but he’s accepted it’s how he gets any pleasure.”
I realize my cock started to drip long threads of pre-cum during Sir’s explanation. I look at Sir who is smirking at me. “See? He’s my little slut now. Any touch at all just makes him leak.”
“That’s all it takes?” Mr. Lansky asks, still stroking. My cock is trying so hard to swell up that my foreskin has pushed out of the tip out of the slit and he’s been tickling it with his fingers. Oh god, it feels fantastic, pushing me right to the brink–!
My head is buzzing, only focused on one thing although some part of me is ready to cry with shame. “Please don’t stop …” I hear myself say, “I need to cum oh god I need to cum…” I whimper, bucking my hips forward.

Sir takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to Mr. Lansky to clean me up. “No, boy. I’ll fuck you later tonight.”
“Please …please now…” I pant.
Mr. Lansky speaks up, “I’d like to see that.”

Sir thinks about it. “Later. After dinner. Here, Mr. Lansky, I’ll show you the set-up we use when we eat out.” Sir’s boss finishes wiping me up then stands up and joins Sir over at the kitchen table. I can hear them talking as if I’m not right there. “See, I insert this plug up his ass and put it on a low setting…and he’s going to drip a lot though, so it’s best to put a pad into this pair of underwear to absorb it all. Oh and this…”
“What is that?”
“This goes around his balls, and it’s rather devious. It provides the tiniest of shocks to make it feel like someone is squeezing his nuts.”
“Does that hurt him?” Sir’s boss inquiries.
Since their backs are turned, I can’t help but turn my attention to my frustrated cock. I rub the base of it with my fingers and pull on the plastic sleeve to get just the smallest amount of friction.
“No, it feels really good. By dessert his panties should be soaked. When we get home, I’ll show you how eager he is in bed. By the time you get home tonight, you’re going to want to lock up your boytoy too.”
Mr. Lansky sighs, “Oh I already do. This is marvelous. …Hey what is Nathan doing over there?”
“What?” Sir Anderson turns his attention to me, “NATHAN! No. Stop touching it. Come here, let’s get you settled so we can put your pants on.”

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(ed note – any idea who the boy is in this photo?)

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Magnus was a tough motherfucker. He drank Everclear straight, with a little maraschino cherry. He preferred the rest of his liquor on fire. Over half his wardrobe was made from hides of animals or raw denim. He favorite band was Die Toten Hosen and he listened to Rob Zombie to calm down. He was also hairy as a bear, built like a brick shithouse, and prickly as a cactus due to casual shaving habits. For a profession, he worked as a welder. Of course, at the time I didn’t know any of this. I just knew him as the resident loner at the bar.

His hyper-masculine presence repelled even the bikers as they all thought Magnus was trying to over-compensate for insecurities in his sexuality. No one wants to offer their asses to someone with baggage included. The giggly fags and twinks avoided Magnus because of the asshole-destroying bulge in his pants.

When I got up my courage to sit next to him, I was surprised to find him making an origami frog out of receipt paper. He didn’t acknowledge my presence until he finished it and made it ‘hop’ toward me. I couldn’t help but laugh at how clever it was! I compelled it in circles with much amusement.

It was on. I ordered one shot for myself of the rubbing alcohol Magnus was drinking and held up a finger to him to suggest he wait a moment for the explanation. I paid and folded the receipt in a very simple cup. I proudly poured the shot into the paper creation and served it to him. He clapped his hands together with this ear to ear grin, even pausing to take a photo with his phone before throwing the drink back.

I bought a beer and asked my new friend for the pretzels on his far left side. He paused in thought, then asked the bartender for a piece of printer paper. She had to run to the office to get it but she got a tip out of it. Magnus turned his back to me so I couldn’t see what he was doing. After a couple minutes, he swiveled the chair around and presented my pretzels in their own little paper box container. I was completely smitten with him. He was harmless as a teddy bear!

There was no way I could compete with his advanced origami skills though so I pulled out my trump card, which was something I learned from an old lady on an airplane to Florida: the ol’ napkin rose. I even got one of the lesbians sitting next to us to spray it with her travel sized perfume. I presented it to Magnus in an over-exaggerated gesture and he played along, pretending to be overly flattered to receive it while tucking it into the pocket of his leather jacket. Out of another pocket came a pen and he wrote something on the back of the frog and made it hop over to me again. It was his phone number.

I called him the next day. Our first date was at the roller-derby. The second was a football game viewing party at his sister’s house. The third we went to an amusement park; I got a kiss that night. The fourth I suggested we pick up lunch from a BBQ joint and take it to our local botanical garden as they were having a special touring exhibit with live frogs. That was a hit too. By the evening, neither of us wanted to leave so I invited him back to my place. After one glass of wine, the simmering intimacy hit a flash point.

Clothes went flying. Shoes landed yards away. The corked bottle tumbled to the rug under the coffee table and rolled under the TV stand. I barely had time to find a condom and lube before Magnus was on me and smothering me with his full lips. I couldn’t help but reach between his legs to stroke that monster of a cock. Mine was pretty boring at four inches. I had no idea if I could take such the girthy, veiny thing but hell I was going to try for his sake.
We stumbled our way over to the sofa. There, I knelt backwards on the cushion and tugged on his arm suggesting that he fall on top of me. Magnus hesitated for a moment then pinned me to the cushions with his weight. He was wearing a musky, vanilla cologne that drove me into a frenzy. We rocked our slick members against eachother, French kissing furiously, until both of us were horny enough to ride this climax to the top. I handed him the condom left on the arm of the sofa. He accepted it warily, turning it between his fingers, contemplating it. That wasn’t normal. I furrowed my brow. What was wrong? Did I misinterpret the signs?

“Do you not want to do penetration?” I asked, my voice neutral but breathless.
“I do! I do..you’re incredibly hot but…I just…”
I noticed his massive erection was wilting, “Communicate with me Magnus,” I pleaded.
The bear of a man darted his eyes to the floor and then handed me the condom back. The frustration was maddening, working out his non-verbal cues through a fog of arousal. I set it down on the coffee table, watching to see what he’d do.
“No no …shit I’m …” he stammered, cheeks red. He picked up the condom and lube and handed them to me, his eyes pleading with me to understand what he was too shy to say.
I looked at the supplies in my hands, then back up at him. It dawned on me in a flash. He wanted to bottom. Foolish me, I had just assumed that because of his bulky body mass and machismo that he was a top! Guilt flooded in my chest when I saw the hopelessness in his eyes. Poor baby, he expected me to say no. How many times had he been rejected by men caught off guard, more interested in sleeping with a stereotype instead of the man?

Hell, this was awesome! No one ever wanted me to top cause of my cock size. I ripped open the condom in one motion and Magnus’s eyes went wide at my reaction. “Get on your back,” I demanded, shoving him backwards onto the sofa cushions. The power gave me an incredible sexual surge. I aggressively smacked and squeezed his balls, “Get that big, gorgeous erection back up for me, I want to us to cum together.” It hardened immediately under a few good strokes. The expression on his face was one I will always remember – gratitude, mixed with anticipation and bliss.

Since Magnus rarely got what he needed, his ass was virgin tight. It took me close to twenty minutes to stretch him enough to get my sticky head in his hole. God, is that I looked like under my partners? Helpless, horny, a mewling mess of sweat and skin and pre-cum? There was so much blood in my cock at this point that I felt light-headed.

I fucked Magnus in a crescendo fashion, patiently at first so he could adjust then faster and faster. His body just ate me up! I was almost regretting spending so much time on foreplay, there was no way I was going to last long and I never wanted to pull out. The orgasm arrived out of nowhere to knock us off our axises. Magnus bellowed out this guttural roar and ejaculated so hard it hit his ear. I buried my cock inside that perfect ass and filled the condom to capacity. We rode out the rest tangling tongues and exploring with our hands. When we parted, I was alarmed to see streaks of tears down his cheeks.
“…Magnus?” I whispered.
He gave me an exhausted little smile, “It’s been four years since anyone fucked me like that.”
I rocked against his prostate and made him gasp. “Tell me, Magnus, can you fold us another condom out of receipt paper?”

Gallery
by ccallenreese

I love this part of the morning when Vaughn’s cock has woken up but his mind has not. His cock is trying its best to obtain its morning wood and swells painfully in its plastic confines. He’s been locked up for a week now, and now every morning leaves him more maddeningly frustrated than the last. I listen to him moan and hump the bed for an orgasm that will never come.

Vaughn used to hump the bed often in his sleep and ruin not only the sheets, but any chance of sex before breakfast which is my favorite. Something had to be done. He of course protested surrendering use of his cock to me, but I can tell he loves being horny for me all the time because it means we have more sex. A lot more sex. When I tell him he’s gorgeous riding my cock like a champion, he just drips like a faucet. That mental image makes my erection throb. Enough of this farce. I lubricate my cock and crawl onto the bed to mount that big bubble butt. He’ll feel better once I’ve fucked him and reminded him of his role in our relationship.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

It’s just past dawn, almost 6 am. He looks over at me to see if I’m awake. I am barely, but enough to see him attempt a trace of tired smile. To say we’re both exhausted is an understatement. It’s been three months since we ran away from home together. Both of us wanted to stay in West Virginia but after the incident with the baseball bat and the car fire, we knew we had to go.

We spent the last month harvesting cranberries in Wisconsin and two months in Michigan harvesting apples and working on an organic pig and chicken operation working sun-up to sun-down until our backs ached and arms cramped. The fatigue may never leave us.

Winter is almost here. We’ve been hitch-hiking for four days now, racing ahead of blizzards. Last night, we befriended a lady truck driver that hooked us up with a free motel room here in rural Minnesota on the border of the Dakotas. Sleeping in a bed again was fantastic, even though it was freezing and there were mice in the walls. Before this, we slept in a shelter, on a heating vent in a park, and in a manager’s office trailer at a construction site.

The nice woman we met is going to pick is up in about an hour. There’s jobs waiting for us in the next state over – me, hard labor for a fracking company, and him as a parking attendant at a ski resort. We’re excited. It’s going to pay well. In the spring, if we have enough money, he’s talking about getting his EMT or white water rafting training certificate… me… I don’t know. I don’t even have a GED.
I also don’t know if we’re going to survive a winter in North Dakota. I don’t know if we’re going to make it to Oregon. I know, I know, everyone runs to Oregon. He’s been obsessed with making it there ever since he learned about the Oregon Trail in middle school. Westward, he says, is where home is. One foot at a time, or in our case, one mile at time.

I comb my hair as I watch him brush his teeth. There isn’t much to eat around here. I make some coffee. I discover apples, mini cereal boxes, and milk cartons in the lobby. We feast in our motel room while watching cartoons like little kids. We might be constantly near broke and desperate and crazy, but as long as we’re with each other we would be happy digging ditches. I look at him with a spoon in my mouth. He smiles fully this time. “We have a good fifteen minutes until she picks us up”, he says, “And one last condom.” I blush. “15 minutes? Is that enough time?” He says it is. It is.

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[ed note – the man in this photograph is Bartek Borowiec, a Polish fashion model famous for his stunning red hair and natural androgynous beauty. Most of his photographs are artsy and saturated as a quick search shows, but once I saw this picture, the story wrote itself.]