Tag: hook up

by ccallenreese

vallentiro14:

Toby wiggled the cabinet door. “Yeah, this is off balanced for sure. The hardware wasn’t mounted properly.”
“Mounted? That’s the right word?” I ask as my eyes trace every curve of his back and shoulders.
“Yep. It wasn’t mounted properly.” Toby grins at me over his shoulder. “Pretty easy fix. This whole cabinet is wonky though. Who put the spice rack way up there?”
“I dunno, but that’s where it goes apparently.”
“Can you even reach those spices?”
“Not well,” I admit as I ogle the beginning of his crack peeking out from his jeans.
Toby studies it. “Probably installed that way due to the tile backsplash. Who-ever installed the cabinets over the backsplash was a silly person. Who designed this kitchen?”
“No clue, I just moved in here.”
“It’s very silly. Nice range though. Gas?” Toby pulls up his jeans.
“Yep.”
“Well that’s good at least. Not a fan of electric.”
“Toby?” I ask.
“Yes?”
“Are you wearing underwear?”
He flashes that grin at me. “Nah.”
“That’s not uncomfortable?”
“Nah. If I’m not working, I’m fuckin, and vice versa. When I got a man in my sight, underwear just gets in the way.”
“Man.” I repeat.
“Yep. Not real interested in women. I’mma go get my drill and fix your cabinets ok?”
“Y-yeah, sure. One more thing Toby?”
“Yes?”
“Do you take tips?”
Toby cracks his gum. “I sure do. Doesn’t always have to be monetary though…”
“That’s what I was hoping for.”
That perfect grin again. “Fucking excellent. I like you. Welcome to the building.”
“Thank you. Remember my unit number, I have a feeling you’ll be here a lot.”

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

vallentiro14:

Huh. I think these are Mark’s, and this pair is Donovan’s that he borrowed me from and never returned last year. So Mark wears the same brand of underwear as I do? What are the odds. I tossed them to the side and leaned back in the chair. Man that was one wild party last night. I think I slept with that guy sleeping on the pool raft. I still wonder what his name is? Actually I should go wake him up. The way the sun is moving he’s gonna get super burned. I stood up with a groan. Going back to bed was starting to sound like a good idea. “Hey…hey hot stuff.”
He didn’t move.
“Hey dude, you’re gonna get sunburned.”
He groaned and shifted on the raft.
I sighed. He was gonna fall in. I shucked off my underwear and walked into the pool. Bit chilly, but felt nice. I swam over to him on the raft. “Hey buddy, good morning.”
“MMhhnnnnnff,” he said.
“You fell asleep on the pool raft try not to fall off.”
He blinked at me blearily. “I did?”
“Yeah.”
He looked around. “Oh.”
“You’re gonna get sunburned, come back in the house.”
He considered me. “Hey are you the guy who fucked me last night?”
“Yep.”
He grinned. “Can I sleep in your bed instead?”
I resisted the urge to push him off the raft at his cheesiness, but he’d probably be mad at me and then I wouldn’t get laid again. “Sure thing. Let me show you where it is.”
The stranger slided off the raft into the pool. “Ee that’s chilly!”
“Aw, don’t tell me your dick has shrunk into uselessness,” I teased.
“Hey we don’t need my dick for sex. I should be asking about yours.”
“When we get upstairs you can tell me if it needs to be warmed up enough.” I smacked his butt as he got out of the pool.
“Ooo aren’t you frisky. Sounds good to me!” He yawned. I yawned too.

We dried off with a random towel and made it upstairs to my room, side-stepping men passed out on various pieces of furniture. I’d locked my bedroom door so the bed was empty. We didn’t have the energy for frantic sex. I just rolled on top of him, mounted that bouncy butt, and gave him a few good thrusts until we both came. Neither of us got up; we both fell asleep again, not waking up until the sun was properly in our eyes. And to my astonishment, his hand was already feeling up my cock. I began to wonder who I picked up last night and if he was related to the Energizer bunny.

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Captions are fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Wow.”
“Wow…what?” Ari sat back on his knees.
“Most of the men I’m sent to sleep with don’t kiss me like that.”
“Like how? Bad? Good?”
“Good,” Daniel insisted. “It was nice. Deep.” He smiled.
“Oh.” Ari messed with his tie. “I just was wanting to do that, but I can’t during sex cause you face the other way.”
“Yeah that’s usually why there isn’t a lot of kissing. Everyone flips me around and gets down to business.”
Ari stroked Daniel’s thigh. “You can sleep here as long as you want. Check out is at 11. Order some room service on my tab ok?”
Daniel smiled. “Wow a good kisser and generous? I got lucky with this one.”
Ari did blush a little this time. He let his eyes roam on Daniel’s torso; they lingered on his hip and Ari reached out to graze the little tattoo with his fingers. “Daniel are you like…safe, with these people who send you to me?”

Daniel looked surprised. “Safe how?”
“Like…they have you marked like a cow.”
“Oh.” Daniel looked uncomfortable. “I can get that removed one day. But like, Ari, trust me, you don’t want to talk about this.”
“I…don’t?”
“No. Because in my life, this is the good outcome.“
Ari didn’t know what to say. He glanced down at the bed. He suddenly felt ashamed of the privilege in his life, the private schools he hated going to, the business schools he went to on his parents money, the brokerage firms that paid him huge salaries….
“Hey,” Daniel said firmly. “Look at me.”
Ari raised his head.
“Don’t pity me. And don’t feel guilty? Ok? I’m alright with how this all turning out. I’m housed, I’m fed, I get medical care. I got plans. I got savings. And I get laid regularly by some of the richest men in New York. I get to keep all the presents I get, you know? It does have its perks. Like nice boys like you who are sweet in bed, and offer me room service.”
Ari smiled. “I’ve been wanting to get you a gift for a while, I just didn’t know if I should.”
“Room service is a gift! The guys who send me here monitor how much carbs I eat. I’m guessing this hotel has waffles. And man do I want waffles.”
Ari chuckled. “Alright. No pity. No guilt. I’ll call you again soon. Lord knows I need the human contact from someone other than bankers.”
“Definitely not a banker.”

Ari leaned in for one more kiss. He slid his hand under the sheet for an opportunistic squeeze. “I’ll see you soon.” He reluctantly got off the bed, grabbed his briefcase, and left the hotel room. Daniel knew Ari was going back to his apartment – took risky to be seen leaving a hotel in the morning. This late at night it could be passed off for drinks or a client meeting. Daniel hoped Ari got to eat waffles this morning. Seriously, was there anything better for breakfast? Better than waking up to a cock in your ass like the guy last week, that was for sure.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

vallentiro14:

“Bwuh?” JP rubbed his face. “Where – where am I? Who are you?”
Chris turned. “Oh hey you’re up! I thought you’d sleep through the night. You passed out at the festival. You seemed to be alone so I brought you home.”
JP stared at him. “Is that why I still feel drunk?”
“Yep.”
”Where’s my phone?”
”Charging.” Chris gestured.
JP blinked slowly. “Who are you?”
Chris pouted a little. “You don’t remember? We were grinding together on the dance floor for like an hour. My name’s Chris. I was wearing bunny ears.”
“I remember bass music that wouldn’t quit. And I remember a very hot guy with an ass that wouldn’t quit and wanting to be alone with him,” JP slurred.
“Oh you do remember me then!” Chris winked. “Bravo. Here let me get you some water. And an aspirin. You need to sleep this off.”
“I …uh, I should go home..” JP tried to get off the sofa and fell off immediately with a thud. “Ow.”
Chris shook his head. “Honey you can’t stand up. Here.” He helped JP back onto the sofa. He was heavy and strong. “Oof, ok big boy.”
JP splayed out on the pillows. “My hero.” He smiled.
Chris tried not to flush. “Just helpin out a fellow raver. Stay there, I’mma go get you water.”
JP just waved at him. The room was spinning. He watched Chris walk out of the room. That ass was like hypnotizing him. He was drifting off when Chris came back.
“Pedialyte. Aspirin.”
JP took them immediately. “I’m gonna go to sleep now. You’ll be here in the morning?”
“Yes sweetheart, I live here.”
“Good.”
Chris waited a moment. JP was staring at him. “Anything else?”
JP smiled. “You’re pretty. And I do like your ass.” And then he rolled over and went to sleep.
Chris blushed again. “Well. What a nice piece of dead weight you are.” Chris hoped JP would remember everything in the morning. His life would feel unfinished if they never got to fuck.

JP’s phone chimed. Chris went to look at it. There was another message from JP’s roommate Laura. “Is he doing ok still?”
Chris unplugged the phone and carefully used JP’s thumb to unlock it. He responded. “Yep. He woke up for a moment, so I gave him some electrolytes and an aspirin. I don’t think he’s gonna puke. Just needs to sleep it off.”
“Awesome. I’m going to bed now, but you can call if you need to. Thanks beautiful stranger!”
Chris smiled. “You’re welcome. Sweet you care about your roomie.” When Chris had plugged in the dead phone earlier, he’d found Laura’s panicked texts about how JP hadn’t come home after the dance festival ended.
“Of course. JP just went through a bad break up and this festival was supposed to be him celebrating being single, so I’m lookin’ out for him.”
“Oh he celebrated all right!” Chris responded.
Laura texted back: “LOL he sure did. Ok thanks, sleep well, good night~”
Chris wrote back a ‘good night’ message and put the phone back on the charger. He glanced at the hunk sleeping on his sofa in flamingo-printed shorts and digested this new information.

JP was single, gay, cute, and clearly hadn’t been laid in a while. Oh the odds were so very good that he’d get laid tomorrow morning. Chris liked those odds a lot. He did a little dance as he went to his room.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

vallentiro14:

Vic gazed out the window. He glanced at the cash in his hand again. Dan had paid him 20% less and hid the smaller bills in the larger one. “Hmmm. Yeah. I’m going to blackmail him ” Vic snapped a photo out the window with his phone that showed Dan in profile and saved the condom from the trash.  “He’s the band’s tour manager…this has to pay well.” Vic felt conflicted though. He loved the Death Arrows – hell he’d driven 3 hours to see their show- and knew that negative PR would impact them. But if that guy was undercutting him, what was he doing to the Death Arrows? Vic wondered.

It had been a fortuitous coincidence to run into Dan at that bar near the venue. Vic recognized him from the band’s Instagram photos. Now Vic was also wondering if Dan was there just to pick up fans… gross. The guy did ask Vic how old he was. Well, Vic thought, at least I got some money out of it at least. Paid for gas and some of his hotel room.

It took Vic a couple minutes to find who managed the Death Arrows, and to locate a phone number for their office. Vic glanced at his watch. Check out time was soon. No rush. He went to take a shower. He’d grab some lunch and place the call before his drive home. He’d spend the shower imagining what to say. Before he got into the spray, Vic snapped a selfie in the bathroom showing his back in the foggy mirror; his round ass cheeks were peeking over the counter.

Vic opened Twitter. “Went to see the Death Arrows, got picked up last night after the show by a tour guy who ripped me off! Been a fun adventure Tacoma. Oh so much fun.” Vic posted it and smirked. Now the stage was set. What was a good Death Arrows lyric for this situation? Hm. Oh yes. “Sometimes it’s little bit fun to be a little bit bad.”

_______________________

Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

vallentiro14:

“Dude, are you crazy? I wouldn’t take money to sleep with you. I don’t need money, remember we just had this conversation about my dad? Kind of insulting you’d think of paying me like a prostitute or something.”
Craig leaned against the counter. “So it’s settled then. You’ll let me fuck you for free.”
“What? That’s not what I said!” John insisted.
“Yeah you said you wouldn’t take money to sleep with me. It’s gonna be another hour until Brad gets here to sell you weed, so yeah you got an hour to kill and I’d love a free fuck out of a walking pair of abs like you.”
John snorted. “A walking pair of abs? Jesus dude you need new material. And I never agreed to sleep with you.”
“What would be your price then? The threshold of how much money it would take to let me fuck you.”
John looked at Craig. “$10,000″
“Not $15k?”
“Wait.”
“Or $20?”
John thought about what to say.
“There’s a fun bit about the human brain.” Craig chuckled. “There’s definitely a difference between not enough and too much, but if you try to find the actual numerical line of where it crosses over it’s nearly impossible.”
John furrowed his brow. “Yeah I guess. But in this case, there a limit to how much you can pay right? How much you have, could borrow, etc. I could just keep going higher until you run out of money or decide it’s not worth the cost of it.”
“That’s true. But I asked you what it would cost to fuck you. I didn’t ask you to find the value of your ass in my budget – unless you’re concerned about that, which means you’re considering.”
“I am not considering anything!”
Craig laughed. “Right.” Craig scratched the inside of his thigh which made his cock move in his shorts.

John’s eyes darted down, and then back up. He cleared his throat. “But if I charged you, I’d be obligated to provide a service. With standards. And like there’d have to be taxes and probably a business registration or something.”
“True. You’d be mine to do with as I pleased -with some restrictions of course – until the time agreed has expired. I could fuck you as many times as I wanted.”
“Unless it was just for one fuck, one nut.” John pointed.
Craig smirked. “I always nut twice when fucking. Guess I won’t be hiring your services then. Knowing you, you’ll bill me for the overages.”
“Man you are rude.”
Craig laughed.
“Wait, can you really nut twice on one erection?”
“Yeah. I get like halfway soft and as long as I keep thrusting into a nice, hot warm hole, I just get hard again and cum again. I’m a seed machine.”

John considered Craig. “That sounds kinda hot…hate it when guys just like pump and dump it you know? Like three fucks and they’re done.”
“Yeah they’re basically just using you as a cumdump at that point. You’re supposed to share the ride to the orgasm together and play off each other.”
“Exactly!”

They looked at each other.
“So, what’s your price?” Craig asked with a grin.
John thought. “How about you just pay for my weed?”
Craig clapped his hands together once and pointed. “There we go. Just because sex can have value, doesn’t mean in this transaction that value is relevant to you. Instead you offer to trade it for goods that do have value to you. Therefor even though the market rate of the goods is less than the potential value of sex, you still benefit with net gain because of the value of the goods is more relevant to you.”

John stared at Craig. “Dude, what? I thought you were trying to give me a boner?”
Craig snorted. “I was at some point. Anyway, I’ll pay for your weed. Come on, we got 40 minutes and it takes some time to get this machine warmed up.”

John tossed his jacket on the chair and followed Craig to the back bedroom. He did not know that Craig grew the weed that Brad sold to him, nor the wealth he controlled. John just assumed that because Craig hung out in this average apartment, he was a nobody with a hot body. And now Craig got the pleasure of fucking that beautiful rich boy with the washboard abs for the wholesale rate of weed. Damn Craig loved doing business. As John got undressed, Craig decided he also liked seeing John naked. He had no problem producing those loads promised – especially after he discovered how aroused John became the more Craig whispered dirty degrading words in his ear.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

twisted-talez:

curatedthickness:

“Uncle Randy? Why are you in my bathtub? Shit. Did Aunt Margy kick you out again?”

“Yeah. Your dad said I can crash here until she takes me back.”

“Fuck. What happened this time?”

“I dunno. She thinks I drink too much.”

“Shit, man. Wait a minute … are you drinking my beer?”

“Yeah, sorry. Your dad said to help myself. I’ll pay you back.”

“It’s fine. Forget about it. You bunking in my room or the living room couch?”

“Was hoping your room. I’ve got a 5-day load in these balls.”

“OK. Finish your bath. I’ll be ass up on the bed, the way you like me.”

“Thanks, boy. You’re a good nephew.”

“Uncle Randy? I think you get Aunt Margy to kick you out on purpose just so you can crash here, drink beer, and fuck my ass.”

“Yeah, no shit. Now grab me another beer and get your ass on that bed for me, faggot.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

Of course, after all that booze, Uncle Randy couldn’t even get his cock up. Which was a shame cause it was a hell of piece, a thick long thing that any horny college student would want to ride. So you stood there, naked and lithe and gorgeous, while Uncle Randy ogled you in horrendous frustration.
You sat in a chair across from him. “Well, I guess it’s time we had the talk. Listen, Uncle Randy, you’re an alcoholic. You’re family, but barging into my apartment and drinking my beer? Not cool dude. You wanna fuck my little faggot ass or whatever, yeah, fine. Like duh, of course I want steady dick. But come on, dude you need to get your shit together. Aunt Margy don’t deserve having another son to look after. You’re supposed to be an adult.”
Uncle Randy’s face grew red. “How dare you talk to me like that you little shit! You’re 22, you don’t know anything.”
“Says the man I found drinking in a my college apartment’s bathtub and has a sad non-existent boner.”
Uncle Randy looked apoplectic. “Why you piece of -!” He tried to get up, but it was hard when you’re that drunk, and at first swing he over balanced. You had to hold him up to prevent him from falling over.
“Oof! God you’re heavy! Sit on the bed before you fall on top of me.”
Uncle Randy grabbed your ass and planted a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “Come on make out with me.”
“Uncle Randy sit the fuck down.” You shove him back on the bed and sighed. “Now you stay there, and you sleep this off. Tomorrow you start getting sober.” You wagged your finger at him one more time. Then you shut the door and left him in there like a petulant child. So weird to have to treat your Uncle that way, but fuck this had to stop.

The next morning, you came back from class and he was nursing a hang-over a bowl of cereal and Gatorade. He was wearing boxers.
“Hey,” Uncle Randy said as you walked in.
“Nice of you to get up today.”
Uncle Randy flipped you off. “Did you have class? Or were you off fucking some hot rugby jock?”
“I let him fuck me on the weekend, and it’s Saturday, so I had class. What are you still doing here? Usually you slink off back to Aunt Margy’s by now.”
Uncle Randy sighed. “Yeah. She texted me and told me not to come back tonight. She needs to ‘think’.” He scoffed. “Whatever that means. But I think …maybe you were right, a little bit. I should stop drinking less. I mean, if my dick isn’t even working, that’s an emergency.”
“I was hoping you’d be a little more concerned that you drove here last night, but if we can get to the same result through your cock that’s fine by me.” You grabbed a bowl and poured yourself some cereal.

Uncle Randy winced. “Yeah. I did drive here. And I still want a beer.”
“Is your cock working this morning?”
“It should. Why? You cravin it?”
You rolled your eyes. “Cause I’ll make you a deal. You can keep fucking my ass, but you need to go to rehab. In or out patient, I don’t care. You make an appointment, you get to fuck me. You go to your appointments, you fuck me more. But you need to get to the bottom of your drinking – and I’m not the bottom.” You pointed the spoon at him.
Uncle Randy considered you across the table. “I hate the idea of needing rehab but….I do like the idea of fucking my way to drinking less.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” You pointed to his phone. “Make some calls. I’m gonna go shower and review my notes. You have an hour to do that and come find me, and then I’m jerking off, cause these balls are blue after your bullshit last night.” With that, you set your bowl in the sink and walked into the other room, leaving Uncle Randy stunned.

For a while, Uncle Randy was quiet, and then you heard him making calls. You went over your notes.

An hour later, Uncle Randy wandered in your room with his phone. He looked like a little child who had tried to tape back a vase he broke.
“What’s up?” You asked. You weren’t wearing underwear under your basketball shorts, and the way you were sitting with your thighs open made it super obvious. Uncle Randy definitely noticed. “Uh.” He glanced up at you and handed you his phone. “Check that out.”

You took it and looked at the screen. It was an e-mail confirming his appointment at an outpatient clinic for 5:30 pm.
You beamed at him. “I’m very impressed with you.”
Uncle Randy blushed. “Thanks,” he muttered. “My boss gave me some days off. He’s a nice guy.”
“I’m very proud of you.”
Uncle Randy sighed. “I want a beer.”
“You want a beer or my ass?”
He looked annoyed this was his choice. “Your ass. I do believe by our verbal contract, I am owed it. Get on the bed ass up, the way I like it.”
You licked your lower lip. “Yes, Sir. You earned it.”

_______________________________________________________
Captions are fictional. Not usually one for incest fic but…here we are.

by ccallenreese

vallentiro14:

Clarence sat on the bed, still too hot from the shower to get dressed. He looked at Tom who was pouring himself a drink. “Well. We did it.”
“We did.”
“I expected things would be radically different. I mean I feel different…I feel really good, but like…I don’t know what I was thinking would happen.”
“Did you think everything would be covered in rainbows and penises?” Tom asked.
Clarence chuffed air through his nose. “No.”
“That Kathy would break down the door and discover us?”
Clarence glanced at the door. “Maybe. Everyone is upset at me for breaking up with her instead of proposing to her. And then I leave town for the week? Wouldn’t be surprised if someone followed me just to find out if I was insane.”
Tom sipped his whiskey. “Well. It’s still illegal to be a homosexual. We did check in under fake names. I guess I understand why you feel that way.”

Clarence sighed. “Why does it feel so right though to do something illegal?”
“Cause the law hasn’t caught up with how good it feels to be with a man in bed.”
“If that’s the case, we just need the lawmakers to have a good fuck and we can fix it,” Clarence grumbled.
Tom snorted. “I wish. But if they could see how beautiful you are in bed, they would change their mind.”
Clarence blushed. “You are so kind. Kathy never gave me compliments in bed before.”
Tom smiled. “You never had a reason to enjoy yourself. Want a drink?”
Clarence shook his head. “I need a clear head. I need to figure out what comes next after this hotel room in El Paso. How to live this life.”
“Just live it.”
“I can’t. I have to go home to Kathy and the tennis club and my parents, and the place I grew up, and my job. I can’t leave as ‘Clar the straight dude’ and turn up as a ‘Clarence the homosexual’.” He made a gesture with his hand.
Tom raised an eyebrow. “No you don’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t. You broke up with Kathy. She’s moving out, you can move out, sell the condo. You can work in your field anywhere. Why do you have to live where you grew up? You have two other siblings that live near your parents. You’re young.” Tom pointed at Clarence. “Go. Go be gay. Enjoy your youth and sex drive while you still can.” He downed the rest of the whiskey.
Clarence stared at him. “But where…do I do that?”
Tom made another gesture. “Anywhere. New York. San Francisco. Palm Springs. Hawaii. You took a week off work, right?”

Clarence thought and then raised his head. “Can we go to the end of Route 66? To the beach?”
Tom poured another drink. “Can we do it in a week?”
“Why sure. It’s two days to California. Three days back to Dallas. That leaves us some time in between.”
Tom sipped again. ”Maybe we can stop at the Grand Canyon on the way.”
“Oh Tom could we?” Clarence put a hand over his heart.
“We could. And let’s make love every stop on the way.”
Clarence grinned. “Why not again right now?”
“Why Clarence. You better be careful, people are going to think you’re a homosexual.”
Clarence tossed his towel on the bed and spread his legs. “Let em.”

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

vallentiro14:

Your eyes lock, and you see him. He smiles. You look up at him up and down and smirk. He’s local, his Portuguese is beautiful and accented. His body invites your eyes roam over its curves and hills. You flirt, he flirts. His English is decent enough. He asks if you’re a fag, but he’s licking his lips as he asks it. You invite him back to your hotel room to find out.
“Guess I will have to,” he says with a resigned shrug.

You both have a rinse off near the beach exit to dispose of sand, and by the time you get back to the hotel you’re both dry. You track sand into the hotel room with your feet anyway. You push him to the wall and kiss him hard, cupping his bulge. He arches into your hand, hot and eager.

You take things to the bed. Speedos go flying. He pins you down and your bodies slide together with desperate desire. You’re lucky you brought condoms. There’s not a lot of time to prep for sex, but he seems eager. He keeps asking for something in Portuguese, and eventually he pulls some English out of his headfog and says, “put in put in”. Oh, that makes sense. You roll him onto his stomach and guide him so he’s on his knees. Perfect. God his ass is a sight. Still as tan as the rest of him, but his hole is pink and tight. You sink into him in one go, nearly losing it from him tensing up around you. The lube helps, but it takes time to get every inch of yourself in his body. A few tender caresses and strokes gets him to relax, but god you almost come about five times in the process.

Once you’re in, he’s ready, and you give him the fuck you promised him on the beach. Neither of you last particularly long, not with the way his ass is a velvet vice around you. He’s pushing back against your hips, mewling filthy words in a language you cannot understand. 

Between the sweat and sunscreen and lube, you can barely hold onto him, so you throw your whole body on top of his for the climax. You shove it in hard; he shudders and he cries out in a way that pushes you right over the edge. You explode in him, and it’s like that condom isn’t even there. For a moment you see little white dots. When the hysterical fever is over, you do the polite thing and reach down and stroke him to finish. His cock fills your hand and it’s searing hot. It goes off like a gun; the amount of cum in your hand is amazing. You roll off of him. The sheets feel like they came out of the washing machine mid way through.

“Meu deus,” he says when he catches his breath. You don’t need a translator to know what that means. You give him a tired satisfied smile. He wipes his face with his hand.

You gesture to the bathroom. He goes first. He showers. He gets out. The TV is on and you gesture to the fridge.

You shower. You come out. He’s gone.

So is the cash out of your wallet and your phone.

You’re so shocked you just sit on the bed for a minute and think. You’re relieved you put the passport in your hotel room safe. You turn pale and check your suitcase. He didn’t find your tablet hidden in the inner pocket behind some magazines  You walk to the balcony of your hotel room and glance down but you cannot see him.

It occurs to you that maybe you should file a police report, but you never got his name. Wait, you have his DNA. Like, all over the sheets. What good will that do you? You’ll get laughed out of the station. You curse. Was he faking the whole thing? Did he plan the whole thing? You feel rocked by the breach of trust.

Eventually you go down to the lobby to ask someone to track your phone. It’s off. Shit.

You change the sheets, but barely sleep. It’s complicated hating someone who was a great fuck.

The next day there’s a knock at your hotel room the next morning. You’re not expecting it. It’s him. And to your shock, he holds out your phone.

You take your phone back. There’s some terse words. You smack him across the face. He stammers out an apology. He looks so guilty you almost feel bad for him. You ask him why he brought it back. He scuffs his sandal on the ground and tells you it’s because of the sex. He mutters, “It was good.” He doesn’t say much more. His English isn’t great.

You stare at him. The urge to throw him out is strong. All this stress cause of one hot lay! But you know why he came back, and why he’s still standing at your hotel doorstep: not because he liked the sex, but because he wants it again. And you want sex like that too. You want that tight ass and that slick body writhing under you, crying out in foreign words.

You tell him to come back later than night. You know, after you’ve had a chance to lock up your valuables. You also want time to figure out how you’re gonna tie him to the bed.

To your surprise, he does show up. And he brings some of the cash. You take him inside to absolve him off his sin. It will involve a spanking though. You didn’t pack a whip for his trip.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese

vallentiro14:

I sit on the edge of the tub. “What’s a matter, Brazos?”
He sighs and gestures toward the other side of the porch. “It’s Grant. I’ve lost him. Paul’s got him wrapped around his little finger. Or should I say his dick, which frankly isn’t so little.”
I glance at the two. “Yeah Paul’s known for being hung like a horse. If Grant wants to be a size queen, let him.”
“I had this whole plan though. I was going to fuck Grant, seduce him, put him in chastity, spank him a little… he’s been talking about wanting to get more wild and be in touch with his sex drive. I had this whole perfect thing planned out, and he’s been picked the guy whose been using the same condoms since high school.”
I choke on my drink and sputter. “Oof alcohol burn. Come on, Brazos, pouting isn’t your style. If Paul can’t give Grant what he needs, he’ll come crawling back to you, and this time you’ll know it’s to stay.”
He sighs long and deep. “I hope you’re right.”
“Don’t focus too much on them right now. You got so many other guys who’d let you fuck them.”
Brazos finally takes his eyes off Grant and lays them on me. “What?”
“You didn’t know? We know how long you can go, we know about your basement. Us bottoms talk. We got a better spy network than the FBI.”
“Yeah I suspected that. Bottoms scare me a little. That’s why I want to tame them so much. If you don’t, your project becomes your houseboy. I mean, nothing wrong with houseboys just… I wanted a project.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Now you are having a pity party.”
“It ain’t a party without beer.”
“We can fix that.” I get up to go get him a beer. I return with a can of mango ale for Brazos. I toss it to him one handed. “Catch.”
He positions his hands like a catch and grabs it easily. “Thanks.” Brazos holds it over the edge of the hot top and opens it. It fizzes, but he catches most of it with his mouth.
“Ok, so once you drink that, you’re going to come inside and fuck me, and then once you have cleared your mind a little I’m going to go find you a project.”
“You want me to fuck you?”
“Hell yeah I do. Want to see how hard you can pound me with thighs that thick.”
Brazos blinks at me. “I thought you weren’t looking for anything right now.”
“I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m always looking for a hot cock.”
Brazos smirks. “Well I have that. Are you sure you don’t want to be put into chastity and spanked?”
“I can’t do chastity, I have hemophilia.”
“Aww, I’m sorry.”
“Me too, me too. But if you spank me light enough to not cause bruising… I can be down. You have enough control for that?”
Brazos gets this sinister look on his face. “You should come see my collection of implements, and I think that will answer your question.”
I shiver. “Oh my. Let me finish this margarita, and then I’m coming inside with you.”
Brazos looks pleased. “I like where this is going.”
“As do I.” Grant and Paul are making out now. “Does Grant really use the same condoms since high school?”
“Yep. His dick finished growing before he did.”
“Were you jealous?”
Brazos shrugs. “At first. But I like the shape of mine better. And I like that it gets smaller when I’m not using it. Like, it’s compact for travel.”
I laugh. “That makes sense. Mine’s always been a big undersized, and I like how it fits in underwear.”
“You want a cock like Paul’s?” Brazos asks me, eyeing my thong.
“Nah. I like mine small. Especially when I’m with a top that has big hands that can hold the whole thing in their grip and rub the tip at the same time; it drives me insane.”

Brazos’s eyes go wide. He down the rest of the beer and crushes the can in his hands. “Ok. Inside. Now.”

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Captions are fictional.