Tag: male nudity

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by ccallenreese

As a child, Kevin always slept with a security blanket. He liked the soft fabric against his face, the reassurance of clutching something close. It protected him from monsters under the bed. After his father left quite suddenly, no one came to read him stories at night. Kevin began to carry the blanket everywhere until the time he hit puberty. His mother let him out of pity. Despite being teased for it, Kevin still kept it in his room even through high school. By college, it was falling apart. Kevin put it in a bag and stored it away, even though he missed it at night.

As a young man, Kevin came out and stared dating. His first serious boyfriend in his latter years of college wasn’t good to him. He slowly isolated Kevin from his friends and wrecked him emotionally, often getting violent with him. Kevin was too scared to leave him, and no matter of rough it got, he felt like he needed someone to cuddle with at night.

Until one day, his boyfriend broke Kevin’s cheek. A male nurse at the hospital became quite fond of his new patient and got a social worker involved to help stop cycle the abuse. It took weeks to pry them apart, and he convinced Kevin to get his boyfriend arrested. Kevin was happy it was over, although he had to sleep alone again. Even though he got counseling, he felt the urge to just find someone – anyone – so he wouldn’t have to be alone at night.

James knew he supposed to have a professional relationship with Kevin, but when Kevin asked to see him outside of the hospital he found himself wanting to go. Kevin was a bit of a mess, but he was sweet. He meant well. He loved to read and appreciated good food. The more they got to know each other, the more James began to worry Kevin was headed down the path of abuse again. He gravitated toward any guy who paid attention to him. He would often plead to James to stay the night, not even to have sex, just to sleep.

It wasn’t long before James pried out of Kevin the reason why he hated sleeping alone, his father, his childhood blanket… and why Kevin hated sex so much, because now he associated it all with his old boyfriend. It was hard for therapy to work for him with these distractions undoing his sessions every time he went to bed or got an erection. James did some research, hours of it matter of fact, and came up with a rather unorthodox solution.

“It’s not a blanket, really…,” he explained to a baffled-looking Kevin. “But you’ll always feel the cage there, like a hand around you at all time, but no one will be able to see it. I have the key to the lock. No one like that asshole will be able to touch you unless I approve that they’re good for you, and you don’t have to worry about anything sex related for a while. This way you can just focus on your therapy and healing. That’s all.”
Kevin needed some time to think about it, but he liked James and the liked the idea of being cared for by James. Despite his apprehension, he went for it, and took to it like a duck to water. When he needed some relief, Kevin just went to James, and James took care of it, like a nurse instead of a boyfriend.

As an adult, Kevin stayed in this sort of odd relationship for two years, the device on and off as the months went by. Various men came and went out of Kevin’s life. He was weaned off therapy. Got a “real” job in an office. Took up kayaking on the weekends. Moved out of an apartment and in with James in a small house in the suburbs.

On one particular beautiful morning out to sea, Kevin had a realization while he watched the sun rise over the horizon. He was looking forward to going home and eating brunch with James. Only James. He didn’t want other men. He wanted James, who had been so patient with him. He went beyond the call of his job title to heal him, who had been single this entire time… he had been waiting hadn’t he? Jeez, how did he not realize it?
Just the thought of James excited him. Kevin put a hand between his legs and felt the metal there so it would calm him down. Now wasn’t the time for masturbation, and gosh, even two years late he still thought the chastity cage was amazing. Kevin didn’t get why more men didn’t have one.

He turned his kayak back to shore, closer to where he’d get cell phone service. He wanted to call James and wake him up, ask him to date him, ask him if they could be serious. He knew James would say yes. After all, James had the key to his cock – why couldn’t it be the key to his heart as well?

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Text is fictional. Here’s a cheesy, sweet chastity post to start off the week. The source of the photo I do not think is the actual source listed on this post. I think it’s from here, a femdom participant on Tumblr.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

gayboykink:

Impressive ropework. <3

I can’t help but imagine how it would be to have this harness tied over a pair of underwear. It’d make some interesting, chastity like confinement… Plus it’s perfectly wearable under clothes in public. ^^

gayboykink sees the positive potential in everything. Imagine brushing against this guy in the grocery store and feeling the ropes under his clothes, then you’d exchange a look and he’d knew you’d know.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Enjoying one more round of carefree sex before our lives change forever. One more Sunday wasted indoors, tangled in each-other’s limbs, twisted up in stained sheets, kissing each other like we’re starved for love. One more day with no responsibilities or cares in the world, but when the next orgasm is coming. I crave the wonderful warmth of his cock pressed against mine, his blood throbbing in his veins, the taste of his skin. I get high off his laugh, his smile.

Tomorrow, we bring the baby home from the hospital. We stop being Jake and Evan and start being Papa and Daddy to a little girl whose family cannot take care of her. The first Monday of the rest of our lives. 18 years, at least, with another body in this house needing our attention. Having a baby will strain our relationship and push us to the brink of frustration, but I know when that happens I’ll remember this Sunday and how much I fuckin’ love him and everything will be alright.

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Text is fictional.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

lasub81:

I’m a lucky boy! I have two doms controlling and enforcing my chastity. Master Rob likes to make sure I’m horny and straining in my device by making me read erotic stories and giving him a report along with a pic of my straining fag dick.

Very lucky boy! The fun of a boy in chastity isn’t just stopping a hard on, it’s teasing him to the point of breaking out of the device so he learns to embrace being horny and craving his doms.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

He’s on his back on my bed, but it still feels like he’s trying to run away from me. It’s the way he’s completely taut and stretched out, making his flat belly concave and his ribs heave when he breathes. His head is tilted back, and he only dares to gaze at me downward, as if it’s polite to avert his eyes. He’s scared of what it might mean if he does look me head-on, unblinking. With one hand on his knee, and the other grabbing the edge of the bed, it’s like he’s holding on for dear life to avoid spinning out untethered, reeling. Poor boy, it’s just an orgasm. Why has society taught you to fear it so much?

Probably because the same society told him he was straight by default, that he’d be experimenting with girls instead. He’s wary of being with men, and confused over his feelings for them. Watching him flirt with me was like watching a kid descend the stairs in a laundry basket and flipping halfway through – hilarious and painful, yet somewhat adorable and endearing.

It would be me who would have to make the first move, I knew. Kissing him, holding his hand, each repulsed him and baffled him, as if he’d somehow banned himself from participating in homosexual love at all, as if it somehow might override any heterosexual feelings he had left – which was close to 0. He’s a silly boy, but erasing years of programming is not an easy thing. It took a year to get this far, to get him naked, on my bed. His cock is a hot rock in my hand, and I’m dripping buckets as I jerk us off together. I can see the vein in his throat throbbing. His body is enjoying this, his mind is sitting this one out. I smile down at him reassuringly. “You just gotta do what feels good, don’t listen to what anyone else says.”

He swallows hard and nods. Easier said than done. “I’m… I’m gonna! I’m close!” his face twists in surprise as if he were expecting the Easter Bunny instead.
“Let it happen, don’t hold it back,” I command, but he’s still biting his lip, resisting. God sometimes he can be so stupid, and what for? I press my fingers into the tip of his glans with a smug look on my face, and his balls compress and empty their load in a big burst of cum. He’s gasping like a drowning victim, clutching the bed with white fingers.

I lean over and press my weight on top of him, rubbing against him with unbridled bliss as I shoot onto his stomach. I want him to know what it’s like to have a man between your legs. It’s such a wonderful sensation. Warm. Sexy. Secure. I reach between us and pet his twitching cock gently.
“How was that?”
“Holy shit,” he gasps. I don’t think he expected to enjoy it as an outcome, although it was inevitable. Such a pessimist.
I kiss his jaw, even though he tenses. “I can feel you spasming against me.”
“Is that weird…?”
“No, it’s very good…that was really nice, we should do that again sometime.”
He half nods, his eyes blank marbles. He needs time to digest this, to accept the truth. He’s gay, and this is what it’s gonna be like.
“Being with a man…it’s not that bad isn’t it?” I pout. He blinks at me, wondering if I read his mind. He takes a deep breath and puts an arm around me, still silent. I freeze, wanting to say something but I don’t want to ruin the moment.

I dare say it, but I think we’re moving forward. Agonizing, painstaking progress, but progress none-the-less.

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Text is fictional. Boys are from Corbin Fisher.

Gallery
by ccallenreese

Won’t you come to bed with me? Won’t you? Won’t you caress me, squeeze my shoulder, let your gaze roam my flesh? I can’t say anything that would convey how much I want you to come over here, how much I want you to express my semen from my body. I’m too shy anyway, to ask, so I have to show you instead. Am I not desirable enough, with my young face some partners have called “handsome”? Is my ass not rotund enough, or plentiful enough? Have those hours at the gym been for nothing, do you not notice my waist or the way my back muscles roll under my skin? I even got a pedicure, no thick callouses on my feet to scrape against the sheets, nails clean and scrubbed.

My body language says “I’m offering myself to you”, don’t you see? I’m spread wide open for you, accessible, eager. I’ve lifted my hips just forward enough to tease you by offering just a glimpse of my masculinity between my legs. My balls are full and low enough to rest on the mattress. Don’t they beg for a hand? Your dark hands would also look so artistic gliding over my ass, wouldn’t they?

I’ve picked this room on purpose. It’s so sterile and white, the sheets bleached and the walls scrubbed. I might be white but against the colorless palate I nearly glow, a sign of health and warmth. Aren’t I inviting? Won’t you please come over here? I’m too shy to ask…but I want you, more than breathing or eating. For years, I’ve wanted you, my eternal crush. Please… I beg with my eyes. I hold my breath.

He seems frozen in the doorway, momentarily stunned by my presence. My chest is starting to burn from lack of oxygenated air. Finally, finally he lets go of the doorknob and begins to walk over to me. I exhale so quickly I’m afraid I’ll pass out. He approaches me and strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers. I kiss his thumb, giving him another look of hope.
“You waited for me?” he asks, barely audible.
I nod.
“Through Hal and Scott and Lars, you waited?”
I nod.
He kisses the top of my head. “Thank you,” he whispers, then goes to lock the door.

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Text is fictional.