Tag: making out

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fuckyeahdudeskissing:

Fuck Yeah Dudes Kissing. A place to see men kiss on Tumblr. Submit a kiss.

“Good morning.”
“Oh there you are. I was wondering where you went. I woke up, and the bed was empty.”
“Aww, don’t pout. I went to put on the coffee pot,” Damien replied.
“Mmn, coffee.”
“And look, I brought a friend,” Damien said with a smile, holding up Dustball.
“Aww you brought the chinchilla! Aw come here, baby, daddy wants to say hi,” Tristan cooed, holding out his hands.
Damien passed him their pet and Tristan snuggled the little fuzzball to his bare chest. “Aw you are so cute. Good morning.” He gave the chinchilla a kiss.
“What?” Damien said, “I don’t get one?”
“You made me wake up with a empty bed,” Tristan teased.
Damien scoffed and crawled back in. “Am I such a bad boyfriend that I wanted to kiss you with a clean mouth?”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m gonna get it dirty again. Get over here.” Tristan leaned forward and pushed against Damien for a deep, morning kiss.
“Mmnn….mmnnnn…oh god you are so good at this,” Damien chuckled.
“Cause you got the best lips, I swear,” Tristan replied. For a moment he forgot he was holding the chinchilla, until Dustball begin to squirm.
“Oh, I think our baby wants his breakfast,” Tristan noted, pulling away regretfully..
“I want breakfast,” Damien replied.
“So do I but…”
“But what?” Damien asked.
“Fuck me before coffee?” Tristan begged, reaching forward to rub Damien’s half mast erection under the sheets.
Damien moaned softly. “You fucking bet I will. Go feed your baby, then bring me the lube.”
“We can’t just…do it first?” Tristan asked, distracted.
“You want Dustball to watch us having sex?” Damien asked.
Tristan looked down at the thing, and made a face. “Ookkaay Dustball let’s go get your breakfast.”
Damien laughed. “Bring coffee when you come back! I got the lube right here.”

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Captions are fictional. Lol, that chinchilla, wth.

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thelambwhoruledlions:

It’s almost sweater weather!

“You like this sweater?” Brett asks.
“Yeah,” I grin, “You look good.”
He snorts. “Aren’t you punny.” He smiles anyway, and our lips meet for a searing kiss.

“Mmnn…” Brett purrs. “I liked that.”
I bless him with another, and start snaking my hands into his clothes as our make-out session intensifies. Almost involuntarily, I start tugging on them to get them off. I want to suck him. I want to get my mouth on him soon so I can feel him hardening against my tongue.
“Hey babe?” Brett asks.
“Yeah?” I ask, muzzy headed.
“If you like me in this sweater so much, why are you trying to get me out of it?”
I blink at him, momentarily knocked off my predictable orbit. He gives me a smug look, waiting for a reply.
I clear my throat. “Well, because I think right now, you don’t want to be in that sweater.”
“Oh?”
“I think you’d rather be in me,” I finish with a grin.
Brett groans. “That was terrible. But good. And you’re not wrong. I was cold a moment ago. Why is it suddenly so warm in here?”
I take my off shirt.
Brett oggles my abs. “Oh. That’s why.”

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Captions are fictional. Guys might be Elias Vikstedt and Lari Väänänen but I can’t read Finnish to tell if that’s true or not.

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Seamus held his breath as the comet traveled upwards, leaving little sprinkles of light in its wake. Then, it exploded into a thousand speckles of white. He screamed and covered his ears in shock.
John tore his eyes away from the spectacle to look at Seamus, his brown furrowed with concern. “Are you ok?”
“I just – oh my god!” Seamus laughed. “It’s so loud! Fireworks are ridiculous!”
“I can’t believe you haven’t seen fireworks before,” John marveled, putting an arm around Seamus.
“Well, not a lot of 4th of July celebratin’ going on in ol Ireland,” Seamus noted. A trio of explosions went off and he gasped. “Oh it made a spiral thing!”
John smiled. He had a hard time deciding what to watch – the fireworks show or Seamus’s face. He had been smitten with that charming, shy boy who came to study at Harvard from a distant, green place. Every since John had spotted Seamus in the library, he’d been infatuated. When John heard that Seamus didn’t have any plans for the 4th of July, he insisted that he come with John for a picnic on the roof of his dad’s work building. They could see nearly every firework in the city of Boston.

And it was just Seamus and Jonathan, up on the roof, all by themselves. Seamus squeezed John’s hand tight and squealed. “I love this!”
John squeezed back. “I do too. Ah, look it made a heart!”
“It did!”

They snuggled close, watching the show. After the display wound down to just puffs of colored light, Seamus looked at Jonathan. Jonathan swallowed. They were so close. Jonathan gazed at Seamus’s handsome face, admiring his sweeping cheek bones and strong nose, and those light brown eyelashes that went on forever. He felt himself lean in toward Seamus as if pulled by a magnetic force. Their lips met, and a swell of happiness filled Jonathan from head to toe. He couldn’t remember a time in his adulthood or life when he’d felt the bliss of love so fully, or experienced a kiss that left him feeling like he could float.

They parted. Jonathan licked his lips. Seamus tasted like flag cake. Seamus was blushing hard. “That was my first kiss in America.”

Jonathan was about to respond, when a long whistling shriek caught their attention. They both looked up as a massive firework exploded in a shower of red, white, and blue. They both jumped at the noise.
“In ainm Dé!!” Seamus shouted in surprise.
“Wow!” Jonathan said at the same time.

The finale left them both captivated and slack jawed as the pyrotechnicians let off everything they had left. When it was finally over, they could hear applause ring all over the city. Jonathan joined them, whooping and clapping.

Then, it was over. They gathered up their picnic, the roasted chicken and potato salad and green beans that Jonathan prepared had almost all been eaten. The two held hands as they rode the elevator down to the first floor.

On the sidewalk, Jonathan called a Lyft despite the price. They dawdled and talked until the car finally came. Seamus pouted after their goodnight kiss. “I had a lot of fun tonight, Jonathan.”
Jonathan glanced at the car, and at Seamus’s face. “Would you like to come back with me and stay the night?”
Seamus brightened. “You mean it, lad?”
Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to go,” he admitted.
For a moment, Seamus looked like he might cry. “Me neither.”

They got into the Lyft together, and went back to Jonathan’s place. They went on to make their own fireworks that night.

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Captions are fictional. Happy 4th of July.

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fuckyeahdudeskissing:

Fuck Yeah Dudes Kissing. A place to see men kiss on Tumblr. Submit a kiss.

There’s some important quiz thing you’re supposed to be taking, but you hate chemistry and you’re much more interested in physical reactions than chemical ones. Mainly, physical reactions named after elements like Peter, the strong jawed rugby captain of your high school team. Hot studs like Peter were always straight and resigned to fantasies of bulges in jock straps and fooling around in the shower.

You always showered in gym after most guys in your gym class left because you couldn’t bear the sight of all that hot, young cock strolling around the locker room. Teenagers are often far too casual with their nudity – boys especially – and you couldn’t take it.
But day after school you were showering, late as always, and Peter had stayed behind to run some laps after classes. Of course, he walked in on you jerking off in the shower, holding a jockstrap some kid forgot about. Humiliating.

Except – Peter then asked, in a nervous voice, if he could join you. You didn’t know what he meant by that, but it soon came about that he wanted to help you. you nearly fainted from nervous apprehension, but if Peter was curious about other guy’s penises then you were of course going to let him explore yours. Of course. Duh.

Peter though, was a wild boy. You fell totally under his spell. You both gave eachother an outlet for sexual energy, and Peter was spilling over with it. So when he texted you to duck out of class in the middle of a test so you could make out in the boy’s bathroom? Of course. Duh. It’s only a quiz. You could make that quiz up later when your thoughts weren’t full of Peter’s hardness in his slacks searing hot and throbbing against your hand.

You had a bit of an issue explaining to your parents why your chemistry grade dropped from an A to a B though.

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Captions are fictional.

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The party was thriving right outside the simple, pressboard door but it might as well have been in a separate dimension. I could hear the thump of the Spotify playlist I made, and the occasional sprinkle of laughter or shouting from a drunk guest. It was Christmas in New York, and we had passed our exams and we were all going a little crazy, being a little bold. It must have been the champagne though. I mean why else would I get up the courage to flirt with that guy in my life drawing class that I been pining for all semester? 

Santa must have decided I deserved a present early, or maybe Todd was just as drunk I was, but soon he was pulling me away from the noise and activity to a spot where we would be alone. We found a place, then a chair.
I had always prayed he was a top. It wasn’t like me. I was stereotypically gay as they came but I still didn’t like the idea of being a sissy. I imagined myself to be more of a power bottom than I actually was, but Todd saw right through me. He knew to put me on his lap and assert himself and hold me in place.

Todd’s hand on my side tickled a little, and the heavy pressure of it made my heart flutter. My cock also found it very interesting.
I didn’t have time to linger on my rising panic as the bulge in my pants grew. Todd nuzzled me, then gently guided my chin forward with his artistically skilled fingers and pressed his lips to mine. My brain shut down. 

How long we sat there like that, gently kissing, I’m not entirely sure. I know at some point, the door opened and the party rudely spilled into our private space. It was loud and ugly and I wanted it to go away. I know someone said, “Hey Todd have you seen ….ohhhh about time” and then the door closed. But I didn’t look up to see who it was. It was in another dimension, you see. Far away. It did not concern me. I was living in the present, happily being seduced by a beautiful boy in a fine blue shirt with a perfect chin that fit right between my fingers. 

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Text is fictional.

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“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!”

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

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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.”

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Text is fictional.

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“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.

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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.