Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Ricky rushed up to Micah and gave him a big hug as soon as he walked in. “Are you excited, Micah?” he asked, squeezing both his biceps as he held him out at arm’s length.
Micah could see that trying to fool Ricky wouldn’t be possible. The man was intelligent and he would be able to spot a lie a mile away. He grinned again. “Yes, very much. I’m so nervous though,” he blurted.
“Honey child, that is normal,” Mams said, coming up behind Ricky and reaching out to pull Micah into his arms. Micah allowed himself to relax against the huge drag queen’s chest as he hugged him back. After kissing the top of Micah’s head, Mams set him back. He was still grinning and his stunningly perfect white teeth practically glowed in his dark face. “Now, let’s get you into your pretty clothes and make you a star!”
Micah grinned. He understood why Ricky loved Mams so much. He was one of the nicest men he’d ever met and he had a heart of gold that was as big as the state of Texas. Micah grabbed his costume off the rack, biting his lower lip as he saw Greg’s barely-there Miley Cyrus costume hanging on the rack. It looked like the one she’d worn during her infamous MTV Video Awards appearance, a tiny flesh colored two piece and a large foam finger that she’d used to simulate sex with Alan Thicke while she twerked. Micah smiled, remembering the outrageous performance that had every soccer mom in America covering their little darling’s eyes. He felt a stone in the pit of his stomach as he wondered just where the hell Greg was. He’d dressed and was sitting down at the vanity putting on the last of his makeup with Mams fussing over his hair when Greg burst into the room. Ricky, Mams, and Micah all looked up from their spots in front of the long vanity in surprise. Micah’s heart sank further as he realized that Greg was not acting like himself at all
“Oh my, there you are,” Greg said loudly. He seemed to sway a bit on his feet and Micah rose from his seat as Mams stepped back from him with a comb in his hand. “Oh, Micah, love, can you help me? I know I don’t have to be on until last but I am running late,” he said, flopping down into a chair and leaning forward to frown at his reflection. “Oh dear! Look at these bags.”
Micah stood behind him and hesitantly lifted his hands, placing them on Greg’s shoulders to draw his gaze upward so that he could look him in the eye in the mirror. “Um, Greg. You are scheduled to go on second, after my opening set. I wasn’t certain you were even going to make it.” He leaned down and whispered into Greg’s ear, embarrassment flooding through him.
“Where in the hell have you been?”
Greg picked up a makeup sponge, ignoring Micah’s question, and began applying foundation over the sweat running down his face. Micah saw a melting disaster about to happen so he took the sponge away from Greg and crouched down, picked up cleanup wipes, and began taking off the makeup and sweat. Greg frowned at him in the mirror but closed his eyes and let Micah begin his makeup. Greg continued to sweat and it was then Micah noticed that his whole body had become clammy. Only three things, in Micah’s experience, caused sweating like that: exertion, illness, or drugs. Micah’s heart sank even lower. He’s back on that shit… Well, I’m not putting up with it this time. He can decide to get clean or not but either way, I’m not staying. He’s had his last warning with me so he’d just better damn well forget it.
Greg seemed to relax a bit and with a little work, Micah was able to get him made up as well as possible. The sweat was still leaking out of his pores but there wasn’t much Micah could do about it. He got Greg dressed with Mams's help and stood back checking him out as he preened in the mirror. The Miley outfit was very tight in the bottom and it had taken Micah several minutes to get Greg tucked up between his legs so the bulge in front wasn’t noticeable. Micah usually had great confidence in Greg. Generally he put on a great show and was well liked by the audience. Now, all Micah could do was hope.
Ricky walked over to them. He looked absolutely stunning in his tight Barbara Streisand costume from when she’d released her Superman album back in the seventies. The tight white T-shirt with the yellow, red, and black Superman logo on the front, tiny white shorts, white tube socks with red and yellow stripes, and white Keds looked adorable on the small performer. Ricky wore a bright-red wig that had curls bouncing down his shoulders. He smiled as he patted Micah on his shoulder.
“Sweetie, you’re on,” he said.
Micah looked over, looking dazzling in his Liza outfit. He blushed and wrung his hands, straightening and then turning to check his look in the full-length mirror in the playroom.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Kai heard Bob close the door behind him and before he could turn around, the man had wrapped his arms around Kai’s waist and brought his body back against his own. When Bob ground his thick cock up Kai’s ass crack, Kai whimpered.
Bob chuckled. “You want that inside you?”
Kai shuddered with lust, turned in Bob’s arms, and gazed down the few inches between them once again connecting with his hot gaze. “I’d have never guessed you were gay,” he said.
“Good. That’s what I want. It hasn’t been easy working side by side with you every fuckin’ day and waiting, watching, wondering whether it was safe to come out to you or not. I had to be sure and the last thing I wanted was to drive a wedge between us if it turned out that you weren’t.”
Kai reached up and framed Bob’s cheeks, taking his face into his hands. “I’m so glad that you finally told me.”
“Well, now you know, baby and I can’t wait to get you naked.”Bob leaned in and kissed Kai again, this time much more desperately as he began to back Kai up toward the bed. “I wanna fuck you,” Bob said as Kai fell backward. He watched as Bob yanked his jacket off, followed by his shirt and then as Kai began to undress, Bob squatted, undoing his sexy leather Doc Marten boots all the while watching Kai like a hawk. Kai knew that he had a nice body. A few inches taller than Bob, and much leaner, he still had cut muscles and abs. He worked out every single day, alternating between working muscle groups and power lifting. He wasn’t overly muscled, but what he had was well defined. As Bob shed his clothes, Kai was impressed with his gorgeous body as well. He did notice that Bob had some vicious looking scars on his chest, one bullet wound in his shoulder for a certainty and a couple others which had been quite obviously stitched.
“You’re so beautiful, Kai, Bob said, yanking his jeans off as he sat on the ground leaving him naked except for his black boxer briefs which were tented by his extraordinary dick. As soon as they were off, Bob was up on his knees, crawling toward Kai who sat back on the bed in only his own red and turquoise blue Andrew Christian jock strap. Bob grinned as he kneeled up in front of Kai, placing his hands on his knees. “I bet you’d have a hard time explaining that thing in the locker room down at the station,” Bob chuckled, indicating Kai’s jock with the soft touch of one hand.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
"Jesus Christ," Deuce moaned. "Colt, he has fuckin' nipple rings! Look at these tats!" Colt moved around the front of Slade's much larger body and stared at a solid wall of incredible ripped muscle.
Slade knew what Colt was seeing and he watched his face closely as Colt made his journey of discovery. Slade's entire pectoral area was covered with the most beautiful body art. On the right chest, a screaming eagle with a brightly waving American flag was emblazoned. The tattoo continued on over his shoulder and across the back of his neck as a line of bold red, white, and blue stars connected the tattoo over his other shoulder. On his left chest was tattooed an angry skull with yellow and orange flames shooting out of the back of its head. Another flag was emblazoned with the letters "USA" in the background. At the end of each pebbled nipple sat a barbell piercing with spiked ends. Without any hesitation Colt lowered his head, took one piercing between his teeth, and tugged. Slade gasped in pleasure and at the same time, he felt two large hands at the back of his knees. He looked past Colt's head to find Deuce kneeling at his feet. He heard another moan.
"Colt, look!" Slade felt Colt's mouth leave his wet nipple and watched as he sunk to the ground beside Deuce. Deuce was holding Slade's long cock in his hand and stroking it.
"What the fuck is that?" Colt asked. A single ball was visible at the end of Slade's cock. Underneath the thick head was another ball. It wasn't a horseshoe shaped Prince Albert piercing. It was something neither man had seen before. "It's called a Prince Albert Wand. It has a one-inch rod attached to the ball at the end of my cock that is threaded up inside me. It gives me a little sting when I fuck and it gives you a nice ride. Both partners are guaranteed a better screw." Slade chuckled wickedly.
"Fuck," both of the men said in unison. "That's so fuckin' hot, Slade," Colt added. A moment later Colt's mouth surrounded the head of Slade's cock and Slade lowered both hands to the blond head that he was so fond of. Slade slid as much of the thick cock into Colt's mouth as he could. He was a very large man and few could take him. He cared little, however; having Colt on his knees, submissive to him, was a fantasy come true. He absently registered the fact that Deuce had risen from the floor and moved away. A moment later Slade felt hands at his back and heard the familiar snick of the lube bottle. He wasn't surprised when he felt the thick fingers of the cowboy slide between his ass cheeks.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Anthony walked to the sideboard in the room and opened a drawer, pulling out several necessary items as Francois began to undress. Once Francois was naked, he stood once again at the side of the bed. Anthony stood behind him and covered his eyes with a silken blindfold, tying it securely at the back.
“Put your arms behind your back,” he ordered the young man. Francois complied and Anthony swiftly tied his wrists together with silken ties. Anthony moved around to the front of the naked young man. Putting his hands upon the man’s shoulders, he forced him to his knees. Francois was very compliant and Anthony loved his submissive posture. Francois remained silent as Anthony opened the fastenings of his britches, at mouth level with the small submissive. His cock poked out of the flap almost instantly, rampant and red, leaking precome down its length. He proceeded to brush the wet tip back and forth over Francois’ lips until the man sighed, obviously wanting to taste him but waiting until Anthony gave the go ahead. This pleased Anthony greatly.
“Lick it, just the head,” he growled. Francois’ slender tongue snaked out and touched the tip, working its way into the slit as Anthony held it steadily against the man’s mouth. Anthony heard him sigh as he licked a drop of precome out of the slit and tasted him. On the second pass, Anthony watched as Francois opened his lips just ever so slightly and began sliding them just partway over the tip, using his tongue to flick over and around Anthony’s tiny hole. Anthony shivered; the man certainly knew what he was doing. He reached down and curled his fingers into the man’s hair, exactly the way he’d done in his fantasy. He pulled Francois harder onto his cock, forcing just a little more in.
“Suck it now, boy. Suck it until I come and then swallow all of my seed.” The young man opened his lips wider and Anthony’s cock slipped inside. The captain was a large man, tall, muscled and lean but he never stripped to show his body to the submissive’s he used. It was completely unnecessary, just as kissing was unnecessary. He’d fallen into that trap once before and been burned badly. So Anthony played this way. He watched as his cock tunneled in and out of the boy’s mouth. Francois cock, though smaller than Anthony’s, was more than adequate and very hard. It bobbed between his legs, dripping precome. Francois obviously loved sucking cock. Good. Someone has trained him well. He will do well here.
“Suck harder, boy. I’m going to come,” Anthony growled. “There! Swallow, boy! Swallow!” Anthony’s cock throbbed and his climax shot out of him. He watched as the boy’s throat worked to swallow the thick load that he shot. He pulled the hairs on Francois head and the young man moaned. Anthony yanked him off his cock. “Enough.” He sat back on the bed and watched Francois’ lowered head as he fastened his own britches. Leaning forward, Anthony told him to bend his head foreword and the boy complied, bending all the way forward. Anthony swiftly removed the blindfold and wrist bindings. The boy didn’t look up.
“Now, stroke yourself but don’t come until I tell you.” Francois took his own cock in hand and began to stroke it slowly, his eyes downcast, sweat beading on his skin. The Captain could tell that the young man was struggling not to come. He must love being controlled as much as Anthony loved controlling. In a way, the Captain liked this part more than the act itself. The power over another, held much to be desired. He loved watching the way they obeyed, this endless string of submissive men that at every command, did just what he told them to. The boy moaned and Anthony knew he was close. The head of his cock was purple, his balls drawn up tight. Anthony finally relented.
“Come boy!” Anthony said ever so softly.
The boy instantly came, shooting an impressive arc of white onto the floor at the Captain’s feet. Anthony heard his gasp as a second load shot out of his cock as the boy slowed his stroking. Anthony reached over and ran his hands through Francois silky hair, stroking him. Francois arched into the caress like a satisfied kitten.
“Good boy,” Anthony praised. “Look at me.” Francois lifted his face and stared up at the man who was his client this evening. “You may speak,” Anthony said.
Francois gave a tentative smile. “Thank you, Master,” he whispered. His speech was heavily accented with French. The sound sent a shiver through Anthony.