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@boysfromtheburbs
It is once again time for us to come together as a community and welcome some new faces to the burbs: DILF edition. Let your voice be heard!!
Chris Evans
Jon Hamm
Oscar Isaac
Frank Grillo
Charlie Hunnam
Alan Ritchson
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Omari Hardwick
Diego Luna
Ricky Whittle
ISAAC COLE POWELL
Instagram Stories (04/04/2026)
The fact Michael's begging was accompanied with stutters and whine while the agreement was strong and steady seemed to empower the man with near inhuman stamina. Most of the time, his thralls were so drunk off his hypnotic musk they could barely say yes, but Michael was definitely different. His will and arousal was on another level, and Lance knew that he found another base to come back to in his travels. As the speed of his full-length thrusts increased, Lance grabbed Michael's hair to pull it back just so the man couldn't hide his face again.
"Keep making those sounds. I want everyone to be jealous of you becoming a proper slut," he said, licking down that jaw line down to the neck. Right when it met the shoulder, Lance bit down and sucked, wanting to leave physical reminders for Michael to have tomorrow. His other hand went down to spank a cheek when he was fully in, the force strong enough for his cock to feel. While he had gone faster, Lance hadn't gone full throttle yet, nor his full strength. Most didn't have the muscular body that Michael had, and Lance wanted to enjoy pounding it inch by inch into submission.
"Deal is done, baby. Your body is mine," he claimed as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. "These tits." he grabbed that strong chest and squeezed. "This ass." He spanked a cheek. "This junk," reached around and squeezed the hard cock and balls as if preventing it from cumming for just a while longer. "And finally this pussy. All mine," he grunted as he was at the edge. "Beg me for permission to cum, like a good little slut. Each statement further cemented Lance's hold on Michael, as if it were being written into Michael's subconscious the more he agreed with it. The idea of controlling the large hunk's body even without the musk was new and exciting. All of his previous thralls forgot either through a command or straight denial. Michael wouldn't be able to after tonight.
"Oh fuck!" he exclaimed before cumming, moaning loud in the room once Michael begged enough. However, he had forgotten to give permission to cum, so Lance filled the hungry CEO up with load after load pumping out of his cock. Lance felt the high before realizing he was pressing his forehead against the back of Michael's head, panting hard into the other's neck. "Good job, baby. Let me know when you're ready to go again," he panted between kisses to Michael's back and shoulders. His cock did soften a bit while inside the man, but after a few seconds, Lance could feel himself getting hard once more, as if it was his first time tonight again.
Michael's head was yanked back by the force of Lance's fingers and the sounds of his pleasure mixed with violent slaps of skin bucking against skin filled the room. Even his moans were shaky with virility with which the other man went to town on his ass. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. To be used so thoroughly, just a plaything for Lance's pleasure, was somehow getting him off more than any other encounter he'd ever had before. "Y-Yes, s-sir...!" Michael groaned, eyes rolling up and backwards into his head before yelping at the sharp sting of teeth on his flesh. The man was properly branding him, leaving reminders of their time together. There would be no place on or in his body that he wouldn't remember Lance.
"A-All yours, every b-bit of me! Yours!" Michael cried out, not even once bothering to worry what inhabitants of neighboring rooms might have been hearing. But, he was being pounded so expertly, he almost felt himself jealous that he didn't get to hear them as an outside, third party. A whimper escaped him when he felt the Lance's strength grip around his wanting cock, desperate for any kind of attention. With a nod, he craned his eyes up towards the man railing him. "P-Please let me cum. B-Been needing the release...so f-fucking badly." Michael plead, desperation and carnal lust coating the request, just as Lance demanded of him.
The force of Lance's loads filling him up almost propelled him flatly back onto his stomach. After a certain point, he was almost positive he could feel it oozing out of him already, warmth slowly creeping down the inner part of his thighs. The breath felt like it had been swiped from his lungs. His pecs heaved with effort as he attempted to regain it. "Already?!" Michael asked, incredulous. There was no way. Lance had to be from some other planet if he was rearing up and ready to go. Surely enough, he could feel the man's cock firming up again. A deep flush spread through Michael's body. "Fuck...you're a beast."
"I'm happy, I'm happy." Leiv grumbled at Eli's playful threat, resigned to take the bartender's bait. The guy's laugh made him grin again, though. But maybe again wasn't the right word to use since Leiv's original grin had never left his face in the first place. Not that Eli would ever catch him admitting that. It wasn't often that the hockey pro let himself get this smitten for a guy. Being so obvious about it wasn't his normal approach either. His usual strategy was just to yearn and internalize until he could rail the fuck out of some one-time guy he didn't care about. Which was healthy, right? The blond's grin did finally falter a little when he heard his own name roll off Eli's tongue-- not for any bad reason, it just kind of turned him on to hear it. And when Eli leaned in, Leiv leaned in too, taking the makeshift ice pack off his eye to show how serious he was. And by the way-- the area around his eye was already an angry red. He'd definitely have a shiner tomorrow. "I'm not gonna beg." He started, baby blues twinkling in the low light of the bar. "But I want you there, Eli. Can you do that for me?" And Liev didn't care if anybody else was around. As far as he cared, they were the only two in the whole entire bar.
"Good. I don't wanna see any sour-puss mugging if I come out to support you, alright?" Eli teased, gently tapping his fingers on the countertop. "I like that smile too much. So, that's what I wanna see. And maybe some body-checking wouldn't hurt either. Gotta see if you hockey players are really as rough and tough as they say." He finished, like it was some kind of non-negotiable. If they were already creeping into the sphere of flirting, then Eli wasn't going to be coy about it.
To the average bar-goer, seeing the two men on either side of the counter so close to one another might've been a sight to gawk at, but plenty stranger had happened, on the same night, no less. So, Eli tuned it all out. He assessed Leiv with the watchful of someone admiring a piece of art they couldn't understand. How, he could feel butterflies he'd had thrown out of his bar less than an hour ago was beyond even his comprehension.
"Hmm," Eli hummed in thought at first, raising his fingers to gently trace the outline of bruising around Leiv's eye, barely having the pads connect with his skin. "I'll be there." His words, barely above a whisper. "But just because you asked me so nicely."
The voice that responded back sounded pretty youthful-- or more youthful than Jamie had been expecting for a man sitting down on his back deck. Something about the way the guy said man seemed very millennial, but in an endearing way. And good for this millennial guy, being able to afford a lake house and everything! Jamie ducked his head self-consciously at the older man's observation. He didn't think the man meant to come off in any sort of passive aggressive way, but the frat boy feels bad for him anyway. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. We, uh..." When he lifted his head back up, the neighbor would surely be able to see his bashful grin even from however many yards away. Jamie was well-known for his thousand-watt smile. "It's our frat's annual, like, weekend getaway or whatever. So if you see any dudes skinny-dipping over the next couple of days, that's why."
It only occurred to Jamie then that this millennial man could have a family in that nice house of his-- in which case the guys should probably keep their swim trunks on, right? "You all alone over there?" He heard himself asking, ever the bastion of Midwestern hospitality. "Want some company?" And he'd blame that on his recently-realized bisexuality. And the four or six beers he'd crushed since they'd arrived there that afternoon.
Chris held a hand up to stop the embarrassment he could practically hear from across the divide. "No need to go explaining yourself to me, man. Big house on the lake? Lots of your friends and some beer? I'd be more mad if you guys weren't raging over there." He chuckled. It was certainly the kind of thing he would've wanted to be doing at the other man's age. Hell, he probably did. "Besides, I've seen a lot worse things out here than some naked college guys. Could be a nice change of pace from all the peace and quiet. Gets kind of boring sometimes, you know?" Chris teased, winking, regardless of if he could even see from across the way.
The question had caught him slightly off-guard. If nothing else, because why on Earth would a college kid, living it up away from school, waste his time with a guy like him? The whole thing stunned him into silence. "I am." He admitted tentatively, not sure what the implication would give off; was it cool, embarrassing, sad to be living alone in a big house that he built? "I'll never turn down a nice chat that isn't yards away." Chris joked with his best attempt at a nonchalant shrug. "If you can find your way over here in the dark, you're free to."
With that, he quickly turned on his heels and the cavalier attitude quickly melted. He made quick work of fixing up some of the mess that was lying around his porch. The last thing he needed was making a bad first impression on a guy he'd probably never see after that night. When he heard the creaking of board behind him, Chris turned back around to find the man he vaguely recognized. "Wow. Fast work for a guy I'm sure is at the very least a little tipsy. Welcome."
OSCAR ISAAC Scenes from a Marriage 1.04 "The Illiterates"
*seeing your boner after waking up*
Wow, breakfast in bed??
It is once again time for us to come together as a community and welcome some new faces to the burbs: DILF edition. Let your voice be heard!!
Chris Evans
Jon Hamm
Oscar Isaac
Frank Grillo
Charlie Hunnam
Alan Ritchson
Dylan Bruce
Shemar Moore
Omari Hardwick
Diego Luna
Ricky Whittle
As I approach the time for adding new muses, I always come to roadblock of what position they’re gonna be. And I always try to be unique and have a smattering of options, but at the end of day, most of these guys in my head? They’re verse for no other reason than I’m greedy and like having more options lmao. Categorizing them just makes it easier to describe their “vibe” and what they’ll usually go for. But, for the record, if you really wanna bend one of my tops over or back it up on one of my bottoms? I’ll probably be game for it ha. My men are both pole and hole!
jonathan bailey
It is once again time for us to come together as a community and welcome some new faces to the burbs: DILF edition. Let your voice be heard!!
Chris Evans
Jon Hamm
Oscar Isaac
Frank Grillo
Charlie Hunnam
Alan Ritchson
Dylan Bruce
Shemar Moore
Omari Hardwick
Diego Luna
Ricky Whittle
Urijit moaned once more when the heel pressed further into that spot. The motion and pressure seemed to force the knot of tension to unravel, and in a few moments more, it was practically gone! Urijit's body relaxed once more. "Yeeeaaaaah," he answered. He had been so stressed lately that all of his arousal and lustful thoughts had practically been suppressed and buried. With each knot undone, it was coming back down to his cock, though the man hadn't realized it since he was laying on top of it.
"There's another one on my chest I think." He remembered how yesterday it strained a bit when he stretched it wrong while holding a heavy item. It hadn't gone away that morning either, so he might as well get Lucas to fix that before it became a problem. "I'm ready to go after that one if you don't mind helping me turn over," he said. He wasn't so relaxed he couldn't move, but he might find himself on the ground if he didn't have Lance to help. Urijit wouldn't notice either how hard he was either.
"That's it," Lucas cooed, lips blowing cool air onto Urijit's back as his hands did the work of breaking down the man's tightness, muscle by muscle. "Let it all out." He instructed, understanding that it was a lot to ask grown men to fully allow themselves to feel comfortable making the most suggestive noises, even when there was no one around to judge them, least of all Lucas. But, that was part of it, the release of tension not only in the body, but in the mind as well. He was just grateful he didn't need to convince of client of that given how vocal he was.
"Don't mind in the slightest, my man. What I'm here for." Lucas's tone was all light and chipper, ever the beacon of helpfulness. Tucking one oiled up hand beneath one shoulder and the other resting on top of the other, the masseur leaned down. "I'm gonna pull you up towards me on the count of three, alright? One, two..." The final count lay quiet and unspoken before Lucas was pulling up and laying the man down on his back with ease. "Feel better? Now, let's find that spo-" Before he could get hands back down on Urijit, the insanely obvious tenting in his pants caught Lucas's eye. "Do you...wanna take care of that?" He asked carefully. "Or should I?"
the stinging reprimand of being called a full-blown pervert barely registers against the roaring heat in milo's veins. if anything, the label feels like a twisted crown, an acknowledgment of the relentless, quiet desperation that had driven him to this very floor. hearing michael validate the ninety days of stolen glances doesn't make him pull back in shame ; it only anchors him deeper into the reality of the moment. the soft chuckle vibrating from the older man's chest feels like a green light, a physical permission slip to discard every remaining boundary between them. for months, milo had been a ghost outside the glass, suffocating on his own restraint while watching michael glide through the crystal water of the pool. now, the sheer proximity is overwhelming, the scent of chlorine and raw, sun-baked skin acting as an intoxicating drug that completely obliterates any lingering sense of propriety.
when michael's large fingers tangle into the dark locks at the back of his head, milo lets out a fractured sigh against the smooth skin of michael's thigh. the heavy grip isn't a deterrent ; it's an anchor, holding him fast against the solid, unyielding frame he has craved for what feels like a lifetime. the demand to commit this to memory, to carry the weight and taste of them back to his lonely bedroom, causes a sharp, primal thrill to ripple straight down milo's spine. his eyes, dark and wide with an almost feral intensity, look upward, tracking the sharp line of michael's jaw and the subtle, triumphant smirk playing on their lips. there is no room for hesitation, no space for the polite neighbor who had knocked on the front door under the laughable pretense of borrowing sugar. that version of him died the moment the towel hit the floor.
as michael's hips shift, driving the thick, leaking length deeper into his mouth, milo's hands tighten their grip on the dense muscles of michael's thighs. the sudden, unprompted invasion pushes past his lips, stretching the tight corners of his mouth and sending a jolt of pure, unadulterated heat straight to his core. the thickness of them is staggering, far more immense and imposing than any distant fantasy framed by a second-story window screen could have ever prepared him for. milo swallows hard around the intrusion, his throat tightening instinctively against the heavy intrusion, but he refuses to back down. instead, he leans into the stretch, his eyes watering slightly from the sheer depth as he forces himself to take the weight of michael's ego and desire entirely into his body.
the praise, even wrapped in a gravelly, demanding rasp, only fuels the fire consuming him. milo uses the leverage against michael's legs to pull himself even closer, eliminating the last fraction of space until his nose is pressed against the coarse hair of michael's groin. he lets his tongue swirl lazily around the ridge, lapping up the salty tang of sweat and pre-cum, eager to prove just how insatiable he truly is. every instinct is screaming at him to consume, to lose himself entirely in the heavy, rhythmic friction. he wants michael to know the full extent of the damage those ninety days had caused, to feel the absolute devotion of a man who had starved himself just to feast at this exact altar. with a muffled, needy sound catching in the back of his throat, milo relaxes his jaw, deliberately widening his stance on the hard entryway floor, and deliberately draws michael back in, determined to swallow every single inch of the obsession he had finally made real. ❛ mhm— you're so big. ❜
There was something that should've bothered Michael deeply about the gross breach of privacy. For months, he'd been unknowingly putting himself on display for a man who he'd barely known the name of. And he'd been getting off to it. It should have enraged him. And it did, to a certain extent. Only, instead of connecting his fist with Milo's skull, he was taking his frustrations out on the younger man's throat. If he wanted him so badly, craved him with a want to depraved, that he'd peep on him for so long, then he was going to get exactly what he wanted. But, Michael was going to give it to him his way. The second Milo sauntered over his doorstep, he'd given up any power or leverage in their dynamic. And somehow, Michael had an inkling that Milo preferred it that way. But, if nothing else, Michael had to give the man his dues: he had some balls on him.
Hearing the strain come from Milo gargles, how his throat struggled to wrap around his girth brought something of a smirk to his lips. He didn't go buck-wild into the man's mouth just yet; the slow torturous push to see just how much of himself he could fit past Milo's pouted lips and down his throat was intoxicating. The sensation yanked up a full-bellied groan from the deepest part of the man's gut. "Fuck," He breathed, allowing his eyes to roll back in his head for just a moment, giving himself over to the pleasure completely, momentarily. "All that talk and such a tight throat. Funny, huh?" Michael teased, his voice like gravel as he peered down at his plaything. He gave a slight tug at the mess of dark hair in his fist, an indication that he wanted some kind of answer to his question, be it a gargle, a choke, whatever the younger man could muster.
Michael didn't even need to push much further. The eager little cocksucker beneath him had taken the mantle and done the work for him. The closest thing he could muster in that moment to an impressed smile melted across his features. "God, you're fucking hungry for it." It wasn't a question, it was an assertion. There was no way anyone would swallow every inch of him so quickly if it weren't the case. His other free hand came down to strongly pat the side of Milo's face, practically encasing the entirety of it in his palm. "That's a good fucking boy. You like that, huh?" Michael asked, eyes lit up with intent again, expecting something of a response, even if unintelligible. The mumbled words barely hit his ear around inches of thick meat, but Michael caught them all the same. A chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Trying to flatter me? You're already choking on it, no need to butter me up."
With a heavy pull, Michael gently yanked Milo back from the brink until his parted mouth was popped right off the head of his cock and his bleary, tear-filled eyes were staring right up at him. A thumb swiped the tears away and ran down to swim across Milo's pouted bottom lip. He almost looked angelic, in a way. Leaning down ever so slightly, he lowered his too, in kind. "I'm going to fuck your throat now." Again, no question, no hesitancy in his voice whatsoever. "You want me so bad," Michael mumbled, lining his head up perfectly against Milo's lips. "Have me, then." With a final grunt, he pushed himself back in, all the way, every inch packing itself tightly downwards into the warmth and wetness of Milo. "That's it, take it." He instructed as his hips snapped up into a steady pace.
"Well, I do read defenses for a living, so that technically makes me a mind reader." As Lucas's fingers wrapped around him and squeezed through his shorts, the sensation sent a wave of arousal straight down to his cock, causing a soft groan to leave his lips. Then, as the masseur leaned down with his lips just barely grazing against his own, Cameron didn't hesitate and yanked firmly on Lucas's wrist, pulling him down, and surged up to meet those lips in a kiss that was sudden and bruising, driven by the months of built-up tension he'd been carrying. His grip on Lucas's wrist never faltered, either, even as their mouths locked, hungry and insistent. His free hand (the one that had been guiding the other's) followed blindly when Lucas slipped it beneath the waistband of his shorts. And with another groan, Cameron finally gave himself over to the sensation, his fingers tightened around the man's wrist as a way to show how much he was enjoying the torture already. "Fuck," he gasped into the kiss, only to break apart for a moment to let out another groan in satisfaction.
Lucas's lips parted in a groan the travelled out of his mouth, into Cameron's the moment the final line of tension broke and they met in a kiss that already felt long overdue. Sure, the session was barely a third of the way through, but Lucas knew an overworked man who wasn't having his needs met when he saw one. And whatever girl he had back home? She wasn't cutting it. Cameron held onto him like a lifeline, like he was the only thing keeping him anchored in that moment, desperate to stay and feel something. "You sound like you needed this," Lucas mumbled against Cameron's lips, giving a satisfying tug to the girth in his grip, swiping a thumb over the slit, already slick with pre. "Feels like it too." He teased with a low chuckle. Lucas back onto Cameron's mouth, letting his tongue part his lips with ease, savoring the taste of him on his tongue. "Clothes off." Lucas murmured every few seconds when he needed to come back up for air. "Need to see you properly." The time for being coy and patient and above addressing his carnal needs or the dick tenting his own shorts was long behind them.
