“Damn, that boy just jizzed in my hand and now he’s letting another alpha have his way with him! What a slut! I hope he’s still around later when the party ends.”
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Captions are fictional.
Tag: shirtless
you know, sometimes I just lay back and think “fuck it’s good to be me”
“Does that whole ‘fuck it’s good to be me’ mentality include the part where I just want to worship and suck you and have you fuck me because you’re so hot?” I ask.
He looks at me with that entitled smirk I love so much. “It does now. That part is pretty nice. Matter of fact, I think my refractory period should be about over. I’m going to fuck you again right now.”
I rub his bulging bicep. “My ass is yours to use when you desire Sir.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Of course it is. Your ass would just be a regular butt if I didn’t grace it with my cock. And you will show me gratitude for elevating your status as my bitch.”
I squirm as I’m getting very horny, “Yes sir. Of course Sir.”
“Now get the lube and ride me. I’m comfortable and don’t want to get up.”
“Yes sir, of course Sir. May I clean you with a warm washcloth before hand?”
A pleased smug looks crosses his face. “You may. I would enjoy that. My cum is all dried on from the last time I put it up you.”
“Should I offer a plug so it stays in this time?”
“What a smart considerate bitch! Gosh, I wish there were more boys like you.”
“I don’t,” I say under my breath.
He hears me anyway and raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Cause then I’d have to compete with them for you.”
An honest look of fondness crosses his face. “What a lovely thing to say about someone. You definitely factor into the it’s-good-to-be-me mentality now, for sure.”
I blush and feel warm all over. God I love his attention! Every, sticky, sweet, sexy, drop.
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Captions are fictional.
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.
I gawked. He must have had 1% body fat on him. A pure male god of carved muscle – python thighs, a huge ass in high denim shorts, a triangle torso, big pecs… fuck he was hot! My dick thought so too. The man’s mouth was moving too, and it took a second for me to realize he was talking to me.
“I’m sorry what?” I said, shaking my head.
The man huffed. “Do you know where I could get a broom or a net or something? My hat blew into the water.” He pointed.
I looked. His baseball cap was floating on the water, thanks to the foam on the tracker style hat. The man looked distressed. “That’s my favorite hat,” he added. “My dad bought it for me, just before he died. Said it wasn’t right for a Mets fan to not have a hat.”
Holy shit, this guy was not only smoking hot, but also a Mets fan? The weird male urgency to do shit to impress people kicked in. “I got this.”
“What? You do?”
I took my phone, wallet, and keys out of my pockets. “Hold this.”
“What? Wait – you’re not-”
I threw my shirt on the dock, kicked off my sandals, and dove in. The water was cold and had an odd, marine smell to it, but it wasn’t terrible. The shock of the temperature felt pretty good because of the summer heat. I swam over to where the hat was bobbing and drifting away, and snatched it. The man cheered. Some people nearby clapped.
When I got to the dock, I gave the hot guy his hat back. He beamed at me. “Thank you so much man. Here, let me give you a hand.” He set down my stuff and hauled me out of the water with nearly one hand. Dude was strong!
I stood on the dock dripping. I pushed the water out of my eyes. “That was refreshing,” I stated.
The man was clutching his hat to his chest. “I can’t thank you enough. I um, was gonna do that but I’m scared of water where I can’t see the bottom,” he admitted.
My heart was racing. Hot, into the Mets, and sensitive – plus he had a good relationship with his dad. Prime boyfriend material. I swallowed. Please god let him be gay. “No problem man. I never got to know my dad, so I’m happy you got your hat back.”
The man smiled wistfully. “Sorry to hear that. Damn, you are wet. Ya know I don’t live that far from here. Why don’t you come over and dry off?”
Both of my eyebrows went up. “Uh. Bluh. I mean. Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”
His smile was radiant . “Awesome. Let’s go do that, get something to drink. You like craft beer? I got this sampler…”
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Captions are fictional.
You hadn’t realized just how special he was to you, just how deep he’d gotten under your skin. You didn’t realize just how much your life had interwoven with his. You never noticed that you stopped just planning dates, and just ended up just naturally seeing each-other several times a week. You had tooth-brushes in both places, underwear and socks. It was getting to be time to talk about moving in together. Even with only one anniversary behind you, you were sure they’d be a second.
You had plans to watch Sunday football together, but he never called you. Confused, you called him. He didn’t answer. Then his mother called you. There’d been an accident. Another driver blew a tire and lost control on the freeway. The man who meant the most to you was alive, but it was bad. Not something a quick trip to the operation room would fix, but bad bad. As in – we’re-not-sure-if-he’ll-ever-wake-up-bad. Swelling in the brain. Bone fragments. And other stuff. His team won the football game today.
When the hospital finally kicked you out after visiting hours ended, you didn’t know where you to go. It was hard to drive through your tears. You found yourself driving to his house. Halfway there, you remembered that his dog had been left alone all day. You rushed to take care of Cashew.
Cashew greeted you, confused but happy to see you. You let him out and cleaned up the puddle in the kitchen. You filled his bowl, changed his water. Cashew was happy to take a romp in the yard, and delve into dinner, but after he ate, he noticed something was wrong. He looked around for his Master, then looked at you expectantly. Cashew’s tail stopped wagging. He whimpered. You knelt down and hugged him close.
“I’m going to be taking care of you for a while,” you murmur, tears falling into his coat.
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Captions are fictional. Sequel is here.
The photo was followed by a rather terse text message: “OK. I agreed to pay you AND took a photo of me posing almost naked with a bottle of Tide over my junk. NOW will you come over and help me for fucks sake?”
Taylor howled at how angry Mark looked. Taylor had just moved into a new place with his new Daddy, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before Mark realized just how much Ty did around the apartment. Taylor didn’t mind housekeeping, nor did he mind doing things for men he thought were particularly hot and might fuck him later, but over time it became obvious that Mark was just taking advantage of him – and he lied about being bi. Dude was straight as they came.
So once Ty met someone, he gave 30 days and moved out. Ty gave warning – “you know we won’t be able to do our laundry together once I move out’ – but Mark brushed him off. Ty suspected Mark thought he’d just find some girlfriend to do it for him, but his current girl, Stacey, was a fierce law student and didn’t have time to play maid for him.
Ty had enjoyed every pleading text message from Mark. Ty’s new man said it wasn’t nice for a boy to tease and be rude to another man who had made mistakes, but that didn’t mean Ty couldn’t get a little fun out of the situation. That picture was worth it alone.
“Ok ok, fine. I’ll come help you get the apartment fixed up, per hourly rate I suggested. I’ll be there in an hour. After this, you’ll have to hire a maid.”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll get around to that later.,” Mark texted back. “Just get over here.”
Ty rolled his eyes. Mark needed a Daddy of his own to fix that procrastination habit of his and to fix his snarky attitude. A rather naughty idea popped into Ty’s head. He knew where Stacey went to class in the morning. He wondered how much talking it would take to plant some seeds in her head about how she could boss Mark into shape…
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Captions are fictional.
HOWLS! It’s the weekend!
Bethany walked out to the bar’s patio with a tray expertly balanced on one hand. “Hey there Clifford! I thought I heard that distinctive howl.”
“I really don’t know why he feels the need to announce his presence here,” his keeper Archie said with a chuckle. He was being facetious, but Archie really loved it. In real life, Clifford – Cliff – suffered from social anxiety and rarely spoke outside the house. Pupping let him be free.
“I think howling’s just how he tells me he’s ready to order,” Bethany said with a wink “Be right back.”
Archie shook his head, and pulled his pup away from her legs. “You’re such a silly pup.”
Bethany went to drop off the beers at the right table, and returned. “Ok, so water for your pup’s bowl, and for you?”
“Let’s get him the sausage. For me, the wing sampler, with the pickle, and a pitcher of …whatever lager is good. Friend’ s joining me in a few.”
“Gotcha.”
“Be right out. Aww Clifford you are so cute. Good puppy.” She gave him a scritch. Clifford made more howly noises before Archie shushed him, and Bethany ducked back inside.
In this part of town, gay bars weren’t anything unusual, but the Hex was the most notorious of them all for where all the real freaks and perverts hung out. Archie was a regular. Clifford had charmed everyone in the bar, even those who weren’t used to pups. He notified people when they dropped their keys, guarded the women’s bathroom on request from creepy guys, and one one occasion, tackled a man who had been pick-pocketing phones from patrons on a crowded Saturday night. Now he had his own bowl that Hex kept behind the counter, and the staff knew him by name.
Clifford was wagging up a storm when the sausage arrived in a bed of comped fries. Archie cut the sausage and gave it to his boy, smiling at him lovingly as he enjoyed dinner. Archie settled in with his lager and his wings and his friend came soon after. What a beautiful evening, he thought. If heaven existed, it would look a lot like Hex.
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Captions are fictional.
“Good morning, boy.”
“Good morning, Sir.”
“How were the waves this morning?”
“Excellent, but a little cold,” he answers, busying himself with making coffee.
“I’m glad you had fun, but what did I tell you to do about the sand off your feet and ankles when you come in the house?”
He gives me a sideways smile and rubs the back of his tanned neck. “To rinse off before I enter the house, Sir.”
“That’s right. So why don’t you?”
“Well, I’m the houseboy. I’m going to be cleaning it up anyway.”
“But do you think I want to walk on sand barefoot in my kitchen and track it into the house, into the carpeted areas? And scratch up my hardwood?”
“I didn’t….” he trails off when he sees my face. “No Sir.”
“You are in my employ. My instructions are not suggestions. I have my reasons.”
“Thank you for the correction, Sir.”
He pours a cup of coffee, adds milk, cream, and sugar, and serves me before tending to his own – straight black joe.
“Thank you.”
He nods.
I take a sip and set down my mug. “Now, put yours down and put your hands on the counter.”
My boy groans. I delight in it. Taming a half feral beach bum has tested my limits sometimes, but I do enjoy enforcing my boundaries. He obeys, because he does not want to end up locked in chastity long-term.
I pluck the spatula out of the utensil holder on the counter.
“20,” I announce.
Another groan. My cock hardens. The first six are gentle thwacks, teasing stings to warm up the chilled flesh. I stroke the skin, admiring how the color returns. Seven is a little harder, and he tenses. I play him this way for a few more swats, each spank the same as the one before it, but sting after sting is making him tender and squirmy. The legs begin to kick. The last five are hard swings that make him cry out and kick up his feet. “19…”
“Ah!”
“20.”
He hisses loudly. “Nnnngg!”
“Very good.” I kiss his back between his shoulder blades then put the paddle in the sink. I walk to the fridge, take out the aloe, and squirt some between my hands. I massage it into his hot flesh, and he whimpers and mews and shudders. “Oh my god Sir – it’s so cold!” he gasps.
“God you are delicious,” I reply, distracted, as I’m nibbling on his shoulder and licking the taste of sea water off hsi skin.
“Sir!” he cries, a high needy note, as I stroke his ass, and then his body shudders. I hear something drip, which is followed by a certain smell. I pull back. “Did you ejaculate?” I check the floor, which is covered in milky drips.
“I- I- ” he stammers.
I reach out and grasp his cock, which is softening. I pull back his foreskin. He gasps. It’s wet.
“Oh you did. That torment got you all horny did it?”
“I just got hard when you spanked me, and when you started rubbing my ass with the cold aloe, I just couldn’t control it!” my boy explained.
“That’s sexy as fuck,” I murmur. I reach above him in the cabinet for the coconut oil. I undo my pants, squirt some onto my cock, and take him against the counter. His cries fuel on my throbbing cock. His butt is still tender and every thrust makes him tense and whimper. The urge to fuck him becomes a violent thirst. I give him several hard thrusts and spill my morning load. “Oh FUCK,” I bellow, letting loose.
“Sir!”
I grab his waist and hold us close, his warm butt against my hips. The moment begins to dissipate. My coffee is getting cold. I slide out of him, and we both moan.
“God fucking damn,” I sigh. “What a wonderful morning.”
My boy doesn’t respond. His body is heaving. “God Sir, that was a rush being used and owned by you like that.”
I smile to myself. “That is the world I am trying to create for you.”
“I – I understand Sir.”
“Good. I was hoping to hear that. Well, let’s go take a shower. You have breakfast to make and a lot of cleaning to do.”
“Yes sir.”
I decided to wait until we were in my double shower to tell him he was going to spend the rest of the day in chastity for coming without permission.
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Captions are fictional.
“Hold on! Pose, I’m gonna get a picture!” I raise my DLSR and shoot off a couple frames.
“You got it babe? The sun’s in my eyes.”
“Perfect,” I say, looking at the screen.
“Shit this ice cream is totally melting in this heat.”
“Mmn. Let me get that for you.” I grab hold of his wrist, and lick the back of his hand and his fingers.
He groans. “Fuck that turns me on so bad.”
I grin, and lick up, stealing a bit of his ice cream and a bit of cone.”
“Hey,” he laughs. “You know what dairy does to your stomach.”
“I’ll suffer,” I reply. I release his wrist and cup his chin, blessing him with a sticky, sweet ice-cream kiss. He groans again and pushes back against me. Our tongues meet and dance. It suddenly feels 10 degrees hotter outside. I break apart to keep from burning up. “Fuck…”
He blinks at me, dazed. “Damn, man. You are one smoking hot kisser.”
I smile. “I save that gift for cute guys I like on dates that I have fun on.”
“Oh? Ohh….” he says, figuring it out. “You think I’m cute?”
“Amongst other adjectives. Your ice cream is melting though,” I say, pointing.
“Shit,” he mutters, catching the drips with his tongue. I watch, and adjust myself. I smile. I can’t remember having this much fun on the beach.
“Hey uh, after you finish with that…”
“Hm?” he asks, busy eating his treat.
“Do you want to find a vacant space on the beach and have a little public fuck under the towel?”
His eyes go wide. “In public?” your boyfriend gasps.
“Oh yeah,” I purr, adjusting myself again. “You under me, trapped between a blanket, the heat of our other blanket on top of us. Me rutting into your tight ass, you leaking pre-cum from your trapped cock.”
He swallows, hard, and chews on the ice cream cone while never taking his eyes off of you. “Fuck that is so naughty…”
“You’re getting hard,” I murmur, feeling him through his shorts.
“Fuck how could I not? You have such a sexy mouth.”
I smirk. “I bet you’ll smell real good, under me, so tight and hot for me…”
He groans again. “Stop, stop. Let me finish the cone first.”
I chuckle and smack him on the ass. “Alright. While you finish that, let’s go find ourselves a private spot.”
“Fuck yeah. Let’s go get naughty.”
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Captions are fictional.
One squeaky toy for two puppies inevitably leads to some conflicts… *Grrrrrrr*
Sir held his breath as the moment of tension lingered. Both boys were staring each-other down, neither moved. Then, the pup on the right pulled, and the other boy pulled right back, and suddenly they were rolling around the ground in a flurry of limbs and masks. Sir jumped back as not to get caught in the fray. “Calm down boys!” he said, but the pups were wrestling and not listening. The toy was much more important. It wasn’t until one crashed into the bookcase and a book fell on him did Sir put the two boys in time out so they could calm down.
Still, with only one of that toy, he had a feeling his afternoon wasn’t about to get much calmer. He had mistakenly assumed that pupsitting a friend’s boy would keep his own boy busy, and thus work would get done – but Sir was mistaken. He was stuck playing referee! Sir had to admit though, it was fun to watch them…but he just wished they’d get tuckered out and take their naps already!
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Captions are fictional.