Gallery

wysir:

ig: maxiaohuiss

“Well I’m not super comfortable sending nudes over Grindr, but I’ll send you this picture of my butt in this red underwear I just got if that helps,” Jesse wrote.
“It might help.” Ray was on the fence if he wanted to leave the house tonight for a hook up.
“Sent.”
“Oh I like the framing with the snake plant. You have a lot of plants?” Ray said.
Jesse texted back. “I have like 4. I’m newish to plants, though. You know about them? I think that snake plant needs to be repotted, and I’m kind of unsure how.”
“Oh ho. Look at this.” Ray sent a photo.
“GASP. Oh my GOD. You have a greenhouse??”
“It’s technically a small sun room. This was my grandmother’s house and she kept some plants in here; so when I inherited the house, I just continued …and here we are.”
“I am so jealous, they all look so healthy and gorgeous.”
“Thank you. They are my pride and joy. And listen, I would be happy to help you repot that plant of yours, but it is getting a bit late. Are you free tomorrow evening?”
“Yeah, I usually leave work about 5:30. I was going to make porkchops, if you want to come over? Or we can go out.”
“If you’re offering, I’d love that, I’ll bring a dessert,” Ray suggested.
Jesse sent a bunch of heart emojis. “Would love that, just not a fan of warm fruit, by the way.”
“Me neither. Send me a good time to head over and your address. And wear the red underwear.”
“You bet I will. ”

When the conversation ended, Jesse rolled over onto his back on the bed and clutched his phone to his chest. So a top wasn’t coming over to fuck him and do something about his horniness, but a plant daddy was coming tomorrow to breed him and he was thrilled. “I cannot believe my plants are going to get me laid.”

After Ray left the next night, Jesse got on his knees and gave the snake plant a big kiss on one of its leaves. “Enjoy your new pot, you earned it.”

____________________
Captions are fictional.

Gallery

John got a text on his phone: “Get over here right now, Markie is about to work out.”
I jumped on my bike and pedaled half a mile like an idiot through the streets of Boston to get to John’s house. I walked in like it was no big deal, red in the face. John pressed a beer into my hand and guided me to the sofa. The TV was on. I plopped down and watched Markie do push ups. He was wearing this tiny pair of red shorts – my favorite color – that barely covered his muscular ass. The V-shape lead my gaze down between his legs to were his balls bulged. The cropped shorts also provided a peek of the pure white straps of his jockstrap which gave me a stupid boner almost immediately. I sighed again in contentment and adjusted myself, then crossed my legs.
Markie paused and looked over his shoulder at the sound two people sitting on the sofa. “Am I bothering you guys? I can do this later if you want to watch TV.”
“No, it’s fine. We can see the TV fine,” John said smoothly. I nodded and sipped.
“Cool,” Markie replied, then went back to his work out.
I looked over at John; I mouthed ‘you are the best straight friend ever’ and we shared a fistbump. God, I had such a crush on Markie. I liked to think he was keeping his body primed for me, you know, for when I actually got the courage to go after him. No one knew if Markie was gay or straight. I would get to the bottom of that eventually, but for now, I was perfectly content with the view. I had even long-ago forgiven him for being a Cubs fan in Boston.

____________________________
Text is fictional.

Gallery

This must be the God of Virginity Lost and his basket of popped cherries of sweet young men who surrendered theirs in exchange for the most intimate, carnal pleasures. All ripe and red and beautiful, the God examines and cherishes his newest additions.

Source:

carmeloblazquezjimenez:

COLECCIÓN VERANO: El Ladrón de Cerezas (SUMMER COLLECTION: The thief of cherries )

Photographer: Carmelo Blazquez

Model: Chache

Gallery

I’m going to bed early to sleep off this cold, so here’s your late night ballet photoblogs a bit ahead of schedule. Can I file this under the red underwear tag? Hell yes.

The dancer himself is Raphaël Coumes-Marque, with the SemperOper Ballett of Dresden, Germany. Here is performing a ballet called The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude directed by William Forsythe. I think. I got that from like three different languages – French, Croatian, and English.

William Forsythe)
William Forsythe)
The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude