Tag: kissing

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“So uh, see you at school tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I guess you will,”
Rajeed responded, still grinning like an idiot. He cuffed his boyfriend
on the arm. Sam made a motion to go, but he stopped, and looked deep in
thought. “…Sam?”
Sam moved forward suddenly and kissed him. Rajeed
was awakened by the spark from the touch, and reciprocated with eager
lips and a seeking tongue. Kissin Sam was nice. It was beyond nice.
“Mmnn…mnnn…” he sighed softly. Rajeed was just melting into a nice
pre-arousal buzz when-

“Honey, are you home? I thought I heard – oh! Oh goodness, excuse me.”

“Mom!” Rajeed groaned and facepalmed at his mother’s interruption, turning bright red.
Sam giggled and waved sheepishly. “Hi Mrs. Mayar.”
“Hello Sam. Oh, I’m so sorry for um, interrupting you two.”
“It’s ok, I was just on my way out”
“Did you have a nice date?”
Rajeed rubbed the back of his red neck. “Yeah we did.”
Mrs. Mayar smiled. “So nice to see someone bring my shy boy out of the woodwork.”
Rajeed groaned again. “Mom, please.”

She held up her hands. “Ok ok, I’ll go. You two can finish making out.
“Oh my god, Mom-”
”But you really should stay for dinner Sam. I’m making curry.”
Sam
glanced at embarrassed Rajeed, and at his kiss-swollen lips. “That’s
very kind of you Mrs. Mayar. I have team practice in an hour but…I’ll
be plenty hungry after.”
She beamed. "Well come by, and I’ll feed you. Kitchen’s open late.”
"Will do, thank you.” Sam nodded at her, then thumbed Rajeed’s chin. “See you later ok?”
“Yeah…”
Rajeed said, watching the hottest jock he’d ever seen smile brilliantly
at him, then turn and go. “See you uh, later.” God, his butt looked
good in Levi jeans.
“I see why you like him,” Mrs. Mayar notes, “His butt looks good in those jeans.”
“Mom!”

_______________________________________________________________
Text is fictional. The boys are Zane Porter and Dominic Santos, in this scene for Randy Blue.

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“Hey.”
I glance up at Mark. “Oh hey handsome, what’s up?” I put my book down and we share a kiss.
“Bookmark your place, we gotta go.”
I slip a receipt into the spot where I stopped and furrow my brow. “Go where…?”
Mark’s grinning so hard that all his teeth are on display. “The courthouse.”
I blink. “….Babe, I don’t understand – why?”
He takes my hand and places something cool in it. When I open it, I see it’s a ring. I gasp.
“Travis County is allowing gay couples to get married today. And…and I know you told me before, how important it was to you to get married, but you never liked the showy ways people propose to each-other. So I’m asking you.. Ramos T. Vargas-” Mark comes around to the front of the sofa and gets on one knee -”if you’ll come to the courthouse and marry me today, on this landmark day. I can’t imagine – no, because there isn’t anyone else in this whole world I want to be married to more than you. You are my everything.”
“Oh my god baby. Oh my god.” I stare at the ring which is quickly going blurry. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. By dinner tonight, we could Mr. and Mr. Hernandez.”
I feel a ragged shudder leave my lungs. “Oh my god baby. Look at this band… it’s so beautiful…” I squeak and dissolve into tears. “Yes yes yes yes yes. I’ll marry you. Let’s go do it! Let’s go get married.”

“Jesus christo, thank you Ramos. Thank you” Mark is biting his lip hard to keep his emotions in check as he slides the ring onto my trembling fingers. We share a deep kiss flavored with the tears running down my face.
“Oh my god,” Mark sniffles. “I’m so happy you said yes.” He picks up the tissue box and we share it.
I chuckle and kiss him again. “This is exactly how I wanted you to ask me too. Love makes you do crazy, spur of the moment things.”
we kiss again. ”Cause I know you, like no one else does. Come on, let’s go pick out something nice to wear, real quick. The line’s gonna be long at the courthouse. I want to make sure we get in.”
“Should we call our parents?” I ask, lovingly inspecting the band.
Mark thinks. “Let’s wait until we get the certificate. Then we ask Janie to take some nice photos in the park. We can send them those.”
“Sounds great.” I can’t stop grinning now either. Today went from bland to bliss in less than five minutes. It was a good day to be gay in Texas. “Race you upstairs!”

____________________________________________________
Text is fictional. YAY gay marriage being legal in the US now!!

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

sorrygirlsisuckcock:

New favourite couple

“Oh my god, you’re actually going to kiss me.”
“Why are you grinning so hard yet cowering at the same time?” I tease.
“I – I don’t know! Because this is hilarious. And weird. And…I dunno.”
“Do you not want me to kiss you?”
“I don’t know! I mean, I’m straight but I…dunno,” Arturo giggles.
“God straight boys are so silly,” I chuckle. I lean forward, trapping him with two hands against the wall.
“Wait wait!”
“What?” I ask, finding it impossible not to smile although I’m a little exasperated.
“…No no, just do it,” Arturo replies. His cheeks must hurt by now. He hasn’t closed his mouth in like ten minutes.
“Ok fine,” I say with a shrug. His body language is confusing. His legs are forward but he’s leaning back, hands crossed over his chest like a mummy. Arturo’s tense. Nervous. He’s also really cute and looks great in blue. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
He giggles nervously. I feel like I”m at summer camp. I put my hands on either side of him and lean in, trapping him. He doesn’t turn his hed away. Our eyes meet momentarily. I close mine, and kiss him. His lips are firm and I can smell his cologne. I get a buzz immediately. To my surprise, he doesn’t blanch or pull away.
“Mnn…nnnf,” Arturo says.
I cup his chin and kiss him again. His arms relax.
“Mnnn…” he sighs.

Finally, I relent and break away. “…And that’s it,” I say cheerfully.
He blinks slowly and rubs his lips. “That uh…that was…different. I could feel your stubble a little.”
“Was it bad?” I asked, tilting my head.
“…I don’t know. It was different. Oh my god I can’t believe I just got kissed by a guy.”
“You said you were curious!”
“I did! And now I don’t know what to do with that information.”

I backed off and gave him some space. “Well, you’re a man now. You lost your bet and paid the price.“
Arturo looks pleased with this information. “And I’m still straight.”
“Well, good for you,” I reply, feeling a little disappointed.
“…Hey Marcus?”
“Yeah?”
“I have a question. I mean, not related to anything.”
”Go on,” I urge, folding my arms.
“Is it still gay if you just like to kiss guys? I mean, not have sex with them?”
I tilt my head. “Yeah, it’s call being a homo-romantic, heterosexual.”
Arturo’s face goes blank. “…A homo what now?”
“Oh straight boys. Come here Arty, sit down on the edge of the tub. We’re gonna have a little chat. And trust me, there is nothing wrong with kissing boys. Especially the way you kiss.” I watched him turn red, but I didn’t feel bad for enjoying it as much as I did.

____________________________________________
Text is fictional. From sense8, the tv show, apparently.

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

How did it come to this? I mean, last time I checked I was a scruffy, carefree college student. Marriage, home-ownership, 9-5 jobs – those things were for chumps. I was out rock-climbing and kayaking. I backpacked India! and Europe! I went to bath houses in strange cities and had excellent sexual experiences with beautiful men. I was going to start a non-profit…or something….and change the world or something…

And how did I end up here? Didn’t it all start when I met Hugo on the back-packing trail? Weren’t were just going to be in an open-relationship, unbound, fun, and free? Cause trail relationships never work out? When did I become scared of that, and start to play it safe? Now I’m taking my work home with me because 40 hours is not enough hours to get it all done. Our names are on this house, because it’s more economical than renting. And I do believe the man whose arms are wrapped around my waist is thoroughly committed to me monogamously and loves me very much? And most of it all, why does our cat run this house? I haven’t sat down in two hours. I’m no Slytherin, I’m a Hufflepuff. No, I’m a doormat in front of the Hufflepuff house.

“Atlund,” my husband asks softly, “Are you overwhelmed with work tonight? We haven’t had a night together in a while…”I cringe. When he’s speaking softly, it’s not a good sign. It mean he’s scared of being rejected, but he’s still so needy and hopeful that he’s risking it. This is the man that brought surprise-afternoon-sex to our relationship. And now it’s down to him begging while I drown in paper at 8 pm on a Tuesday night. I feel his arms tightening around me. I understand what Hugo’s saying without another word. I’m drifting away, and he’s trying to tether me to him. I glance down at the papers in my hand and suddenly, they’re meaningless.

”Hey Hugo?” I ask, tossing the papers onto the desk. One piece slides off the desk, over the cat. She doesn’t seem to care and resumes cat loafing.
”Yeah Atlund?” he asks, hopeful.
”You know what? I hate this.”
Hugo tenses. “…Oh my god, you hate me?”
My eyes go wide. I spin around and cup his face in my hands. “No, no no no, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry. I mean – this.” I gesture with my hand. “I hate this, this…thing I’ve become. Let’s … let’s go.”
He sputters. “Go where?”
”South Asia. Let’s go buy a motorbike in Thailand and ride it across South Asia, and then we’ll meet up with your brother working in China.”
Hugo gasps.
”The distribution center you’re working for is merging and consolidating, right?”
He nods briskly.
”And you seem so burnt out. Volunteer to quit, they’ll probably give you severance. I’ll quit my job, we’ll rent the house for income, live off our savings, and spend those weeks relearning why we fell in love in the first place, and figure out how to live our lives right this time. God, I miss kayaking.”

Hugo looks frankly astonished. “…Am I asleep?” he finally asks, cautiously.
I hear a strange sound, then I realize it was me laughing. It’d been so long I almost didn’t recognize it. “No. No you’re not. I’ve been asleep. I got lulled into this stupid work/spend cycle and lost focus of what was important. You. Us. I can’t enjoy living unless I get time to love you.”
Hugo sniffles and his bottom lip quivers. He takes a deep breath. “Ok.” He says. “Ok, let’s do this. Let’s …let’s go. Wait.”
”What?” I ask, my eyes searching his face.
“What about Mittens?”
I glance at the cat. “We’ll give her to my sister. Our niece looooves her.”
Hugo nods, still seemingly a little stunned. “Wow. There really is an answer to everything.”
”Then let’s go.”
He smiles. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
I hook my fingers in his belt loops. “Why don’t we celebrate our renewal by spending the rest of the evening having the dirtiest sex we can imagine?”
Hugo’s blank face slides into a smirk. “You wanna do it bareback? Me slamming again you, making the headboard bang against the wall?”
I groan. “Shit, I just want you fucking me. You do it in whatever pose you want.” I cup him between his legs and rub. “Oh man, Hugo, I forgot how hot you are… I want this. I want you. I want you so goddamn bad. God, how could I have ignored this for so long?”

Hugo jumps on me and kisses me, our lips roiling and colliding. I omit a muffled cry of bliss and bring our hips together. His shirt lands on the cat. Mittens seems miffed and goes off to do cat stuff.

Apparently, ‘dirty’ meant banging me right against the desk and getting cum and sweat all over the TPS reports… but we made it to the bed. Eventually.

_____________________________
Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

leprinceofsins:

Magic Wood barebacks Draven Torres at RawStrokes.com (xox)

Later, after we were snuggling in post-coital bliss, he said: “I’m jealous.”
I tilt my head up and met his dark eyes. “Of what?”
“Other men…the men you had before me. The one night stands in college, the bar hook-ups, the party sex orgies, your boyfriends…so jealous that they got you before I did.”
I smile, crinkling the corners of my eyes. “You love being in me that much?”
“Fuck, you’re perfect. Tight, warm, like velvet, “ Marcus groans and handles his soft cock, as if checking to make sure he can’t squeeze another orgasm out of it. No luck – his balls are empty. “Shit, I can’t even put it into words. The way you smell, the noises you make, the way your beard brushing my face, the texture of your lips…Jesus,” Marcus sighs. “It’s like dying and going to heaven every time. I can’t get enough of you.”
I blush hard and put an arm around him. “Well you don’t have to be jealous.”
“How could I not be, baby?”
I smirk. “You think they all got sex like that?”
He lifts his head up. “What do you mean, baby?”
“You forgot, that before we met I was a slut. A raging, bottom slut. I didn’t care about the fuck as long as someone was on top of me, and made me cum. No one got to make love to me. No one. Especially no one that I wasn’t gonna see again. I thought it was trite. And yeah, I’ve had a few boyfriends. Boytoys, really, but they never turned into lovers, because I wasn’t ready to settle.”
“That means…” Marcus begins.
“I’m an old slut, love. There’s a 3 in front of my age, love. What’s fun becomes exhausting, the hangovers start to last a lot longer, the morning partings become more painful. The loneliness starts to sink in… as does the depression. And then I met you. And it was like I was starting over, and being in love for the first time.”

He blinks at me. “Honey I never knew this about you, how you felt about me.”
I pat his cheek. “You’re getting this old slut to let down his guard. Good for you.”
“You’re not old, and you’re not a slut. Well, you’re slutty, but not a slut. You’re mine,“ Marcus insists. “I like hearing that you want to settle with me, though. I like you. A lot.”
“Me too.”
We kiss.
“So…” Marcus begins. “With me, we’re making love?”
“Every damn time.”
He grins. “How did you know you were ready to share that with me? Cause when we first met, it wasn’t like this.”
“You were right. When we met, we just fucked. But then…then you started putting your hand over my cock when we had sex.”
“….I do?” He blinks.
I giggle. “Yeah you do it every time. You get me spread wide and open, make me impale myself on you, and before I can get anywhere near my needy little erection, you put your hand over it and my balls. Mine, you say. You don’t want me to touch. You don’t want me to focus on any other pleasure except the kind you’re giving me. And at first, it pissed me off, but then we had that night when we got back from the ballet remember?”
“Uh huh,” he replies, mesmerized by the words coming out of my mouth.
“And it was just…so wonderful. So intense. So slow, so passionate. And you did that, and it just felt right. I felt like I belonged to you, I wanted to give myself to you. So, I thought, why not? Why not see where this goes?” I kiss his chin. “It’s been a very rewarding experience. The sex is on another level.”

Marcus works his jaw. I wonder if he knows his eyes look a little wet. “Baby,” he manages. “I had no idea. I am so, so…flattered that you picked me, and let me pleasure you. When I met you, and started dating you, I thought – this guy is really special, but I don’t think he’s going to stick around long enough for me to show him how special he is. So every day to me, it’s like waking up in a dream.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I sigh, content. “Being in love is amazing. Getting fucked by you is amazing. Coming hands-free is amazing. Spending time with you is amazing. But it’s the sum of the parts that make me get up in the morning.”

Marcus wraps his arms around me and nuzzles my neck. “I love you so much, baby.”
“I love you too, Marcus. …Hey, what’s that poking me in my thigh?”
“Huh?” he glances down. “Well, shit, look at that. I don’t think there’s anything left in the arsenal though.”
I wrap my fingers around it. “Why don’t we find out?”

_________________________________________________________
Text is fictional. Source is below. Black gay porn actors have the best aliases. Magic Wood and Draven Torres are with Lucas Entertainment.

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

He came by to help you close up the store. Your sister runs the place, selling very nice bath products and tattoo care, soap and candles. She wanted a night off, so you worked her shift. By closing time, the place was dead, so you invited your boyfriend to keep you company.

Recently, you can’t seem to get enough of him. You’re still not really sure what happened, because he was a friend for the longest time and you were pretty goddamn sure he was straight. Apparently he’s just got the best gaydar cloaking technology in existence because you found his stash of your stolen undershirts and underwear when over at his place. You just had to take one look at this miserable face and incredibly hot body, and you know you were going to give him what he wanted instead of leaving him. Heck, you wanted him since day one but thought you were being the good gay friend by keeping your hands off. Now that the barrier had been broken, the mattress was not going to get a break.

Now, you could hardly go anywhere or do anything without thinking of him. And since you were alone and bored, of course you called him, and of course he came over with the promise of dinner after. But first – you were going to eat him. You locked the doors and shoved him against the wall. You were aware your sister probably had a security camera in place here, but dammit you could not resist him.

His taste, the fullness of his lips, the way his hard muscles trembled under your roaming fingertips. The boy liked to be kissed and you were happy to indulge him. You were slowly realizing that his alpha straight boy act was a cover too. You were always the one that pushed him back and lifted up his shirt, waiting for him to spar with you, but he just melted and let you take control. Surrendering to you came naturally to him. You rewarded him for his piety by tonguing his nipples while massaging his erection through his pants. He lifted his hips and moaned out your name, making your own cock ache.

There were glass windows on the storefront and you didn’t want anyone to call the cops, so you took him to the back room where there was a nice packing table waiting for use. You bent him over and got his pants down. That herbal spice body oil your sister created made for some damn great lube. It occurred to you that she should probably start selling it as such. You teased his hole with your slick fingers until he was pounding the table, begging for you to fuck him, but you waited until his cock was a tight, straining mess in your hands on the brink of spurting before you dove into him.

Your hands left oily marks on his hips as you set a relentless place, fucking him hard and sweet. You pressed kisses down his shoulder and licked the shell of his ear to make him insane.

The orgasm came far too quickly, and you wished you had a plug to hold in all the mess. You settled for cleaning him with warm, damp paper towels and kissing him until he was unmistakeably ravished. If it wasn’t for your grumbling stomachs, then you were sure you were going never going to stop making out with him. You reminded yourself to be careful and not go too fast, not taken advantage of him, because this boy just might be the love of your life and you had to remember he was a person and not just a vessel for sex, even if he wanted to be thought of that way. He had an amazing sex drive.

And taking care of your man meant feeding him after fucking him.
“Come on love, let’s get you some protein before we get carried away again. I much rather make love to you on a soft bed than a wooden table.”
And he gives you this heart-melting smile and slinks an arm around your waist. “Late night tonkatsu ramen?”
You groan. “Sounds fucking delicious.”
He kisses your cheek. “Not as delicious as you.”

_________________________________
Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

There is praise I can never give you, for there are not words, or emotions, or smiles to convey how much I am grateful for you. You somehow, always, telepathically know when I’m at my worst. It’s usually after therapy, but sometimes just for no reason. Those are the days when the medication isn’t working, and I just can’t get out of bed. I don’t know why you want to be with a guy suffering from clinical depression. I mean, I love you, but it’s hard for me to show it. I don’t feel like I deserve to love you, or if I’m even loving you right at all, because I don’t feel many emotions. I mostly feel just negative ones. I always feel unworthy of you.

Yes, I know that release of endorphins and hormones from sex is healing and therapeutic. You know that making me have release can help wash my brain of the crap inside so that the drugs can move in and start working. I just struggle to initiate it. I mean, I struggle to lift my spoon. And yet you somehow, magically, see every time when I need it the most. You swap out my underwear for jockstraps while I’m showering and so of course, I put them on. I feel sexier that way, which enforces a positive body image. Still, I just can’t make myself go after you but you always, always come to me.

You climb into bed with me and pry me off of the pillow. You scoop me into your arms and kiss me, like I’m Sleeping Beauty. You make me feel treasured, and curiously flattered when your hand squeezes my ass. You rub against me and make me forget everything – how depressed I am, how deep in debt I am, how bleak my future is. You remind me that my future has you in it too, and just maybe, I can climb out of this hole.

Your embrace becomes this warm envelope of hope and humanity. You turn my sorrow into silk. For that, and all the ways you’ve supported me, I will always love you. And because of that, I have stopped thinking about suicide; because if the afterlife is absent of you, I do not want to go.

_____________________________________________________________
Text is fictional. “You turn my sorrow into silk” is a lyric from giselle’s Silk. The Favored Nation’s remix is pretty good too. By the way, if any of you have suicidal thoughts, please call 1-800-273-8255 or your nation’s helpline.

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“What are you thinking, Jessup? You’re always so quiet.”
“Cause I’m listening.”
“What are you listening to? The shower?”
“You. Your breathing. The way the water splashes off your skin, the sound of the loofah as you wash me..”
“Are you enjoying it?” I ask.
“Mmm very much. It’s so hard to find a lover, with me as I am, and I’m sort of wondering if I”m dreaming sometimes, having such a great guy like you in my life. In my shower.”
I chuff through my nose. “You shouldn’t put yourself down in that way. I look for a few things in my partner, and the biggest one is personality.”
Jessup grins. “Are you sure the biggest isn’t the cock?”
“I thought that was why you liked me?” I pretend to be offended.
Jessup laughs.

“Hey…Jason.”
“Hm?” I inquire.
“…Would you do something for me?” Jessup asks, putting the loofah back on the hook.
“Anything.”
“Take control.”
“…Are you sure? But you hate being caught off guard.”
“Jason please,” he begs. “Everyone is so delicate with me because I’m nearly blind. I’ve retorted by being as picky as possible. I’ve never given control to anyone. I want to know what it’s like. Be rough with me. Ravish me.”
“Christ, it’s turning me on hearing you beg.”
“Do it,” he growls.
I take a step back and examine my Jessup. He loves to work out, and it’s carved these delicious lines and rolling waves of muscle into the canvas that is his body. A strong illiac crest slides downward to the impressive, veiny cock jutting out. It’s a shame he can’t see his package because the set is damn gorgeous. And it is mine for the taking.
“….Jason?” he says quietly.
I push him back against the wall. Jessup gasps in surprise as he is jostled, then again as his back hits the cold wet tile. Before he can get out the second half of “more”, I’ve pounced on him, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. Our lips meet and duel, and then I slip my tongue. Jessup’s hands seek my body and I press my palms into his torso, helping myself to a handful of his pecs. How can they so firm, yet so soft? I suddenly get why straight guys like tits.
I pin his arm against the wall, and when I move his limbs as I like, Jessup giggles; he’s giddy. His hand finds my waist and he pulls me against him. Our half-hard cocks meet and Jessup arches up. I can feel a moan thrumming in his throat as I kiss him, relentlessly.
“Fuck yeah, more, Jessup more!” he asks, breathy and hopeful.
Our lips meet again and again. I pin him in place with my hips and my grip. We rock together until our cocks are stiff as wood and sharing heat by sliding against each-other. The warm water slides down my back and gurgles down the drain.

I reach back with my free hand that’s not pinning his arm back and seek his ass. I squeeze it hard enough to make him shout.
“This is turning you on,” I purr.
“More Jason!”
“I do think you have a date with my bag of ropes later…”
He shudders and pre-cum dribbles down his shaft. I swipe it with my finger and taste it, then reach behind Jessup again and stroke his hole which I just cleaned.
Jessup whimpers and clings to me. “Jesus, Jason, no one’s ever made me feel like this.”
“I’m happy you thrust me.”
“…Did you just say ‘thrust’ instead of trust?”
Jessup quiets and stills, then his body vibrates with laughter. It’s contaigous and soon we’re bent over in hysterics.

________________________________________________________
Sex TBC. Text is fictional. I actually wrote “thrust me” instead of trust me and just went with it. These hotties are from Sean Cody, naturally.

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Your slave boy was pulling the delicate laundry hanging to dry on the balcony. You were watching him though, the way the sun rays and shadows were playing off your boy’s nude body. The morning urge came out of hiding easily. You pinned him against the railing and took what you wanted from him, with your mouth and your cock. It doesn’t matter how humiliated he might have felt, being fucked with all those people milling about publicly below. It was up to him to be quiet and focus on pleasing his Master. It was your loud grunt when you came in him though that got some people to look up. You could feel your boy blush all over, but he kept his eyes ahead. It was not his job to question if his Master wanted the neighborhood to know he was owned slavemeat. When it was over, he thanked his Master for the sex, and continued on with the laundry, hole dripping until his Man plugged him.

______________
Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

obedienceisgolden:

I try to be Daddy’s sexy little wife as much as I can. Making him happy and horny is what I live for.

I hear his soft footfalls as he enters the kitchen. “Hello Jackson,” I say, busy prepping supper.
“God, I could listen to you say my name forever,” he admits. “I love your accent.”
“Jack-son?” I repeat.
“Yeah,” he exhales, like that “You’re cooking nude again. In that pristine white apron…” Jackson presses himself up behind me and his palm slides over my ass. “My Russian beauty.”

He’s necking me now, so I lean back against him and offer my lips. He dips his head and our mouths lock. It’s sweet, tender kisses that make my knees weak. For a moment I forget supper and just hope he wants to take it to the bedroom. I reach back and grab his thigh. I feel his package bum against me.
“Horny?” I purr.
“I don’t even have a word for it. I just am totally obsessed with you. Your thick body, those muscles in your arms. Your butt is – god, I just love your butt. I love your python thighs, your uncut cock, and your big low set of balls…” he runs his hands over me, caressing me as if exploring me for the first time. The hand drifts under my apron and cups me between the legs. I inhale sharply.
“You know what I think it is?”
“Hm?” I ask, distracted, as I stir the pot.
“I think it’s me thinking about what life be like if I hadn’t met you.”
“You?!” I exclaim. “What about me? I’d still be in that tiny little town in Russia, drinking myself to death like my papa did.”
“But you aren’t there,” Jackson says, reassuring me. “You’re here. In Canada. Safe, with me, in my home. I just …jesus, Oskar, I just never imagined I’d be this happy. I sometimes wonder if it’s all a dream.”
“Isn’t that what you imagined when you put up the ad?”
“I was scared to dream I’d be this happy. Honestly, I imagined I’d be taken advantage of for sex and money and abandoned once my new partner got here.”
“But you got me.”
“I almost didn’t,” he corrects, still touching me. It’s making me really hot and bothered. I almost wish I wasn’t so deep into dinner or I would just throw himself at him.
“The agency matched you with that guy, Carlos. He was such a creep. He just wanted a sex toy.”
“Honey, I know, I was there,” I chuckle, not really wanting to think about that right now. Jackson was lost in his thoughts though.
“I was wait listed for you, on this off-chance…I just knew, you were the one. When I got the news he hurt you, oh my god, I almost went to his house and beat the shit out of him!” Jackson growls in my ear, his fingers digging a little deeper into me.
“Honey,” I plead again. “Please…that wasn’t a good time for me. Let’s not talk about Carlos. Put your hand on my cock again.”
“Mmm,” Jackson said, perking up. He wormed his way around to my front again and stroked me under the apron. I sigh. “Did I mention I love that you’re uncut?”
I blush as he tugs on my foreskin. “No.”
“Well I do. Dammit Oskar…I can still remember exactly how I felt, the moment you stepped off the plane at the airport. We had only met during the mixer in Russia the agency set up, but I recognized you immediately.”
I’m quiet for a moment. I move to drain the raviolis in the sink and Jackson trails me, still petting me. It is getting immensely difficult to think. My head is clouded with hormones and lust. I want my man to wrap me in his arms, kissing away any thoughts of the violence I experienced with Carlos. Sometimes I think about damn lucky I am, and I feel nearly sick with relief. The world rarely works out so perfectly. We were two men, seeking love, one looking for escape, the other looking for a taste of the years his diplomatic father stationed them in Moscow. The first time I made Jackson blinchiki – or as they call them here, blintzes – he actually cried.

“Honey?” I moan, my cock now achingly hard. The ravioli are cooling in the strainer.
“Yeah?” he says, distracted.
I say to him, exasperated, “Can we please go have a fuck before dinner? I am so fucking horny!”
Jackson laughs.
I feel a bit wounded. “Did I say something wrong? Is it my English? Did I not say it right?”
“No, I’m sorry love, I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing with bliss. Just when I think my life is more perfect, you say the best damn things and remind me that I still have many more amazing years with you.”
“Then let’s get living them,” I insist. I turn around and pull Jackson against me. I push my crotch against his hip. Jackson grabs my ass hard until I shout, then he reaches back and unties my apron. I pull it over my head and toss it on the counter. Our lips meet and collide, desperately drawn here and to. I flick my tongue at him, and it makes Jackson ravenous. Before I know it, he’s reaching for the olive oil and I got my legs around his waist. He pushes me up onto the counter, hisses at me to “hold on”. I grab onto the cabinet. My dick is throbbing and it’s starting to ache.
“Jackson hurry!” I whimper.
He fumbles with the olive oil. One hand is still slippery when he grabs my thighs and pushes into me. I bellow out a moan as he fills me in one push. I stroke myself while he devours my mouth again. Jackson notices me pleasuring myself and pulls away a little to watch. “Yeah, that’s it Oskar, good boy” He snaps his hips like a whip, thrusting his fat cock up inside of me. I push my thighs against him. “Yes! Yes!” I cry, momentarily lost in the satisfaction of getting what I need.

Jackson is slipping on the olive oil on the floor, so he leans against me and uses his hips to fuck me. I arch my back, ignoring the counter digging into my butt.
“More! Harder!” I love these English sex words he taught me. I feel naughty when I use them. Luckily, I use the right ones and Jackson ruts until his chest is heaving with effort. Suddenly, his glans hits my prostate in just the right way and we explode together. I scream and Jackson digs his teeth into my shoulder. I am jerking myself furiously. Cum splatters up on my stomach and coats where we’re joined. I groan as I feel Jackson’s load flood in me.

Our foreheads touch as he catch our breath.
“I needed that,” I say, matter of factly.
“That was a great idea,” Jackson agrees, nibbling my jaw. Our tongues duel for a moment before he slides out. I whimper at the emptiness behind. “Christ look at this mess,” he chuckles, setting me down. “Cum and oil everywhere.”
I grin, flustered and happy. “But that is a good problem to have. You need to change your pants too.”
“What?” Jackson glances down and sees our cum has soaked the front of his jeans. “Oh damn.”
“Why don’t we eat dinner naked in the bathtub?” I offer.
“Dinner, in the bathtub?”
“Well, we won’t have to worry about getting tomato sauce on our clothes.”
“Such a smart husband,” he coos. He kisses me again. I wish he would stop that, because I want more when he does. I had a feeling we weren’t going to be getting any cleaner in that bath, and turns out, I was right. We made an even bigger mess too.

______________________________________________________
Text is fictional. Tommy Defendi and Alex Adams. This is from Man Royale. Couldn’t find the video on their website, but it’s called Cookin’ By The Book. Here’s stills. Here’s the video bootlegged and uploaded.