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I sat on Black Lightening’s bed, sipped my cranberry vodka, and set it on his nightstand. “So this is the great lair of the Black Lightening.”
Lightening chuckled, flashing a teasing smile under his mask. His full lips and dark eyes were the only thing of his not covered in black lycra that seemed more like a liquid than a fabric. It hugged every curve of him, from his slim neck to his sloping calves to his bulge tucked under the bow of his hips. I have to tell you, it is very hard to fight crime with that jumping around in your periphrasis vision. 
“You like it?”
I glanced around the open bedroom accented with metal and glass, black and silver, with full length windows providing a stunning view over the New York City skyline. The flat surfaces were free of clutter, minus a lamp or a book here or there. The bed I was sitting on was a queen, easily, draped with a faux fur throw over a black microsuede blanket. Very soft, very fuzzy. 
“Love it,” I replied, “It’s very you. Just what I imagined.”
“You imagined now did you?”
I licked my lips. “Very much. Mostly I imagined what the hell is under your suit.”

Lightening smirked. “Now that I like to hear. I don’t mean to be narcissistic – or maybe I do – but you know, once in a while when I’m saving someone I like to be told I’m fucking sexy doing it.”
I laughed. “I like this side of you. I only talk to you when it’s all business.”
“Speaking of business, who is on call tonight?”
I sipped my drink again. “Laguna and Dr. Air.”
“Mm. That’s good.” Lightening strode toward me again. “What would they think about us?”
“Laguna would probably write fanfic about it and tell us how hot it is.”
That made him chuckle. “Probably. It better be hot or I am going to be very cranky.”
I wanted to reach for him but he was just out of range. Instead, Lightening went to the wall and pressed a button. Shades lowered from the ceiling and he adjusted them so they were angled up, allowing light to come in but not allowing anyone to see. The anticipation of the event to come was killing me. Lightening had been vague when he invited me over – “Let’s spend some time together,” but I could read between the lines of what he really wanted to be doing.
Oh, I was so goddamn horny! I kneaded my impatient cock. 

Lightening noticed, but didn’t react. “So,” Lightening begin, fussing with the blinds cords. “When did you first notice you had special abilities?”
This? This is what he wanted to talk about? Why not first kiss? or fuck? Or making out session? Cause all three were pretty good options. I sighed softly. “It happened about the same time as the rest of us, about seven. I was playing in the backyard and set the grass on fire.”
“Wow.”
“My clothes caught on fire but I wasn’t burned at all. Soon after, any time I got angry something would catch fire…my toys, my clothes. I was naked a lot.”
Lightening grinned. “Little Naked Ember. I bet you were adorable.”
“I was hung as fuck as a child,” I joked.
That made Lightening bust out laughing. “Oh my god, you are fun. Are you still hung?”
Yes, this was better topic. “I like what I have,” I answered, vaguely. 
“You want me,” he purred.
“Immensely,” I sighed. 
“You want what’s under my suit.”
“So fucking’ bad,” I begged.

Lightening walked toward me again, and stopped just out of arm’s reach. He then turned, showing me his graceful back and pert butt. “Unzip me.”
The simple request made my brain derail. I was trying to figure out how to unzip a man not wearing jeans when I realized he meant his suit. I couldn’t see it at a distance but there was a hidden zipper running down from neck to ass. So that’s how he got it on. Or off. Off was good. My drink tasted warm. Transference. Oh, he was getting to me now. I set it down and stood.

I was down to my fire-proof leggings, already shirtless. I took the two steps toward Black Lightening, feeling like I was crossing a canyon. I held my breath as my hands rested on his hips. He jumped slightly, tightly wound cable under his skin. I ran my palms up his side, up over his shoulder blades. I gave his shoulders and arm muscles a few squeezes, then trailed my touches back down. I slid my palms parallel to his spine and dipped them to squeeze his ass. “Like a fucking rock,” I murmured. “I can feel the strength in you. Under your skin. I always wondered how you could jump so far and now I can feel it. It’s all tightly wound in here.”
Lightening shuddered. “Unzip me.”
My fingers fluttered back up to his neck, feeling for the hidden zipper there. I located the flat bit and tugged it down slowly…slowly…slowly…watching, fascinated, as the black liquid parted like a river to reveal slick caramel skin. My lungs hurt and I realized I had not been exhaling. I let the breath go and my head spun. I stopped right above his ass, but to my surprise there was no stopper. There was more. I unzipped it evn further and had to suppress a gasp as it revealed the cleft between two globular cheeks. His tight hole was nested in there. Somewhere. And I would find it. 
“Now sit,” he commanded.
“But -” I protested. squeezing my own package again.
“Sit,” he instructed again.
Pouting a little, I sat. I’m glad I did. I got to watch a beautiful, private affair as Lightening peeled off his suit. His skin was healthy and damp, glistening in the dim light of the track lighting on the ceiling. I bit my knuckle. Lightening was pulling it away from his neck down, and I could see the square cut of his hair on his nape. Him. Not the character, the boy inside. He pulled the mask off of his face, but I couldn’t see it from this position. Instead, he worked like a lizard cleaning itself of freshly shedded skin. Lightening pulled off one hand, then another, then pushed the suit down to his thighs…and his genitals spilled free. The material stuck to the tip of his foreskin and tugged his member straight before coming disconnected. It retracted, making his plump balls bounce. I moaned and felt my leggings become wet. Fuck. I was going to lose it before the fun even started!

Lightening non-chalantly pulled it off his legs and feet while I started – no, feasted – on the sight of his barest parts being jostled around. “Fuck,” I muttered.
He tossed the suit over a chair. “Like what you see?”
I whimpered. “Yes.”
“Without any fanfare, Lightening turned around and showed me his face. I was fascinated and amazed. Mostly because my brain told me that it was still him. I had long about memorized his shape and counters, and even without the black layer of liquid sex I could still recognize him by his physicality alone. It was strange to see him in tones of flesh, browns and pinks, natural colors. It was pleased his hair was so dark it was nearly black. It seemed right. I lifted my gaze to meet his own.

Under the mask was a handsome face with a confident smirk. Strong cheekbones. Full mouth. A strong profile with a sharply defined nose. I admired the gentle slope of his brows, the tweaked black dusting of his eyebrows. He had such long lashes, which I knew, hiding wide and curious charcoal eyes. Of course, Lightning would be fucking gorgeous. Drop dead model gorgeous. I reached forward and grabbed his hips, pulling him to me. Lightening put his hands over my own. I felt his legs tense and for a moment I was sure he’d slip out of my grip, like how a grasshopper leaps out of your hand. 

His cock was so close to me. Thick, sausage like meat, slick and bouncy…would slide so well against my tongue. I swallowed, hard. 

“Like what you see now?”
I nodded stupidly. “Better than any dream, wet or not.”
He chuffed through his nose. “That’s what I like to hear.”
I traced the damp line of his illiac crest, from his hip bone to his cropped dusting of pubic hair. “What do you want me to call you?”
“Call me?” he repeated, distracted.
“When I’m inside you,” I finished.

Lightening exhaled a ragged breath. His cock twitched. “Tristan.”
“Tristan? Your real name is Tristan?”
“Fitting isn’t it? It has the word ‘tryst’ in it.”
I couldn’t help it anymore. I reached forward and wrapped my fingers around his stirring cock. Lightening – Tristan – moaned and took a small step back. I pulled down, moving his extra skin up and down his shaft. “Holy fuck, yes,” he breathed. “Don’t tell the media this but fighting crime makes me so fucking horny…”
“Yeah me too,” I replied, “But only when I see you.”
Tristan whimpered. “Fuck, it feels so good. What do I call you?”
“Ephraim,” I replied. 
“Mm sounds a lot like Ember.”
“Not very secretive huh?” I asked, pressing a kiss to Tristan’s hipbone.
“Mm what? No…not really. But everyone knows your face. You don’t wear a mask.”
“Why should I? I don’t need to.”
“I like my hidden life,” Tristan replied.
“So you can let boys fuck you all you want?”
“God yes, I love to be fucked.” 

Jesus Christ, I was pretty sure I came my pants already but my cock would not go soft. 
“You will be fucked,” I stated firmly.
Tristan swallowed hard. “Your hands – they’re so warm. It’s incredible. You should come massage me after crime fighting episodes…
My eyes widened. What a personal invitation! My mind drifted to the thought of getting to knead Lightening’s rock ass as much as I’d like. “Uhh yeah that could happen,” I sputtered.
“My cock is so hard right now,” Tristan murmured, closing his eyes.
I gazed up at him, transfixed. “Yeah, you are. And oh look…wetness…” I licked the tip of his crown. I could feel his entire body shudder. Another ragged gasp escaped his lips.
“More,” he begged.
I pushed him deeper into my mouth until half his shaft was cupped againsnt my tongue.
“Oh Ember, it’s been so long!
“Since a man did this to you?”
“Yes,” he breathed.
“Mm,” I replied. “You should have asked me. I worship the ground you walk on – …jump over.”
Tristan snorted. “Oh my god, your tongue is warm too!”
I tried not to giggle. He was adorable. I dipped my head and continued to lave and tease his hardness. I cupped his hip, then slid my hand back, fingers trailing over the swell of one buttock and then down…
“Oh my god,” Tristan said, and pulled a loud breath. I rubbed my hand against his hole, teasing him. Moans of his pleasure grew to tremendous volume. “Ember you must fuck me right now.”
I cupped his balls. “Right now?”
“Now,” Tristan demanded.

“If I must,” I joked.

Sliding into Tristan was terrifying, because I could feel his demon like otherness -his power- coursing through him. And I was trying so hard to keep my temperature under control so did not sear his most intimate parts. My sperm was already sterile from my own body’s power. If I hurt Tristan, I would never forgive myself.
As I sank in deeper and deeper, my emotions began to fly away from me. I let my eyelids drift down. I tilted my head back and let a moan spill from my throat. “You feel so fucking good,” I murmured.
“Don’t stop!” Tristan begged.
I pushed my palms up his back, like a cat kneading. “So tense…god you needed a fucking didn’t you? Poor Lightening. You save everyone but who is taking care of you?”
“No one,” Tristan answered. I was momentarily stunned by the raw need and sadness in his voice. A different kind of fire welled up inside me.
“I am,” I growled. “Starting now.” And then I fucked his brains out. It was a miracle that I did not set the sheets on fire.

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“Boy? Boy are you awake?”
“Mmmnnn. Yez-Zir.”
“Poor thing, you are so tuckered out from the demonstrations we did today. You were such a good boy today. Made me very proud.”
“I love you Sir. Anything for you Sir,” the slave murmured, leaning against his Master’s touch.
“I love you too boy. You are going to fall asleep in the tub if we leave you in here any longer. Give me the shampoo, I’m going to finish washing you.”
The slave flushed. Being washed by his Master sounded wonderful as it was rare. He handed his Master the bottle. Moments later, strong fingers began to massage his scalp. The reward was so lovely that the slave could not even articulate how happy he was, he just groaned. He fell asleep during rinsing, and did not remember a thing until he woke up the next morning in his Master’s bed.

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Our third anniversary was coming up. We weren’t really sure what to do. We’d already done the romantic things on the other two – a movie, the ballet and dinner; and a nice camping trip under the stars for the other. We were saving for a big Southasian vacation for number four, and number five was going to be buying a house together. But three? We were stuck. Finally, I just asked my boyfriend, “What was something you’ve always wanted to do but never did?”
And he thought about it, and then he told me, “Well – nah, it doesn’t matter, because I have a boyfriend now.”
So of course, I had to pry. “Tell meeee!”
After some badgering, he finally coughed it up. “I always wanted to hire a stripper. Like, a really hot male escort to just strip for me. Thought it’d be kind of hot.”
I grinned. “That would be hot. Ever had a threesome?”
Turns out, he hadn’t.

So we drove to the next city where no one knew us. We rented a three star hotel room and ordered in some three star Chinese food, which remarkably didn’t make us sick. We ate ice cream that was priced $3 and some change, then watched a terrible movie on the hotel television. Finally, our boy arrived. We wanted to call the third gay escort service we could find, but it turns out there was only one in the city. They sent Rick, a rather hunky bear type with a  nice pelt of fur and big thighs. I looked at my boyfriend. He was grinning as hard as I was. The guy was hot, no doubt about it. And we could both have him, with no strings attached. Tonight we could have fun, be bad, and make a huge mess, and there’d be no repercussions. Pure magic.

Rick was surprised to see two of us. We explained it was our anniversary and Rick laughed. “When I got sent to this hotel, I thought I’d be like an old burnt out insurance salesman.”
“So this is better?” I asked.
“Oh, MUCH better,” Rick purred, eyes flashing. “You two are just my type. Gonna have fun playing with my own kind for once.”
My boyfriend licked his bottom lip. “Wait til you find out we’re switches.”
Rick’s eyebrows went up. “Oh my god, and it isn’t even my birthday.”

I held his hand as he climbed up on the bed. My boyfriend and I settled in against the pillows (we brought our own), and watched Rick get started. He had brought a bluetooth stero and even had his own playlist. I glanced at my boyfriend as Rick took of his shirt. My boyfriend gave me a thumbs up.
“Happy Anniversary,” I mouthed.

He reached over for my hand and squeezed mine tight.

The trip to Asia next year was four weeks of heaven, but we couldn’t stop talking about that night we rented a hotel room in Fresno and were up to dawn with Rick the bear cub.

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gayboykink:

alphapupzade:

Cute pup!

Sooo pouncable! *wrufff*

I was reading an article on Cyprus when my boyfriend said, “I don’t think your pup likes me.”
I glance over at Mohammed – or Mo to me – who was trying to figure out one of those “impossible” finger puzzles while half-watching a 90s disaster film on TV. Mo looks back at me..
“What?” I reply. 
“I think he wants to bite me.”
I look at Doby, sprawled over the foot of my king’s sized bed. I had been dating Mo for three months now, and had decided to slowly introduce him to my pup. They were still learning to get along with each-other. “No,” I say, “He’s going to pounce you.”
Mo snorts. “No, habibi, that is clearly a look that he hates me and wants to bite me. Dogs that pounce have their butts in the air.”
I give Mo a sideways smile and turned back to my magazine. “You’re wrong. He’s deciding if he likes you, and when he does, he’s gonna pounce you.”
“I seriously think he’s already decided he doesn’t like me,” Mo insisted.
I place my thumb in the magazine and fold it closed. “And why would you think that? He was wagging when you met.”
“Cause some dogs are possessive of their Masters. In your home, in your bed, and he share your love and ownership with me now.”
“Hm,” I reply, “Well I see your point there, but Doby has never been possessive. We talked about this. As long as he doesn’t feel pushed out, we won’t see any bad behavior.”
Mo considers Doby, then went back to fiddling with the puzzle. “So you say. I still think he wants to bite me. Why is he staring at me like that?”
I look at Doby. “Hm? …Oh, you know, maybe…”
“What?” Mo asks.
I wiggle my hand behind his pillow.
“Hey what are you doing back there?”
I pull out a ball. “Here. He probably wants this.” 
Mo takes it suspiciously. “This…?” 

There’s a blur of flesh and leather as the pup pounces on Mo. 
“ARF ARF!”
Mo yelps in surprise. I laugh. “Told you he likes you. You were just getting between him and the ball.”
“Oof! Oh god, pffft he’s licking me and standing on my diaphram what do I do!”
“Throw it, duh!” I respond, laughing.
Mo hurls it. The ball bounces on the floor and out into the hallway. Doby goes after it like lightning, skittering and barking as he chased it.
I can’t stop laughing at how rumpled and frazzled Mo looks. 
“What. Just. Happened.”
I open my magazine again. “He pounced, just like I said. By the way, you better prepare, cause here he comes. And he’s gonna want you to throw it again.”

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Text is fictional.

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kris1919:

men-toys:

A message from @kris1919

😏

“Why did you give me this?” Bert asked, giggling.
“I thought it was fitting,” his man, Drew, replied.
“But I’m not naughty. I’m a good boy. I’ve stayed locked. I haven’t begged. Just…whimpered,” Bert says with a shrug.
“Well, Coke didn’t make a Chaste Boy bottle.”
“They should have. Or a Good Boy one.”
Drew chuckled. “Mmn you are a good boy, Bert, but it is my job to call you that – not you. But…hard to argue. You look so beautiful. Hairless and bubblegum pink. God, I love this pink color. It compliments my darker one. Yours is the perfect opposite to my thicker, superior, cock-”
Bert groaned. “I love your cock.”
“Mm and why is that specifically?”
“Cause it’s an alpha’s cock – you’re super hung, hairy, uncut…” Bert licked his lips. “…Can I have it right now?”

Drew chuckled it. “Coke needs to make one of these called Someone Horny.”
Bert stuck his tongue out. “If you don’t fuck me I’m going to fuck myself with the bottle.”
Drew cupped Bert’s chin and pinched it with his fingers. “Don’t be vulgar or demanding. It’s not fitting of a good submissive.”
“Sorry Sir.”
Drew patted Bert’s cheek. “I know, being super horny can make you cranky. Lie back – I’m going to give you some prostate therapy.” He set the bottle back down and began to undo his pants.
“Sir?”
“Yes love?”
Bert sank to his knees in front of his man. “May I undress you Sir?”
“Fuck,” Drew sighed. “What do they put in Coke these days? We need to buy more of it.”
Bert worked the zipper. “I dunno, but if that’s the way it works, then you should buy me some Squirt.”
Drew laughed. “My poor boy. Don’t you worry, after I’m done with your, ahem, therapy, they are gonna put you on the front of the can.”

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bondcyberrole:

ooooooh….i’m dreaming…of a white christmas

It’s never a good sign when you wake up and your boy is missing on Christmas. You woke up before your alarm, which means your boy wasn’t scheduled to present by your side for a little while longer. Yet, you expected to hear him prattling around the kitchen, preparing a special breakfast, cocoa and coffee, and getting ready to open gifts. Your boy actually has presents under the tree – mostly things he can use to serve you better or things you will use on him, but still, boxes have his name on them. But he’s not here.

Where is he? You feel miffed and concerned. Where is your boy? You feel a breeze and notice the back door is ajar. You step forward to it, pulling your robe around you. What you see takes your breath away. Outside, in two feet of snow, your naked and vulnerable servant boy is standing up to his knees in soft powder. Flakes of it pepper his hair, and his face is turned skyward. You can’t believe it. It’s a white Christmas. 

You remember for a moment that you bought your boy from a dealer that had brought his stock up from Florida. Had the boy never seen snow? You never bothered to ask. You knew he was fascinated by autumn and relished the traditions of holiday seasons, but had had he never seen snow? Truly? 

You open the door. There’s a clear path where your boy cut a path through the deck and down to the yard. You jog to the mud room to fetch your boots and coat, and pull them on without really tying your laces or buttoing the fasteners. You’re worried your boy is going to get frostbite out there. You pull open the back door, and you’re cold all over. It’s freezing. You stumble to the edge of the porch. 
“Boy,” you call gently, not wanting to scare him. He doesn’t hear you. He sticks out his tongue, trying to catch a snowflake. You pull out your phone and snap a quick photo. In the zoom, you can see he’s trembling from here. You get an idea to get his attention. With numb fingers, you wad up a ball of snow and throw it at him. It hits him square in the back and he yelps.

You laugh. If that wasn’t funny, the way he’s staring at you in surprise is. 
“Come inside, you’re going to get frostbite on your toes.”
“I’m wearing my rain boots, Sir.”
“Still, this is no weather for a boy to be naked outside.” I say, throwing another snowball at him. He ducks.
“Coming Sir,” he replies, teeth chattering.
You shake your head and throw snowballs at him until he hurries up, but he’s laughing. When he’s on the deck, you turn your back to head back inside – and then a moment later you feel it, the impact of something wet and cold hitting the back of your jacket.

You whirl around.

You can’t believe it! Your boy just hit you with a snowball. His cheeks are red and he looks terrified as he is pleased with himself. Very sheepish.

I eye him. That was easily a spank-able offense. “You have good aim,” I say, feeling generous, then turn back inside. You hear him sigh in relief. 

When you get back inside, he is noticeably shivering. His cock is so small that you’re sure he could have pulled the chastity cage off. You order him to get dressed and prepare something hot to drink while you go turn up the heat a little. Your boy bows then goes to his quarters to dress in his winter thermals.

You linger by the window, watching the snow fall, already burying your tracks and your fun. You wonder if your boy has ever been sledding, and suddenly you know how to spend your Christmas. Where in the Master handbook does it say you can’t command your boy to have fun? 

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Shit. Your jock face is on the fuckin’ news boy. I thought you told me no one would look for you if you went missing? I mean you posted that shit up and down that forum. I was so nice and go and kidnap you and now you’ve got me in a fucking mess. Shit. I was gonna wait to string you up and work you head to toe after dinner, but I think I’m gonna do it now. I can’t eat when I’m annoyed, and it’ll build me up a nice appetite.” Jim crunched the beer can he just finished and tossed it into the trash can. It missed. He snorted. He’d make the boy clean it up later. With a groan, he got up, knees cracking, and turned off the TV. “There. That’s better. Nice and quiet. Just us now. You still alive in my closet boy?”
“Mmmphh!”
“Excellent. Be right back. Gonna go get changed. Wanna look my best when you see me for the first time,” Jim chuckled and wheezed. Shit, he really should be exercising more. Wait a second – flogging a boy was exercise wasn’t it? 

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scudda:

Day LII (52) ~

… sweet dreams …

“Hey Lou – what ended up happening with your release date?”
“Oh that,” Lou groaned. “Yeah Jack let me out – we had one hell of a hot night – but Jack had a surprise for me after. He wants to make it long term. He’s really into it and taking it really seriously!”
Chet chuckled. “Poor baby.”
“I’m serious. He’s locked me down in serious hardware. Check this out.”
“Woah! Look at all that metal! Shit. Looks super secure.”
“It is, I can’t pull out of it all all. I can feel the weight in my jeans and it makes me horny but I can’t get hard. I can’t get used to it.”
“Well, it looks like you’re going to have to,” Chet said.
“Yeah,” Lou sighs, “I have no choice. He really loves me like this, and lord it frustrates me, but I have to admit – I like the attention.”
“Is that a good relationship though? I mean, would he still be with you if you refused?”
Lou threw his deodorant into his bag. “Hm. Probably. We dated for like two years before he locked me up. I think it’s kind of like a promise ring to him.” He held himself for a moment. “I think in Jack’s way, he thinks it’s kind of romantic.”
Chet laughed. “He’s a bit of a weirdo.”
“Yeah a little,” Lou grinned sheepishly. “I’m kind of grateful I guess, that he’s so interested in me for so long. Our sex life is as healthy as it ever was. I like Jack. I’m willing to make a few compromises.”
“What do you get in return?”
“Besides great sex?”
“Besides that.”
“Well, he does the dishes and laundry. God I hate laundry. Which is good, cause I leak all over everything…”
“Ha. He gets to clean up the mess.”
“Exactly!” Lou said, pointing a finger. “Jack knows he can’t ask for everything from me.”
“Well shit man. If you’re happy, then be happy.”
“I am, I am. But ya know what? I kind of like the way it feels. The weight of it I mean. Cause know one knows it’s in there, but me. Well, and you.”
Chet shut his locker door. “Yeah. We’ve have an odd friendship.”
“It’s nice having someone to talk to about this stuff,” Lou admitted.
Chet glanced at Lou’s crotch. “Yeah that’s kind of a specific thing. You think my boy would like something like that?”
Lou blinked, “Roger? You’d have to find a really tiny one.”
“Do they make those?”
“I dunno. I’ll ask Jack.”
“Thanks man, I really appreciate that.”
“No problem. Anything for a friend.”
“Hey Lou.”
“What?”
“You’re um, leaking a little.”
“What?” Lou glanced down. “Ah shit. So soon? Crap! This metal thing is pure evil!”

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Text is fictional. Source is OP I think.