Tag: kissing

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Have you seen my coffee? I set it down some-”
“I put it by your keys so you wouldn’t forget it.”
“Ugh, you know me so well,” he chuckles.
I smile. “I do. Don’t forgot we have dinner with my parents after work.”
“Uh huh,” he says, hurredly shuffling papers into his briefcase. “Didn’t forget. I won’t be late.”
“Good. I’ll meet you there with Olivia. I’m taking her to her check-up at 9, and then getting groceries.”
“Don’t forget barbeque sauce,” he says, latching the case.
I blink. “Oh that’s not on the list, thank you. Did you have enough to eat?”
“Yes. I gotta go love. Gonna be late.”
“Hey hey wait!”
“What?” he asks, a bit flustered.
I grab his tie and pull him in for a kiss. “Just that.” I begin to release him. “Oh, and one other thing.” I pull him close to me again and whisper in his ear. “I’m going to come by at lunch-time and let you fuck me in the bathroom.”
He’s speechless. I give him another kiss on the cheek and smile as I smooth his tie. “Have a nice day at work, honey.”
“I – I will,” he stammers. “Thank you.”

He gives me a hungry look, then reluctantly leaves for work. Two minutes later, I’m chasing him down the driveway with the portable coffee container in my hand, Olivia squealing happily at my side.

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Text is 100% fictional. The gif is from the TV show Shameless, but the text is not intended to portray their characters.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

“Alright, cat. Talk.”
“Mraow.”
“Don’t be coy with me. Where is it.”
“Mraaaoow.”
“I know you know where it is. It was sitting right here. My ring, I wear it all the time. You know, on the hand I pet you with? Where is it.”
“Mraow.”
“What did you do with it? What do you want? Money? Catnip? Power? Well, you won’t get a lick of it without my ring back!” Ethan insists.
Mrs. Fluffington licks hers paws.
“Don’t you pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about!”

I watch from the recess of the hallway, smothering my giggles behind one hand while filming the scene with my phone in the other. Ethan smacks the table with his palm. “Where is it! Talk damn you, or I will make you talk.”
The cat jerks her head up at the noise, looks at Ethan, then stands up and headbutts him. Ethan sighs and begins to scritch her behind the ears. “Yeah, yeah you like that huh? Feels good huh? Right in that spot. Weellllllll now you won’t get anymore until you tell me where the ring is!”
“Mraaaaow.”
Ethan growls in frustration as Mrs. Fluffington rolls to her side to show off her belly. He narrows his eyes
“They taught you well in cute school. You won’t break easily. Crafty cat. Wait…did you eat it? Did you eat my ring?”
“Mew.”

I know I should really just step in and give Ethan the ring back, but this is far too entertaining. I had taken the ring to measure so I would know what size band to get for his engagement ring. It’s going to be the big surprise for Christmas. Thing was though, Ethan never takes his father’s high school ring off, which made it difficult to measure. When I saw that Ethan had left the ring on the table before he went outside to clean out the gutters after last night’s storm, I made my move. I hadn’t expected him to come back in so soon though, and now I had inadvertently framed my cat.

“Purring are we? That’s a bold move, Mrs. Fluffington. If that even is your real name. You aren’t even married. I know this, I have your file. Talk, kitty, it’s for the best. If you talk, I won’t have to take you into the medical room. Mwuahah. Is that what you want? You have ten seconds to talk. Your adorableness won’t save you this time.” Ethan said in a cartoon-villain sort-of-voice.

I can’t contain myself and my laughter catches his attention.
Ethan swivels his head around until he spots me. “How long have you been standing there?” he asks, sheepish.
“Long enough,” I reply with a smile, tucking my phone into my pocket. “You’re good at that, I think she was about to crack.”

Ethan picks up the cat and snuggles her like a baby. “I seriously think she ate my ring though.”
I make a show of sauntering into the living room holding up his ring in one hand. “I have your ring. I took it to polish it. She was sniffing at it, didn’t want her to eat it or knock it on the floor.”
Ethan’s face melts in relief. “Thank god. Scared me there. I always get so nervous when I take it off.”
“Sorry love.” I kiss his cheek. “I didn’t expect you to come back in so soon. Are you done already?”
“Nah, I had to use the bathroom.”
“Aah. Do you forgive me?”
“I think I can,” Ethan says with a smile, kissing me on the lips. I show him the ring I polished. It only looks marginally shinier.

“Man, I’d go insane if I lost it. I still feel the hole he left behind.”
I cup his bearded cheek. “Your dad would be so proud of you, all your accomplishments. Your weight loss. He’d be pleased that you grew up into such a handsome man.”
Ethan lets the cat down so he can pluck the ring from me and turn it in his fingers. “I would hope so. I often wonder how he would feel if he knew I was in a relationship with a man.”
“Hm. I think he would be a bit freaked out at first, maybe a bit hostile, but once he got to realize you were the same son, I think he’d be ok with it. Besides, I like football, I think we would have bonded.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Your mom likes me doesn’t she?.”
Ethan nodded. “Yeah she does. Joel?”
“Mm?”
“You know…” he slides the class ring on and off his finger, distractedly. “I wouldn’t mind wearing your ring next to this one day.”

I smile, my heart aching for how much I love this man. He’s making it very hard to keep my secret, well, a secret. I almost crack and propose right there and then. I take his hands into my own.
“I think we are moving in that direction for sure, Ethan,” I say slowly. “That’s something we can absolutely discuss more after Christmas, when we can look at our budget and see just how much we spent spoiling your nieces.”
He makes an exaggerated wince. “Yeah I think we bought the whole toy store…”
I chuckle, and nuzzle him. Ethan returns my affection and kisses me. I volley it back. He smells kinda nice, all outdoors-y. One kiss turns into two, two into four, four into… well.

After some time of standing there, with our hands roving over each-other’s torso’s, Ethan breaks the connection.
He sounds breathy. “Hey uh…you know, I really need to go finish cleaning the gutters before it rains again tonight…”
“…but?” I pry.
“But I was thinking, I would much rather have sex with you right now,” he admits, looking sheepish.
I suppress a groan. I love it when Ethan announces his intentions so bluntly like that. It didn’t use to be this way. His history was mostly with women, and it took him a long time to come around to his lust for me.
“Jesus Ethan,” I sigh. “I would love that. We’ll just do a quick one, alright? So you can get back to those all important gutters.”
“Juuust a quick one,” he agrees.
“Maow.”
We both look down at the black and white fuzzball weaving around our legs.
“And that means keeping the door closed so you can’t get in.”
“Man it’s so weird the way she likes to watch us,” Ethan says. I laugh, and then I take his hand and escort him upstairs.

I can barely wait for Christmas. He’s going to be so surprised.

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Text is fictional. Sequel is here!

Gallery
by ccallenreese

dominatingpowerbottoms:

Awww how cute. All those tops amusing themselves while patiently waiting to be called.

Jonathan needed some help dealing with the stress of finals week. Luckily, the other guys assigned to his team science project understood his suffering. They made sure his mental and physical health concerns were addressed properly, in succession, until Jonathan was so relaxed he nearly melted off the table. They received extra points on their assignment for such an excellent display of teamwork.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Harris Phelps unlocked and opened the front door. He initially would have been suspicious about a knock on the door at 8 pm, but he was almost sure he knew who was on the other side.

“Hello Daniel.”
“Hi,” he said sheepishly, clutching his backpack against his slim, pigeon chested form like a shield.
“Things bad tonight?”
He nodded, looking at his feet. “Lotta screaming. He punched me pretty hard in the shoulder, I can feel the bruise forming already. I am so behind on my homework, I don’t know if I can catch up during the Thanksgiving break. I really want to graduate this year. So I was um…hoping…for tonight…”
“I understand. Come in.”
“It’s ok?”
“Yes, it’s always ok.” Harris stepped back and gestured into their two-story home.
Daniel sighed in relief. “Thank you Mr. Phelps. Is Shane ho-”
“Danny?”
He looked up the stairs for the source of the voice. Harris’s son rushed down the steps at the sight of him, his face furrowed in concern.
“Aww Danny. Is everything alright?”
He shook his head and sniffled. “No, it’s not. We’re short again this month. He said it’s my fault we can’t have Thanksgiving.” He began to weep and Shane swept him into a hug. “Shh shh it’s not your fault.”

Debra Phelps came out of the living room to see what was going on. “Oh it’s Danny again. The poor dear.” She put her hand over her mouth, and looked at her husband with a questioning eyebrow. Harris nodded. She tsked and shook her head, standing back to let Shane comfort his boyfriend.

Harris shifted on his feet, feeling awkward, watching his teenage son embrace and lovingly pet another teenage boy. He was trying to be accepting but it was so foreign to him. He coughed. “Um, did you get dinner Danny?”
He shook his head, still buried in Shane’s neck.
“I’ll fix you a plate.” Before Danny could answer, he was gone.
Debra rolled her eyes. “There he goes. Are you two going to go upstairs for a bit after this, or do you want the living room to yourselves?”
Shane gave his mother a look of gratitude. “We’re gonna go upstairs I think. Danny’s worn out. I think he needs a meal and some rest.” He was rocking Danny side to side as he said this.
“Make sure you check him for bruises. Take pictures of whatever you find. This is the last straw. After the holiday weekend, we’re going down to the police and settling this.”
Danny lifted his head. “Mrs. Phelps, I really appreciate all your family does for me, but I’m going to be 18 in April. I just want to get over this and move on.”

She pursed her lips. “You can’t let him get away with hurting you.”
Shane interrupted. “Let’s talk about this later alright?”
Debra pressed her lips together but didn’t reply. Harris came back into the room with a plate and a cup of iced tea.

“Thanks so much, Daddy. We’re gonna go upstairs for a bit.”
“Alright now. The guest room should be prepared.” He passed the plate and glass to Shane, and clapped Danny on the shoulder. “Get some rest.”
Danny nodded.
Shane carried the items upstairs with Danny at his heals.

Mrs. Phelps had a lot to say to Harris after they went to bed.

___________________

Upstairs, Shane and Danny camped out in Shane’s room for a bit. Shane checked him over, took a picture or two. He was alarmed to find Danny shaking and his skin cold.
“Why didn’t you wear your coat over here silly?”
“It doesn’t fit well anymore,” he explained, smoothing his shirt down. “God, I can’t believe how much homework I have to do. I just wanted to do my homework, how hard could that be?”
“Shhh…. you don’t have to fuss over that now. We don’t have school until Monday.”
“I’m so behind!” Danny cried, his hands trembling as he went for his backpack. “I just wanted to do my homework and graduate and and -” he was beginning to hyperventilate.
Shane took the backpack out of his hands. “Danny – Daniel! Stop. Stop. Look at me.”
Danny was so surprised to hear an adult voice come out of Shane that he forgot to hyperventilate. It was so reassuring to hear him be firm with him, to be in control of things. Shane was his rock.
“ Look at me. Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. It’s ok. Your homework is going to get done. I’ll help you. The library is open on Saturday.”
Danny nodded. Shane noted the bags under his eyes, the sallow hue to his skin. He gave Danny the cup of iced tea to sip, and coaxed him into eating some porkchops by hand-feeding him with the fork. It wasn’t long before his appetite reared up, and he devoured everything on the plate, much to Shane’s satisfaction. It was easy to coax him into the guest bed for a long night’s rest.

They let Danny sleep in the next morning. Shane made pancakes and bacon for everyone. It was a simple morning, but for Danny the domestic stability was a soothing balm to his jittery soul. He ate as much bacon as he wanted and felt like a prince. He joined Shane outside to rake leaves, and they ended up playing in the piles. Shane was delighted to hear him laughing. After, when they tumbled into the house with red cheeks, they were given tea and ended up helping Debra peel apples for pies and potatoes for the mashed spuds for Thanksgiving dinner. Harris prepped and stuffed the bird.

As the late morning faded into early afternoon, Danny began to feel increasingly out of place. An aunt was on her way for the feast. The grandparents were coming in an hour. Shane was looking devastatingly handsome and grown up in fitted tan corduroy slacks and an oatmeal and navy sweater. Danny felt ugly next to him in ripped jeans and an old T-shirt. When the family was distracted by a situation involving a shortage of water glasses, Danny slipped upstairs.

He returned a moment later with his old backpack off one shoulder. He stood in the entryway to the kitchen, shuffling his foot against the carpet.
“Um,” he said.
Shane straightened and looked up at his boyfriend. “Danny?”
“I um – it’s getting late. I don’t want to be in your way when your family comes. I bother you guys too much and overstay my welcome as is, so I’m gonna go. Thank you for everything. Again,”
Before anyone could answer, he made his way to the door.
“Danny!” Shane called after him.
“Daniel wait.” This time it was Harris.
The young man froze in the hallway. “What?” he asked, suspicious.
Harris caught up to him, Debra behind him.

“It’s ok if you stay,” said Debra.
“But I’m not part of your family…it’s a family holiday,” he said weakly, his arms tightening around his backpack.
Debra took his arm and walked him to the dining room. “Come here a second. "Look at the table. There’s ten chairs. It’s me, Harris, and our son. Then it’s Harris’s parents, my parents – that’s 7. Aunt Megan, and cousin Reyna is 9. The other one is for you. We set a place for you.”

Danny just stared at the chairs. He worked his jaw a few times, then looked at Shane for support. Shane was giving him a warm smile, obviously in on it.
“I – I-.. I-”
“Dammit Danny, you helped make the pie you at least gotta eat that,” Shane said in an exasperated tone. His quip broke the tension and they all shared a laugh. Danny brushed tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Well, there’s a little more than eating pie.” Harris put a large hand on his wife’s shoulder. We were going to ask you later, but I think it’s appropriate now.“ He glanced at Debra. Debra nodded and put her slimmer hand over her husband’s. Confusion formed on Shane’s face. He wasn’t in on this.

Harris cleared his throat. "We would like to invite you to stay with us for the rest of the school year. We’re not going to be using our guest room for the time being, as Patricia is off studying abroad for the year, and it’s obvious you need some stability in your life. Plus, Shane likes you, and I think it’d be good for you.”
“Oh Daddy do you mean it?” Shane gasped. “You really mean it? Mom? Is he telling the truth, Danny can stay with us?”
“Yes,” she said with a nod. “It’s the best thing. I can’t sleep knowing that his daddy is going to put Daniel in the hospital one of these days. We’ll set the deadline at May, and we’ll go from there. Daniel? How do you feel about this?”
Danny’s face was blank. He walked over to the table in a daze and ran his fingers over the rim of the plate with his name card on it. His lower lip began to tremble and he collapsed into a squat and buried his face into his backpack. His entire body shuddered, wracked with sobs. “Yes,” he said, the words thickly muffled.
Shane dropped to his kneels and put a supporting arm over him.
“Yes, a million times yes!”
Debra sniffled and even Harris had a hard time swallowing his emotions.
Shane got Danny to stand up again by offering more hugs.
“Seriously, thank you guys,” he blurted out, hiccuping. “You have been so amazing. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you all.”
Debra found herself opening her arms for a hug too and Danny was eager for the love.
“You just thank us by getting good grades.”
“And uh,” Harris coughed and gestured to Shane. “You two keep it appropriate ok? I know you’re um, dating, but we do mean it when we say separate rooms.”
“Dad!” Shane hissed, turning bright red. Danny groaned and wiped his face on his shirt.
“We’ll be good Mr. Phelps. I swear. Shane is so important to me, I wouldn’t risk it. I just want to graduate, and try to figure out what I’m doing after high school.”
He clapped Danny on the back. “Good. That’s what I want to hear. Now put your backpack away, I need your help in the kitchen with-… Megan, how long have you been standing there?”
“…Am in the middle of something?” she asked, her daughter peering around her legs.
“No,” Debra insisted, putting on a winning smile. “Not at all. We were just having a family moment. Shane, go find something for Danny to wear. Meet us in the kitchen.”
He nodded and stole a sniffling Danny away.

“Who is that?” the stray aunt asked.
“One of Danny’s friends. He’s going to be staying with us for the time being. Problems at home.”
“Oh, is he? Such a sad-faced boy. Poor lost lamb.”
Debra nodded sympathetically and went to get her a glass of wine and some juice for Reyna.

Upstairs, Danny was trying on one of Shane’s button up shirts. Shane had taken a few minutes to allow Danny to wash his face and then he himself combed Danny’s hair back into a ponytail. Danny eyed his clean-cut self in the mirror as he got the top button done on the shirt. He turned around and looked for Shane’s approval. Shane beamed.
“You look handsome. Now let’s find you a belt so my pants stay up on you…”
“Wait, Shane…seriously. I really need to thank you first. Your family is awesome. I just want to say that I really appreciate this. I love them and you so much.”
“You love me?” Shane repeated, flushing prettily.
“Yes. I really do. You’ve shown me such kindness, how could I not?”
Shane cupped Danny’s freckled cheek. They leaned in toward each-other and shared a sweet, light kiss. Danny swallowed a lump in his throat. He hadn’t felt anything so wonderful in a very long time.
“Happy Thanksgiving Danny.”
“Happy Thanksgiving to you too Shane. You know, for the first time since my mother died, I actually feel like I have something to be thankful for this year.”
Shane couldn’t hold it in anymore and finally had to wipe away tears too. Danny kissed them all away.

_____________________________________________
Text is fictional. Source is OP. Happy Thanksgiving~

Gallery
by ccallenreese

We nuzzle, intoxicated by the warmth of eachother’s cheeks. We kiss. We’re on a public street, a little sidewalk cafe, but it feels like we’re the only ones in Paris, like the world revolves around us. My fingers are so intertwined with his own that I cannot even pull my hand away to pick up my glass. So I keep grasping, and kiss him again.

He’s wearing this cologne – just a dab – made of flowers grown specifically in France. He’s so French, so painfully French, and so fashionable in turquoise and leather slippers. I feel worthless and uninteresting in a grey suit, another American businessman bumbling through Paris trying to make a name for himself. I know I only have value to my company because no one else wanted to get on that plane for this three week assignment.

Yet, I am not angry that I got pushed into this trip. It’s been the best three weeks of my life. My head is still full of images and scenes from yesterday when I spent the night.

“Please don’t go back,” he begs, his voice full of so much hope and pain. I was so shocked that he would say those words to me. What does a Parisian boy need with an American lover? Aren’t we on a lower rung, in the ladder of accomplishment? Isn’t it usually the other way around, the boring American pining for a romantic European heartthrob? We kissed more, our ice melting in our glasses.
When I dodn’t answer, his voice grows tight with need. “Please…stay here. I cannot put you on that plane to Washington DC. I cannot, now that I know you exist.”
“Jean Luc…” I breath, weakened by his accent which was heavy during his confession. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes,” he whimpers, looking oh-so vulnerable. “You would crash with me. We’ll get some place bigger. Some place with a better view. Your French is getting better every day. You said your company wants to extend your visit right? Offering you a job here right? For gods sake, please, take it, or my heart is going to break.”

I think for a moment about what this all means. It is not a deep, philosophical event. I had already weighed these options in the shower this morning, because I suspected I would reach that state of lunacy by lunch. I had been right. It would mean packing everything up in my apartment and sending it overseas. It meant not seeing my family as often, but they would likely visit. It meant starting over. New cafes. New barber. New doctor, new optometrist. It meant breakfasts with fresh pastries and tiny coffees. It meant learning all the dirty French words first. It meant holidays around Europe and trips to the country-side where we would spend most of our time screwing in lavender fields, no doubt. It meant a life with Jean-Luc. I had known him for three weeks. He rescued me after I got lost after taking the wrong train, and he’d been by my side ever sense.

“Oui,” I say with a smile. “Yes.”
Jean-Luc gasps. “You really mean it?”
“Well, I have to talk to my office and tell them I accept their offer to extend my temporary assignment into a permanent post. Then, there’s visa issues to work out.”
He kisses me hard and squeezes my hand so hard I fear it might break. “We’ll work them out!”
“Jean Luc, just remember – I’ll have to go back to DC to pack. I have to give 30 days at my apartment. What if you fall out of love with me then? What if, after a week of not having me here, that you come back to reality and our chemistry is gone?”
“That will not happen.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I am going to come back to DC with you.”
Now it is my turn to gasp. “Can you?”
“I have time off work, and I can telecommute for a bit. I want to see your American life before I steal you away.”
I gawk at him, my heart throbbing. It is true, what people say about the French being romantics.
“Yes,” I repeat. “A million times, yes.”

I am a lunatic. Maybe that is the American way, to confuse passion with irrationality. Maybe so, but right now, I am so happy I can’t even speak for fear of crying. Because it is the right answer. I am moving to Paris. I will be his.

_______________________________________________________
Text is fictional. From photographer Braden Summers’ All Love is Equal Project.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

My frat brother woke me up at two in the morning.

“Max, wake up! Wake up. Come on, it’s an emergency.”
I flailed. “Wh- what? What’s going on?”
“You need to come downstairs right now. It’s your friend, Gordy.”
“Gordy…?” I asked. “What is he doing here?” He lives two hours away.“
"Oh you’ll see.” I squinted in the light coming in from the hallway. Steve was pale as a sheet.
“Shit, what happened?” I asked, throwing off the sheets. I was glad I decided to wear boxers to bed that night.
“You’re gonna puke,” was all Steve said. I bolted down the hallway and ran down the stairs. When I saw Gordy standing in the entrance way, I gasped. He was covered in blood; one eye was starting to swell shut and his nose was crooked.
“Oh my god,” I said. “Gordy…Gordy what happened sweetheart?”
When Gordy saw me, he began to cry. “Max!”
“Shit.” I walked up to him and embraced him a solid hug, letting him sob on me, not caring about his blood getting on me.  Steve was hanging back on the stairs, with a couple other bros who were curious about the fuss.
“Gordy who did this to you?” I asked through clenched teeth. I felt rage and bile rise in my throat.
His voice kept hitching from his fit and it was hard for him to talk clearly. “My – my- my dad, he be-be-eat me up after catching me kissing another guy.”
“Oh Gordy,” I sighed, rocking him. Gordy had been out to me for years. I’d always been somewhat worried how his father would take it when he found out, and I was furious that my premonition was right. I was seeing spots in front of my eyes from how angry I was.
“Is the other boy alright?”
“Yes.”
Did you drive all the way here…?” I asked.
“Yes,” he hiccuped. “I stole my dad’s car. Mine died a while ago.”
“Good god. Ok, let’s get you to the hospital, Gordy.”
“No,” he whimpered.
“You’re hurt and…jesus, I think your finger is jammed or broken or something.”
Gordy glanced at it, then looked up at me. “No, I want to go to sleep with you. Don’t leave me alone please.”
“Shh shh. I’m not,” I whispered. “We’re going to the hospital, then you can come back here with me.”
Steve piped up. “It’s totally cool if he stays here.”
“Thanks man.”

I got my keys and my wallet and my flip flops. Steve gave me his shirt. I walked Gordy to his dad’s car and put him in the passenger seat. There was blood all over the place, but I didn’t even care.

The emergency staff were horrified to hear what happened. They called the police and we filed a report. I mentioned how the car was “borrowed” and we’d be returning it in the morning so we could get Gordy’s things from the house. I asked the police officer not to his arrest his father until that was settled, and the Detective graciously said she’d work with us. The doctors set Gordy’s nose, braced his finger, and cleaned up the blood. We slept together in bed that night, him pressed against me, my arms around his trembling form. It took a while for the white anger to fade enough so I could sleep.

The next day, after breakfast, we drove back to Fishers to return the car. Steve drove my truck down behind us, it’s bed full of empty boxes we scrounged up under a tarp. The plan was for us to all carpool back. Gordy was quiet most of the trip. His bruises had darkened over night and he looked terrible. I held his hand when he seemed to need it most. Gordy and I had grown up together, best friends. He was a year younger than I was. I went off to university and he stayed local to earn money as his family was not well off. I hadn’t expected for us to see each-other again like this though, and I was not happy.

When we pulled up to his father’s house. I told Gordy to wait in the car. I waited until Steve pulled up, then I got out and walked over to tell him the same thing. I then went into the trunk and got the shotgun out of the back.

Steve saw it first, and yelled at me to put it away, but I told him to sit his ass down. Gordy was staring at me with wide eyes from his dad’s car.

I knocked politely on the door, and waited until his father answered.
“Oh it’s you, you faggot piece of shit that corrupted my son. What do you want with that? Gonna beat me up with it? I bet you don’t even know what to do with it. Here’s a hint. You don’t stick your dick in the hole.”
“Thanks for the tip.” I cocked the trigger and shot him in the leg. Behind me, Steve screamed. Gordy’s father collapsed to the floor, baying like a wounded dog. The bullet had lodged right above his kneecap. I kicked him aside, then turned around. “Alright, Steve, bring the boxes in. Get Gordy. Pack his stuff and any photo albums he wants to keep.”

Gordy got out of the car and threw up. He looked better afterwards. I dragged his father in to the living room and sat there with my gun trained on him while Steve and Gordy wordlessly packed up his belongings. His father was still making a terrible amount of noises, crying and cussing at me. Adrenaline and hatred suppressed any guilt or fear I felt. No one hurt my Gordy. Absolutely not, and especially not for kissing a boy. Not on God’s green earth. I had to resist shooting him again, and settled to just telling him to “shut the fuck up, pussy”.

I waited patiently, singing folk songs under my breath as the boys packed. Boxes came down first, then full laundry baskets, followed by bags. Gordy rescued his favorite mug from the kitchen, and a picture of his deceased mother from the living room only mere feet from where his father had been rendered immobile. They raided the coat closet and the basement, and within an hour, Gordy’s presence had been erased from the house. I whistled happily as it all went along.

Steve called my name.
“Yeah?”
He drank from a water bottle he found in the fridge. “We’re ready.”
“That’s everything? Bathroom, closets, cabinets, etc?”
He nodded. “Gordy is fitting the last of it in the truck. It’s gonna be a tight fit. Good thing you got a truck. Boy has a lot of stuff.”
I chuckled. “Yeah I figured. Not a lot of furniture though right?”
“Nah, just a lamp he liked.”

“Alright. Bring me his dad’s car keys would ya?”
Steve did. He threw them to me, and I caught them with one hand. I looked down at Gordy’s father, who was staring at me with utter hatred from a fetal position. I threw the keys onto his ground. “Here’s your car back. Sorry it’s got some blood in it, but that’s your fault. Listen to me. You ever come near Gordy again, I will aim for your head. Got it?”
His father spit at me.
I cocked the gun and shot him in the ass. The howls began again. “You know, Mr. Miller, being gay really isn’t all that bad. Having a little soreness in the ass is actually pretty nice.” With that, I collected the shell casings and left the house.

Once back by my truck, I called the police department back home. “Detective Mitchell? This is Max Tucker. Yeah it’s about Gordy. You can arrest his father now, but you’re gonna have to do it from a hospital.” I then hung up and called 911. I didn’t stay on the line like they asked.

By the time the ambulance arrived, we were gone. Three of us, crammed into the cab of my truck, the empty shotgun in the back. No one said a word, but Gordy cried on me the whole way home. It was a long drive back to the university, and my entire body ached from the tension and adrenaline mixing with testosterone in my veins. I drank my water and kept silent too, thinking about my actions. I did not regret what I had done to his father. I vowed to never again let Gordy stray far by my side, and that was a vow I kept.

________________________________________________________
Text is fictional. The model is Evan Peters. This story in no way intends to depict Evan Peters or make projections on his personality or sexuality.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

lookingfortheman:

I’m the kind of guy who still believe that a kiss can fix everything….

There was my pride, and there was him. I could have walked away, using the pieces of my bruised ego to build a wall around me to block logic out. I could have convinced myself I was right. But I wasn’t. And I knew it. Admitting you fucked up, that you over-reacted is one thing. Telling him that is another. Is that what television had taught me, that it’s not masculine to admit you’re wrong? and when a man is wrong, aren’t they supposed to just charm their way out of it?

Caspian would have seen right through that through. He would have not been amused at being brushed off. There are a lot of guys that want to date Caspian… but Caspian likes me. The First Argument in a relationship is the benchmark between celebrating monthly anniversaries and annual ones. If I skirted this, it wouldn’t be long before Caspian brushed me off. I needed to apologize, no matter how much it stung if I wanted to keep my man.

I texted him and said I wanted to meet up. He didn’t respond, and I started to panic. Then, an hour later, “Hey sorry, my phone died. I’m around. Come over.”

I drove over there, nervous. I parked the car and got out. He was waiting on the walk up to the house.
“What’s up?” he asked, casual and cool. I sighed. It would be easier to walk away from this fuck up if I wasn’t so smitten with him.
“I … I….”
Caspian looked at me, hopeful. His gaze still held a bit of pain from the stinging words I threw at him. I leaned forward and dared to kiss him. Caspian didn’t pull back. He just stared at me in surprise.
“What was that for?”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, “I’m sorry Caspian.” I dropped my gaze to the ground. “I fucked up, I took things out of context, and said some really hurtful things… I was having a bad day and just blew up. I feel really awful, god. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Caspian tilts my chin up his fingers. “Hey… it’s alright.”
“It is?”
“Yes. I’m really happy that you came back. When I told you to ‘get out’, I was pretty terrified that you wouldn’t ever come back. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“No no I totally deserved it.”
“Yelling doesn’t have a place in relationships. You only should yell right before you cum,” Caspian says with a teasing smile.
I melt as the relief flows through me. God, he’s handsome. I put my arms around his neck. “I see. Does this mean we’re still… you know. Together?”
Caspian tilts his head and kisses me back. “I hope so. Mmn. I missed kissing you.”
“You can do it again if you like,” I say eagerly, giddy he’s taken me back. “I owe you anyway.”
Caspian nuzzles me. “Let’s go inside. We got time to make up for.”

_______________________
Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

livingundersexualthirst:

“Come up!" 

Pierre sat on the edge of the bed and stretched. Then, he heard a click. Then another click. He turned and looked at the window, and saw a pebble bounce off of it.

He jumped up and peered out. Lucas was standing on the sidewalk below. Pierre opened the windows. "Good morning Lucas! Nice to see you, but what are you doing here so early? You have class today don’t you?”
“I do but – I just wanted to see you. I was hoping we could make love before school started?”
“Shhh!” Pierre laughed. “The whole street can hear you.”
“I don’t care,” he said back with a smile. “I’m mad about you. Can’t stop thinking about you. Every curve of your naked body fills my dreams, I see your smile when I blink, and I yearn for the warmth of your skin when you’re not here. I woke up this morning craving you.”
“Awww….Lucas!” Pierre blushed a bright red. “That’s- that’s just so sweet. But, love, people can hear you, sshh.” Some strangers on the sidewalk had stopped to see what was going on.
Lucas didn’t seem to care. “Please allow me to see you this morning? To make love to you so I can pretend we live together and I am greeting you with the sun?”
Pierre couldn’t shake the goofy smile on his face. Even if his entire block was getting an earful of this, he still loved dating a top that was also a romantic. “Oh for goodness sake.”
“Come on down, Pierre.”
“I’m not wearing clothes,” he admitted.
Lucas laughed. “Now who cares what the neighbors think?”
“Well, they’re gonna hear us soon anyway! Come up, my bed is still warm.”
Lucas made a noise of victory and ran up the stairs after Pierre let him in.

Once back in the room, he wasted no time kissing the lad and letting his hands roam over his Pierre’s nude body. He was still warm from sleep, and Lucas wanted in him immediately. Lucas cupped Pierre’s low sac in his hands, massaging and pulling while he kissed his mouth. He manipulated and teased the boy until he’d forgotten all about those people gossiping on the sidewalk.
“Bed, Lucas, please,” he gasped.
Lucas tore off his clothes in a hurry and pulled Pierre back into his own bed. He ignored his own cock, more fascinated Pierre’s own. He parted the boy’s legs and put his tongue to work, lapping at the swollen skin and pulling each testicle in his mouth. Pierre was soon moaning and wrapping his legs around Lucas’s head. He pushed the tip of his cock through Lucas’s lips and thrust his hips forward, desperate for the sensation. Lucas put his hands on Pierre’s thighs and held him still as he suckled, getting him nice and randy while he slid a finger between the cleft of his buttocks.

Lucas parted his lover like a flower opening its petals, sliding two digits into his interior with just enough oil for it to not be too slick. Pierre cooed and swore at the wonderful sensation rippling outward. “Oh Lucas!”
“Shh shh…” Lucas lapped at the fluid beading on the head of Pierre’s little fat cock.
“Enter me,” Pierre pleaded.
“Not yet.” Lucas took his time to enter two more fingers and work them to stretch his lover.
When Pierre warned Lucas he might shoot at any moment, the fingers and lips withdrew. Pierre unbraided his legs and let Lucas pull himself. He dipped his head to kiss Pierre, then lifted his legs and pushed the tip of his cock into his body.
Pierre gasped and clutched the bedsheets.
“Relax sweetheart,” Lucas murmured. Pierre tried, but Lucas was misreading the situation – he wasn’t tensing because it was painful but because it felt so good to be full that he tried to clamp down as hard as he could. A reassuring hand massaging his stomach got Pierre to relax, and Lucas pushed the rest of his cock in. Despite the early morning hour, he was already sweating from the effort. 
“God I needed this, I needed this so badly. You’re the antidote to my insanity, Pierre.”
“Lucas, you will always be a little crazy, but I love you anyway.”
Lucas chuckle and kissed him. “Can I move now?”
Pierre nodded.
Lucas kept his thighs up and watched himself disappear in and out of that perfect lily white ass. “Yes… yes…oh god, Pierre, you feel fantastic. You needed this as much as I did.”
“Be quiet and fuck me,” Pierre demanded, in one of his rare bossy moments.
Lucas felt a growl of possession rise up in him. ‘Yes sir.“ Their lovemaking took an intense turn and Lucas took Pierre as hard as he could, pushing the boy up the bed and into the nest of pillows. Both ignored the open window, allowing their cries to spill out to shocked passerbys. Their fornication seemed to go on for hours, and even the most puritanical pedestrians had to wonder if there was something special about heathen sex.

Lucas demanded Pierre stroke himself, and his eyes darkened as he watched his lover pleasure himself as he stimulated him from inside. "Good boy… you are so beautiful Pierre.”
Pierre blinked at him, his eyes wet. “I’m going to cum!”
“Come with me!”

Their lips met at the same time as they peaked, spilling their cries of passion down eachother’s throats. Lucas dug his toes into the bed and emptied his seed into Pierre’s tight velvet passage. He moaned deeply as the climax came in deep, throbbing waves. Pierre whimpered as the tingly sensation in his balls became a knot in his stomach, then the whole thing turned inside out and suddenly his belly was splattered in cum.

They rested there, locked together, until both of their cocks were soft and spent, but even then Lucas didn’t want to pull out. He wished to stay in Pierre forever, and Pierre felt the same. They were panting hard, flushed and pink.
“Oh Pierre…” Lucas murmured. “Oh my sweet Pierre…god, you just unravel me.”
“You were right Lucas, there are few better ways to greet the day than being thoroughly taken.”’
He snickered. “It does feel good doesn’t it?”
“Mmnn…but you know, I never cared for this type of penetration until you.”
“Really?”
Pierre yawned. “Yes. Something about you…makes me just fly.”
Lucas gave him a fond look. “Oh Pierre, keep talking like that and I will have to marry you.”
He raised his head. “We can’t marry, the church won’t allow it.”
“Oh fuck the church!”
Pierre gasped.
“God created us in his image right? Then God must have put us on this course. If the church won’t recognize love, then that’s their own fault.”
“Lucas, when did you get so bold?”
“When I fell in love with you,” he admitted.
Pierre knew he could be won over with pretty words. He smiled. “Well if you want to marry me, do the proper thing and give me a ring.”
“Can I put it on your cock?” Lucas asked.
Pierre threw his head back and laughed. “Oh you and your ideas!”
“One for your finger and your cock then?”
Pierre playfully punched him in the shoulder. “Can you afford that?”
“I’ll make them out of bread.”

That sent Pierre rolling again. They continued laughing and touching for the next half hour, until grumbling stomachs and their ripen scents caught their attention. A bath and homemade breakfast capped off the morning. Lucas showed up to class exactly one minute late, a very smug look on his face.

__________________
Text is fictional.