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He’s the reason my econ homework isn’t getting done right now. I can’t stop thinking about him and the way he took me last night, how he handled me, how he made my ass feel so special that I rode a man for the first time ever. He made me feel special. All those kind words he used on me…baby, sweetheart, said my ass was magical, that I was an angel, my skin was dove soft, how I made the most erotic moans, how the hourglass shape of my back was beautiful, and he loved the way my skin rippled over my muscles  Said I had the best hips for grabbing too.

He rubbed his cock against my entrance to make me horny and eager, and I felt no shame when I finally took it inside of me. I owed it to him to make him ragged and breathless and dizzy with my body, and I did. Our climax was the most violent, passionate thing my body has ever survived, complete with vertigo as my balls turned inside out and I gushed cum like a broken sprinkler.

That was how I always imagined sex, real sex, not fumbling with clothes and condom wrappers and “hey what’s your name again?” as I’m bent awkwardly over the sofa and penetrated without being prepared right. 

I sighed in surrender and threw my highlighter over my textbook. Daydreaming of making love with him is making my pulse quicken and my jeans tight. Fuck it. I grabbed my phone and sent him a text: “I have leftover BBQ ribs and beer. Bring condoms. Now.”

I got a reply back almost immediately: “Thank god, I can’t stop thinking about you. Leaving now.”

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Post is fictional. Inspired by a comment by sweeeetb1. Models unknown are Ben Driver and Anthony Romero from Guys in Sweatpants.

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porno-graph:

      I see him pissing in the light of the streetlamp, close to the basketball hoops in the park. Long after the arc of urine stops, he stands, his cock erect, his pants still open to reveal it. I hesitate, looking at the way the light molds his arms, Levi’s, and tennis shoes. His hair covers his face, so I don’t know if he’s inviting or challenging. Taking a deep breath, I walk over so that I’m sure he hears my footsteps. He holds his pose until I’m almost next to him, then turns his head.

     “Want to smoke a joint?” I ask. He nods his head and we walk into the darkness, his dick stiff and proudly arched.

Nice to see some fresh content from porno-graph. Damn that is a great picture.

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Twenty minutes now. He was late. The waiter stopped by my table, his brow furrowing in concern, “Your date still isn’t here yet?”
“No,” I sigh, “He’s not picking up either.”
The waiter clucks at me, “You poor thing, I hope you don’t get stood up. Here, I brought you a coffee, on the house. No fun sitting there drinking cold water.”
When he set it down, he let his hand brush against mine. Our eyes met and he glanced away before a blush rose to his cheeks.
“Thank you,” I smiled, “I love coffee. Do you have cream by any chance?”
He was trying not to smile and bit on his lip, “I do.”
I watched him sashay off, bending over the bar to ask the bartender for a little thing of cream although he was supposed to get it from the kitchen. Oh he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Richard!”
I glanced up. “You’re Kenneth?” I stood up and shook his hand.
“Hi yes, I’m Kenneth nice to meet you. So sorry I’m late. My ex, ugh.” He sat down and buried his face in a menu, “God I hope this place isn’t too expensive…”
“You picked it,” I reminded him, trying to recover from his whirlwind arrival.
“I didn’t have time to check the menu before hand, sorry.”
“…Ooook.”

When the waiter brought the cream over, he looked startled to see the other half of the table occupied. He looked crestfallen and set the creamer down without a word. He went back over to the hostess stand to gossip with the girl there; they both looked at me. She shook her head.

The date was not going well. Kenneth was distracted, kept checking his phone too much. He was rude to the waiter, then got petulant when I defended him.
“What’s wrong with being a bit swishy?” I demanded.
“I just…I mean if you’re gay, why advertise?”
I scoffed. “It’s not advertisement, it’s confidence!”
Kenneth rolled his eyes. “Why are you defending him, he’s just the waiter!”
I was on the edge of a good rant and hyped up on caffeinated coffee, “He might be just a waiter but he’s been more polite than you have been, by far.”
Kenneth glared at me and snapped his menu shut. He was busy checking his phone again and didn’t see the waiter come up behind when he said, “Uh whatever, I bet the waiter isn’t even homo. That nose of his, he’s kind of ugly, I dunno who’d want to sleep with him.”

The color left my face. The waiter’s face collapsed in hurt and wounded pride. “Wait!” I called as he ran to the bathroom. “Shit!”
Kenneth looked over his shoulder, “What? Oh was that him?”
“Fuck this shit. Get out of here Kenneth the date is over. You were late, you’re rude, and you’re more interested in your phone than manners.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Oh I can.” I threw down my menu and left the blond open-mouthed at the table. Other waitresses and guests were staring. I made a dash to the bathroom where I found the waiter sulking in a stall; his eyes were red.

“Hey…” I knocked, “I’m so sorry he was such a dick.”
The waiter sniffled. His accent came out heavier when he was upset, “My mother said my nose gives me character..”
“I like your nose,” I added.
“Really?”
“Matter of fact,” I said, “If I’m receiving your broadcasts correctly, I’d rather sleep with you than Blondie McRudepants out there.”
“…You would?”
“How about right now?” I shut the stall door behind us and bolted it shut.

The waiter’s eyes went huge. I stepped toward him and he met me halfway, our mouths colliding in frantic kisses. I undid his belt and his nice slacks melted to the floor like ribbons. I began to pump his cock to get it nice and hard, my fingers wandering to the back for his pussy. He moaned and pushed his ass out. I gave it a good hard smack, made him suck on my fingers, then I pushed my wet digits into him. Kenneth was wrong, he’d definitely been fucked before. My eager bottom radar was rarely wrong. Oh he was so horny. It was delightful to feel his flesh expanding in my hand.

I tore at my pants until my own cock was free; too distracted for buttons, I just went with the zipper.  When he saw it jutting out, he whimpered. I slid another finger into him and his whole body shuttered.
“What’s your name?” I was speaking directly into his mouth.
“Otto,” he replied, the words muffled cause I was playing with his tongue.
I pushed him against the cool tile wall and spread his cheeks with my hands. I pulled a condom and a tube of lipbalm out of my pocket and coated my cock with it. Emergency methods.

I was in him in seconds, his body just swallowed me up into his guts. “Oh fuck Otto!” I grunted into his shoulder, working that ass as hard as I could in crepe soled shoes on a slick tile floor. The sounds of my torso and balls smacking against his ass resonated in the empty bathroom. “Touch yourself, do it!” I barked, busy with both hands around his waist. He obeyed instantly, happily jerking his pert cock.

“I wonder how many other customers you’ve fucked right here in this bathroom…you live to serve, and serve to live don’t you?” He whimpered an “oh god yes” and came the second I pinched his nipple through his white dress shirt. When his body seized around mine, I filled the condom with the load of cum I’d been saving for the blind date. Our breathing was entirely too loud in this silence.

Otto cursed in a language I didn’t know, then said, “Oh my god, …christ…”

“Lick my hand.” I put it in front of his face, “Lick your seed off my hand.”
He did so without question, his tongue getting every groove. I bit off a groan as it slid between my fingers.
“Now the wall.”
Otto hesitated, but he was a good boy and dropped to the floor to lick the wall clean. 

I tied off the condom and when he stood, I slid it into his vest pocket, “I want you to carry this all through out your shirt to remind yourself what a good bottom you are. And this is for your excellent service.” I slid a $50 in there as well my card with my number on it. I gave his ass a squeeze. “Call me.”

I left him fucked and dazed, pantsless in the restaurant bathroom. His hole was still twitching from the loss of my cock and the scent of sex lingered heavy.

When I came back out to the dining area, Kenneth was gone. I didn’t care. I had a great time. Two days later, Otto left me a voice mail: “Hellooo. I really enjoyed being your waiter that evening. I was wondering Would you like to make another reservation?”

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Source:

troyisstillnaked:

DAMIEN CROSSE + KAYDEN GRAY_ALPHAMALE

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boywife19yo:

Powerless to resist Daddy’s desires

Marco pretty much had enough of seeing vapid models with perfect chins today. He was never ever going to find the perfect boy for his client’s underwear shoot. His secretary stuck her head in, “Mr. Kittridge? There’s another model here, the agency sent him at the last minute.”

Marco almost sent him home, but squeezed the bridge of his nose and said, “He better be hot, send him in.”
“Erm…hello?”
The recruiter looked up and ogled the young creature slinking ito his office. He seemed to have brought a fresh breeze in with him, his words were so light and airy. He was gorgeous, curvy in the right places and a bit vulpine in his looks.

“Pose for me.” Marco demanded, not even caring about his name.

The model smirked at him and discarded his shirt, then toured around Marco’s office using every piece of furniture as a prop. Marco watched him bend over, stick his ass out, cross his legs, suck on his finger… oh he knew exactly what he was doing, and Marco’s quickening pulse attested to that.

After fifteen minutes of this, he told the lad to stop and stand there. He walked over to the model and pinched his chin, pulling it upwards. “You want to be ravished, don’t you?”

“I want the job,” he said, licking his lower lip.

“Fuck, you got the job the second you walked in here boy, but I see that bulge in your pants and I have a feeling it’s not the job that’s doin that. You’re all worked up, forget to masturbate this morning?”

His eyes were bright and glazed over. “Why don’t you check?”

And there went Marco’s professional decorum. He pulled the model close, devouring his mouth and lips then trailing kisses down his chin. The nameless siren groaned in his ear as Marco’s hands rounded his waist and slid down his pants. The model pressed against his leg and the recruiter felt a cock hard as an unripe banana press into his thigh. He unzipped the boy’s jeans and reached in to cup his package clothed in a jockstrap.

“Looks like you did forget.”

He got a whimper in response. Marco dragged the model over to his desk and made a quick call to his secretary not to bother him. Now, they were truly alone. Marco unraveled the lad, first with his hands and his mouth trailing down his neck until his exposed sex organs were red and dripping. He stepped back and admired that sight, wishing he had a camera. Stunning. He existed to be put in front of a photographer’s lens. Marco slid a condom over his own engorged cock and fucked that boy’s ass until he was positive the entire office could hear that model screams of bliss as he rode it back, demanding to be done harder. Well, if Marco’s staff didn’t know he was gay, they would now. 

That whirlwind meeting turned out to be a fruitful relationship for them both – the promiscuous young man that walked into Marco’s casting office that day wound up as Male Underwear Model of the Year 2008. Rumors flew abound over his dirty relationship with his recruiter, that they had been caught fooling around in limos, in restaurant bathrooms, in hotel hallways. They denied everything of course… but the hickies and the way the model walked told another story. Of course, it didn’t help that he never called the man “Marco”, but always “Daddy”.

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Rest of the photoset with names is here. I didn’t find that link until after I wrote my story so the similar plot is a coincidence.

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“Hey,” he grinned, posing in my window like some sort of over-sized Peter Pan.
“How..how did you get up here?” I gasped, “In your underwear at that…”
“I was a monkey in my past life.”
My eyes roved over his trim body and heavy bulge in his pants. I’m a rather famous actor in the ‘States and came down here for vacation and to study for my new role. Met this young thing in a cafe and he showed me around… well, that ended up with us making out behind a temple. He had no idea who I was and I wanted to take him to bed so badly, but someone had tipped off the paparazzi and they were crawling around the hotel like roaches. I hadn’t been able to focus since I sent him away, still hard and whimpering. 
“Where are your clothes?” I laughed.
“I didn’t want to tear them climbing up here, so they’re in a locker… the beach isn’t far, no one bats an eye here.”
I tossed my book on the nightstand and walked over to where he was standing in the window. I ran my palms over his thighs, then licked his soft shaft through the cotton. “Ay yai…” he groaned. That was it. He was mine. I slipped a hand under the garment and grabbed him by the cock, pulling him of the ledge so he stumbled with a yelp into my hotel apartment, “You won.” I said, “Now get into my bed, I’m going to teach you how Americans fuck.”