Tag: horny as hell

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Harper glanced over his notes, confirming that the passage he found in the book would support would his argument in the paper. He was pleased with himself; the report was coming along nicely – he would get a top grade for sure. Cody would be pleased as well.

Harper enjoyed the results of his hard work, and blushed under his parent’s praise, but the approval of Cody meant the most. The first semester of college had been a horrible flop – free from his backwater town, suppressed Harper had been overwhelmed with all the men on campus. So many men, in so many shapes, sizes, and colors! He feasted in a frenzy of sex and dick, failing classes and getting an STD for his trouble.

Cody was the only one night stand to see how miserable he was –

“I can’t turn it off Cody! I’m horny all the time! Day, noon, night. All I think about is sex sex sex and more sex! When I’m taking notes, I’m hard, when I’m trying to do homework all I can think about is a masturbation break…and then my cock gets hard and I have to jerk off!”

Cody reassured him that he wasn’t going to flunk out, and that he had a magic solution. Harper loved the gentle, reassuring feeling of the cage around his dick. It did kind of suck that he couldn’t cum during sex anymore, but Cody milked him on a regular schedule so that was alright. It was just between the milkings that felt like forever. Like today, for example. He leaked constantly and was now. Recently, Harper kept having to bring a change of underwear to class with him or else he’d be soaked through by the end of the day.

Still, the humiliation and horniness was a good price to pay for focus. Chastity was better than adderall, and the sex was amazing. Harper was sure he was going to graduate with honors. He bit off a moan as he felt another thick drop tickle the tip of his sensitive cock as it gathered, then fall, and seep into his underwear. Yeah, the waiting between milkings sucked a lot. Harper sighed and turned his attention back to his paper. He didn’t want to bother Cody by begging for release too much. It showed weakness. Once he got this paper done through, asking for a reward for doing all his homework early was not out of the question.

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Text is fictional. Source is Corbis.

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Jasper took his boyfriend Ryan to see the movie he’d been begging to go see. He’d been a good and obedient boy and Jasper thought it was a right reward. They went to a matinee and the theater was half empty; they took a seat in the back. The movie had a good advertising team but began to lose its appeal halfway through. Without anything to distract him from being horny, Ryan began to squirm.

Jasper pulled him into his lap and with great care, unbuttoned his pants and worked the zipper down without a sound. He slid a hand the heat of Ryan’s pants and cupped the locked cock he found within. Ryan arched into his hand instinctively, one of his own hands on Jasper’s wrists – if they got caught…! Jasper didn’t seem to feel threatened. He settled in, seeming quite comfortable. Then, Ryan felt it. Jasper was touching him, but just the tip of his finger and just the slit of skin attainable through the piss window of the chastity cage. He was caressing it gently, over and over and over and over, worrying at it distractedly as he watched the movie.

Ryan bit off a moan. It was just a tiny percentage of skin but his body felt on fire and responded immediately, mistakenly believing all him was being stroked. His cock swelled to a near painful level, pushing hard against the plastic. He whispered a plea for Jasper to stop but he brushed Ryan off and continued to tease him; soon Jasper’s fingers were wet from pre-cum. Soon the excess ran over his digits and dampened Ryan’s underwear.

The skin became quite sensitive and Ryan began to twitch and jolt because the orgasm kept building and building without release. It was becoming harder to mask his breathing, his involuntary squeaks. Jasper let him carry on until he was at risk of embarrassing himself, then he stopped. He cupped Ryan’s balls in his hand and let his hand rest, enjoying the feeling of the full things throbbing in his hand. Ryan was sure he’d make it through the rest of the movie like this until Jasper began to rub his thumb against his sac. The pre-cum began to drip again and he was mere seconds away from begging for a fuck, for some relief, an end to this delicious misery…. but Jasper had more wicked ideas.

He unzipped his coat pocket and took something out in a plastic bag. It was hard to see what it was in the dark theater, but when Jasper pressed it into Ryan’s hand – he knew what it was: the longest, thickest plug he owned. Jasper’s husky whisper filled his ear. “Go to the bathroom and put it inside of you. There’s a packet of travel lube in there. Work it until you began to drip again, then remove your underwear, put them in the back, and come back to me.”

Ryan had no option but to obey, as his other choice was to sit there frustrated out of his mind. At least being full would help take the edge off and push some of the cum out of his heavy balls. He felt bad though, for the guy who heard him groan when the plug popped in – he left the bathroom so fast he practically ran.

Ten minutes later, Ryan returned to his boyfriend with mincing steps. Every move he made pushed the plug against his prostate, clouding his mind with lust and desire. His cock ached and his pre-cum now ran down his thigh. Jasper tucked the bag with his underwear in it back inside his jacket as if it were a cellphone or a wallet.

“Good boy,” he murmured. Ryan was sure this was nearly over; the movie was coming to a close. He would survive sitting plugged for another fifteen minutes…as long as he didn’t move. Then, then Jasper reached over, slid his hand into Ryan’s pants, and began to tease his dick through the slit again. There was nothing he could do except bite back the moans.

It was the longest movie ending in Ryan’s life, but it was marginally improved by how horny he felt. He was entirely sure he’d be fucked by Jasper in the car, or taken home and fucked, or fucked ere in the bathroom… but Jasper was evil and with a casual air, mildly informed Ryan they were going out to dinner afterwards. Ryan groaned. His balls felt like they were going to explode, but it wasn’t Jasper’s concern when Ryan got to come or not. Milking could always be done later, after a nice slow dinner and drinks. Or perhaps not at all. He would hate to spoil the pent up seed and take away Ryan’s reason to beg him for a morning fuck. …and Jasper did like to hear Ryan beg.

When they were in the parking, Jasper noticed his boyfriend was lingering so he  gave Ryan a swat on the ass, pushing the plug right into his gland. Ryan cried out in ecstasy and fresh hot seed ran down his leg.
“Come on love, hurry up now, or we’ll miss our reservation.”

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Text is fictional. I think this is kinkilike.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Since I moved in with Adam, I’ve never been late for anything. Won’t my friends be surprised to learn that I’ve stopped using my alarm clock. No blaring noises, no snooze button. Adam’s sex drive wakes him up right after dawn like clockwork, so all I have to do is sleep naked and I’ll be gently roused by cuddles and sweet kisses to my ear and neck. Of course, if I don’t get up, his hands start to slide down under the sheets to find my half hard cock and stroke until I’m moaning too hard to go back to bed. When his fingers rub the tip of my penis, I become wide awake and desperate as hell for my morning fucking. I’ve been addicted to it, like Pavlov’s dog, needing it the way people need their morning coffee.

It’s a wonderful way to awaken – Adam’s pheromones filling my nose and his panting in my ear and his rigid cock rubbing between the clefts of my ass. Once he reaches peak frustration, I make him wait -and wait a little more – before telling him “yes” and he buries his slick cock in me to the hilt and cries out in pleasure as my velvet passage squeezes his swollen member. We toss the sheets off because it’s suddenly way too hot and the rush of sex has gripped us hard.

He puts his weight on my back, puts his hands over mine, and claims my body. It’s a daily devotional for him, almost in a religious way. Well, I think so, considering how many “oh gods” I hear. We probably spend more time doing foreplay than actual sex, because he’s horny goddammit and not built to last. Soon I’m arching up against his thrusts and he’s pounding me and replenishing the bruises on my hips. I’m thirsty and hungry but don’t dare move as he pumps the last drops of cum into my tense ass.

Coming down from actually coming is my favorite part. We’re braided together, slick as fish, and we both need a shower, but it’s in these moments I feel so bonded with him. It sets the precedent for my day, knowing I got a man at home who cares about me and marks me first thing in the morning. Someone cares about me, adores me. He always tells me just in case I’ve forgotten: “I love you to pieces, tiny, tiny little pieces.”

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Text is fictional. Source unknown.

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You can’t say “no”, and there won’t be any “no"s, not when he’s looking at you like that. There won’t be a yes either, you’ll just sigh in acceptance and unzip your pants because you never had a choice anyway. You look around though, before the clothes come all the way off.

The bedroom isn’t clean. The laundry is still on the line. He hasn’t done his chores, or made dinner, or made the bed. You don’t even think he stripped the bed before he did laundry. He’s slacking off for sure, and you swore you’d spank him more to keep him in line; but you’re standing there, looking at him, and realizing that somehow he’s hoarded all of the control. As long as he presents that round butterball ass to you, ripe and clean for a fresh fucking, it doesn’t matter that he’s breaking rules because you can’t say no. Even if you do, your sex drive sure won’t. It’s hard to be a firm disciplinarian when your cock and your heavy balls are betraying you every step of the way.

You swear, as you grab the lube, that tomorrow won’t be like this. Tomorrow you’re gonna start getting serious with him. Really. Just, not now. Tomorrow.

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Text is fictional. Source unknown.

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“Excuse me, do you know where I can find an alpha male to use my body hard and fuck me dry as he pleases? My GPS isn’t connecting for some reason, I think I’m outside my data plan.”
“Oh, you went a couple blocks too far. If you just go up to Classen Boulevard and turn left, about two streets down on the corner there’s a gay bar. There’s a muscular guy that hangs out around down there who puts faggots in there place, if that’s what you want.”
“Ah fantastic, that’s what I need. So I go out to Classen this way?”
“Yeah that way, and make a left.”
“Thanks, man, appreciate it!”
“No problem, boy, hope you get the fucking you need.”
“No doubt about it! God, the hospitality in this city is amazing…”

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Text is fictional. Source unknown.

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“Hi Alfonso, I brought over the new case report from the office to read and some other papers since you called out sick today.”
“Oh thanks, Clark, I really appreciate it. How nice of you to come all this way for me.”
“It wasn’t a problem,” he smiles. “So tell me, are you really sick? You look healthy as an ox to me.”
“Oh you got me, Clark, but I only called in sick because I can’t call in horny. My dick won’t go down, you see. And…it was so very kind of you to bring over that report,” Alfonso says, fingers tracing the curvature Clark’s bicep.
“Alfonso, no. We can’t keep carrying on like this. Someone from the department is going to find out and catch us.”
“They’re not here now. They think I’m sick, and maybe I am, cause you have no idea how badly I need to be fucked right now. God, I love how big your arms are…turns me on like crazy. You’re the hottest cop in the distract Clark, just looking at you in civilian dress makes my dick hard.”
“Alfonso,” he groans, “If you don’t cut that out I’m going to get the handcuffs from the car and cuff you to the bed.”
“Oh I’d like that, Clark,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against Clark’s jaw. “Cuff me. Spank me. Interrogate me. Fuck my hole, hold my arms back and dominate me until I’m loose and wet and ruined.”
“Christ, Alfonso,” Clark said, his voice gruff. He ran his fingers over the other man’s bare torso. “You know rough sex is my weakness.”
“Don’t let anyone you interrogate find out.” Alfonso chuckles, nibbling Clark’s ear.
Clark cups him between the legs and squeezes, making the other man squeak. “I think you do need to be cuffed to the bed after all. It’s my job as your senior to put uppity cops back into place – arms bound, and ass to me.”
Alfonso wants it so badly he can only whimper.

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Text is fictional. Pretty sure this is from a porno.

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I came into the room holding a white box in my hands. My boyfriend didn’t notice me at first. Flint was draped over the sofa like an over-sized Great Dane, his eyes glued to the muted TV. I heard him sigh in lament as he watched the clips KCAL News were broadcasting of firework shows from the East Coast. The sun hadn’t yet set here in Los Angeles, but on the other side of the country it was over.

“Flint,” I said softly. He lifted his head and glanced over at me with a mournful, uninterested expression on his face.
“What?” he sulked.
“I have a present for you.”
“…But my birthday isn’t until August.”
“I know baby.” I smile. “This is a just-because present.”
He glanced over at the bright colors on the screen before sitting up. I took a seat next to him and offered the box. Flint carefully peeled off the white butcher paper; the box was blank and held no clues to its contents. He popped the tape and opened it. When he saw what was inside, his brow furrowed.
“Headphones?” he inquired.
“They’re gun-range earmuffs, and there’s some high end earplugs in there too. I know how badly you wanted to go see fireworks this 4th of July, and this will help dampen the sound so it won’t trigger your PTSD.”

Flint’s face softened and he traced his fingers over the padding on the left ear cup. “But…are you sure it will be enough so I don’t have an anxiety attack?”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “Yes. I found a place up in the hills, called the Baldwin Hills Overlook. It’s in Culver City. It’s way up in the hills and not directly below any fireworks shows, so you can see them at a distance without being in direct range of the loud bangs and explosions.”
He bit his lip. I could see Flint badly wanted to believe me. Before he was deployed to the Middle East, we would go down to Dockweiler Beach and light bonfires and set off illegal firecrackers and just generally act like drunk hooligans. As a child, Fourth of a July was a family affair for little Flint and he felt a strong pull to carry on the tradition of flag cakes, cook-outs, and things that go boom. Being stuck at home made him miserable, especially because he was a military man and felt pressure to participate.

“Tovy…I’m not …but what if it’s not enough?” he said softly.
“Parking is free, and we can leave at any time. It’s not far from our apartment here in West Hollywood, just down La Cienega then we turn on Jefferson. Easy peasy. Worse comes to worse, Brotman Medical Center is like right there.”

Flint took the items out of the box. “You’ve thought of everything,” he said in awe. He looked away but I saw that his eyes were wet.
“Yes, because I know it means a lot to you. Oh – one more thing.”
Flint blinked. “There’s more?”
“Yes,” I said. I got up and vanished into the kitchen, then returned holding some rectangular in metal tin.
“A flag cake!” he squealed.
“Made with Cool Whip and everything,” I beamed.
“Oh Tovy baby,” his voice cracked as he threw his arms around me. “You’re the best goddamn boyfriend. I’m so excited.” He punctuated that with a kiss. I watched him put the earmuffs on. “How do I look?”
“Dorky,” I chuckled.
“What?” he said.
I pulled them away from his ears. “Adorkable, but I like you that way. Now grab your sweater while I pack us some drinks.”
Flint smiled at me, then turned off the TV and was up the stairs in a flash.

We got lucky and found parking at base of the park, then began the upward climb up switchbacks to the baseball fields above; from there, we then continued up a steep driveway to the Overlook. Flint paused to stare at the panorama of Los Angeles spread out below us. “This is fantastic,” he breathed. “You can see all the way from the Pacific Ocean to Downtown…and beyond. I had no idea this was up here! Goddamn, the sunset is gorgeous, setting behind the hills like that. Oh, I can see the 10!”
I let him gush, then we found a spot and sat down. By the time we cut the cake, people were lighting off things down below and Flint dived for the earplugs and headphones. People stared at us, but Flint ignored them in favor of being hand-fed cake by me. We drank our sodas until the sun set, and firework shows began legally -and illegally- all over the city. Flint and I eventually packed up our stuff back into my backpack and stood to see over everyone else. As the night deepened, more and more neighborhoods began to shoot off their pyrotechnics. I watched Flint carefully, but he was transfixed.

When a community college close to the Overlook began their show, Flint reached for my hand and squeezed it hard.
“Do you wanna go?” I asked.
Flint didn’t respond. He couldn’t hear me, and he wasn’t paying attention. I watched the colors reflect in his eyes and I realized he was crying. I wrapped my arms around him and he clung to me, sniffling. “You know why I love fireworks so much?”
I shook my head.
“Because even if we fucked up in the Middle East, and even if the US sometimes does dumb shit, fireworks allow us to be patriotic without being political. I think we need that, now more than ever. I never thought I’d get to see them again because of my stupid PTSD.”
I kissed his cheek and rested my head on his shoulder.

As the finales came on, Flint had started to tremble from their bombastic displays. We made it through the Culver City finale, and then he told me he wanted to go in a harried voice. Truthfully, it was a smart move. We got out of there before traffic began and we were home in record time.

I was the first in the door with Flint trailing behind me. He barely shut the door when he grabbed my wrist and spun me around. I gasped in surprise as he came at me pelvis first, then pinned me to the wall with a deep kiss. His hands roved up my arms and my shoulders as he rubbed his half-hard erection into my hip. My hands instantly went to his ass. When we broke, I was panting and my lips felt slightly bruised.
“What was that?”
“A thank you,” he murmured, trailing kisses up my jaw. “You are just the most wonderful, fantastic thing to happen to me, Tovy. I haven’t felt so wonderful in a long time, and watching you feed me cake made me ridiculously horny.”
I lifted my hips off the wall to meet him, and I was pleased to hear him groan. “You wanna go create some fireworks of our own?”
I saw a flicker of amusement cross Flint’s face. “Fuck yeah I do. I’m going to make love to you so hard you’re gonna sing the Star Spangled Banner.”
I laughed and Flint couldn’t help but join me. I paused to put the rather smushed cake remains back into the fridge, then ran to join Flint in the bedroom. He was naked and waiting for me, and tasted deliciously of strawberries and Cool Whip.

I didn’t dare tell Flint, but he was a screamer and he made more noise than any explosion we heard from Baldwin Hills that night.

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Text is fictional. Can’t find the source. The Baldwin Hills Overlook is a real thing on Jefferson Blvd in Los Angeles (not to be confused with the Kenneth Hahn Recreation area on La Cienega Blvd) and a great place to see fireworks.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

captionstojerkby:

When I walk back up into the suite half an hour later, he’s still there, still bare, still waiting patiently. He might—he just might—have shifted slightly when he heard me in the doorway, but not enough that I could tell.

“I checked out the convention center," I say slowly, carefully, waiting to see how he responds. “I think I must have forgot my razor, though, so I’m going to run out and pick one up.” Nothing.

I shouldn’t have expected anything—a twitch of the ass, a plaintive little roll of the hips, an even more plaintive whimper or whine—but even though he’s better than that, past that, I’m still a bit surprised; I had him so close, for so long, before I went down for my first pass at the exhibition hall. I walk over to the bed, and there’s a moment of drawn out silence before I rest my hand on his ass; when I do, his skin’s hot, searing, even in the over-conditioned hotel air. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move, so I move my hand, sliding my fingers across his skin and into his dark cleft. The very tip of my middle finger just grazes his hole, and I can feel the tight ring of muscle twitch against it; he can’t help that, though, and the rest of him remains impassive—un-passioned, but long-suffering. When I talk again, it’s not at all like I’m just one quick shove away from fingering him. “Do you need anything while I’m out?”

"No,” he says. “I’m fine.”

So I push my finger in, hard. There’s no lube, of course, and I can feel his ass catch at my finger and then clench at it in protest as I slide in. I can feel his body shake, and this time, my voice isn’t measured, guarded; there’s a smile in it. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t need anything?” I twist my finger in further, turn it to press unrelentingly up against the hard knot of his prostate. “Anything at all you really, really need?” He drops his head just as quickly as the clear spurt of precum drops down from his dick onto the bedspread. 

“Yes,” he chokes out. “I need"—and he says this through gritted teeth, and my heart and my dick both swell at the thought of having won—"socks. Black. One pair.”

I pull my finger out, swat his ass. Part of me wanted to hear him break, hear him answer with “a long, hard dicking, sir.” That’s the part me that’s ready to go again even after the check-in blowjob he gave me, the part that wants so badly to be buried immediately inside him, the part that’s anxious to be able to say that he’s now given it up in Pittsburgh, too. But the bigger part of me—well, bigger in terms of judgement and magnanimity; the other part is currently clocking in at a solid 8” and straining across my thigh—is so fucking proud of him, too. 

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gayboykink:

Imagine waking up on a lazy Sunday morning, and this is what you see when you open your eyes. Your boyfriend, full of sexual energy, shaking his bubble butt in your face while his hands and tongue are teasing your morning wood. He’s one uncontrollably horny mess, on top of you, desperately begging for attention without saying a word. Apparently the few days of denial and cock teasing starts having it’s effect… and the day has only just begun!

gayboykink writing captions is fine by me.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

When I explain it to people, they tend to get a confused expression on their faces. A dominant bottom? Isn’t that a contradiction? How can that exist? Then they meet my boyfriend and suddenly they get it. Even in khaki shorts and a tight knit tee shirt across his firm pecs, he attracts your eye and your attention. He’s impossible to ignore, even when not saying a word, he has this incredible aura and this steel glint to his eye that makes you wonder what he’s going to do next. It’s his confidence, his swagger. 

The boy is going to go places, but there is only one place he’s cumming – on me. Being gay to him is a non-issue. He easily accepted it, as if it was natural to him as breathing. His Type A personality doesn’t accept that he has to sit around until some guy gifts him with his cock. He finds it juvenile. When he wants sex, he needs to be in control the entire time, from actively pursuing a partner to the actual penetration. He quickly deduced that sticking his dick into something was not nearly as pleasurable as riding one. Big cocks, small cocks, curved cocks, he’s taken them all. Unfortunately, most of those cocks were attached to confused men who didn’t know how to react when their “submissive” bottom began to growl and take charge.

I, on the other, love just staying still and relaxing during sex. I love watching my partner fuck himself me because I know he’s in heat. I know he’s crazy, near foaming at the mouth, with the need to be penetrated and my cock is better than any dildo he can buy. It’s hot, it’s damp, it throbs and twitches. It fills him up and soothes the ache. After we had sex a few times, he simply told me, “You know I’m keeping you right?” I couldn’t find a reason to disagree.

Sex is usually triggered by two words: “I’m horny”. He purrs like a kitten and rubs my shoulders. I can rarely ever resist. I obediently climb the stairs and follow him to the bedroom, and there I wait for him to undress me. He pushes me to the bed licks me all over. Soon he’s grinding against me, testing my patience until I’m practically begging. God, I love watching him. He’s poetry in motion. All I have to do is stay still and he devours me. He mounts me and takes me into his body, rocking back and forth on my cock as he pleases. Often he seems he slips into a trance from how good it feels. Normally both of his hands are pressed flat against my chest like a panther that’s pinned his prey. I keep my hands busy, caressing him, tugging on his hair, encouraging him to use me as he desires. My cock is his.

The sex with him is incredible. I would let him lock my cock up if he wanted to, I just can’t resist. I can’t wait until we don’t have to use condoms anymore.

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Text is fictional. Source unknown.

PSA: I am selling some gay sex stories to offset some of my bills; if you’d care to take a look I’d appreciate it.