AnasAbdin

if i look back, i am lost
todays bird

Origami Around
Acquired Stardust

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
dirt enthusiast

Discoholic 🪩
art blog(derogatory)

shark vs the universe

★
tumblr dot com
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
d e v o n
Show & Tell
No title available
DEAR READER

pixel skylines
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
No title available
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Canada

seen from Malaysia
seen from Austria
seen from Spain

seen from Malaysia

seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from France

seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
@ethanlingerfelt
MAX & ASHER: CAÑO ISLAND
Mark Twain said, “I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.” Although Max and Asher had been friends for years and were now business partners, Max wondered how well they would get along during a two-week vacation abroad.
Any trepidation Max felt faded almost immediately. From the start, he and Asher clicked. Max was more buttoned-down, while Asher was lighthearted and easygoing, but their differences complemented each other well. Before long, Max found himself unconsciously adopting some of Asher’s more positive traits.
For first-time travelers, practical questions quickly come into focus.
Does the other person pick up after himself?
Does he make his bed?
Who takes responsibility for ordering the daily coffee?
How well do their personal hygiene habits align?
Who is better at coordinating with the many sightseeing agencies?
Max had no reason to worry. Asher, Executive Chef, proved to be every bit as detail oriented as Max, General Manager.
The day promised to be a highlight of the trip. Asher had booked a snorkeling excursion to Caño Island Biological Reserve, widely regarded as one of Costa Rica’s premier snorkeling destinations. About 1½ hours by boat from Uvita, the island is ringed by five platforms of pristine coral reef, with visibility that often reaches 50 to 80 feet.
They were up early, eager to get the day started.
“Are all your ducks in a row, Ash?”
“You know it, Max. I don’t do anything half-ass.
“Let’s get breakfast. I asked the hosts to make it early, so we can get to the boat on time.”
“Lead on, Ash.”
“Is that a sneaky way of saying you want to see my firm ass cheeks bouncing around in these shorts?” Asher asked, laughing.
“You’re on to me,” Max answered.
Breakfast turned out to be a centerpiece of the trip. This morning, it was Tamal Asado: A dense, sweet cornmeal cake baked with cheese, sour cream, and spices, served with empanadas, stuffed pastries filled with seasoned ground beef, sourced from a local, family-run bakery.
Asher asked the hosts for a container for the leftover empanadas. They would come in handy on the 90-minute boat ride.
The morning ritual was next.
As they walked to the restroom, Max decided to open a line of questioning he’d been mulling for days.
“I have a freaky side, too, if you’re up for some exploration.”
“Hey Ash. The other day you mentioned having a freaky side. You mind telling me about that, if you’re OK with it?”
“Yeah, no problem, Max. Let’s talk in a minute when we’re on the toilets. Where am I today?”
“You’re in back, facing me.”
They entered the room, taking their places.
“Ash, take off your shorts and underwear. I’ll do the same.”
“OK, Max. You’re the boss in here.”
Asher farted loudly as soon as he sat down. “I was holding that in for you, Max. I know you like my farts. I’ll poop in a minute.”
“I do like hearing farts. It’s cool that you’re going along with my fetish. I don’t know if you’re into it, or humoring me, but I appreciate the effort.”
“I’m liking this new side of you, Max. You’re chill. It is kinda hot to be intimate with you. Besides, your butt is no slouch. It’s almost as hot as mine.” They both laughed.
“Where my ass is a bubble, yours is bigger overall. I won’t lie and say I don’t look at other guys’ asses. Your impressive muscle butt is up there. Them cheeks be big and heavy, dude.
“I did sneak a peek that first morning when you stood up to wipe. You got a hairy crack, man.”
“Thanks, Ash, I think.
“I got rid of my farts on the walk up here. I’m ready to shit.”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” Asher answered.
Max adjusted his butt as Asher watched. Max spent more time in the gym, his hard body being the proof. He fueled it constantly to maintain his physique.
After a popcorn fart, he unloaded. A strong stream of shit flowed from his hole, crackling and splashing into the bowl. Asher was silent.
“I’m ready to go now, Max. I didn’t want to step on your performance. It sounded damned intense.”
“Go ahead, Ash. My focus is on you.
“I am glad we’re the only guests here. It is the slow season.”
Asher pushed. He felt heavy. It took some effort to expand his asshole. After exertion, a large mass of poop hit the bowl with such force that it caused a mini-tsunami, splashing his butt.
“Round two on the way, Asher said.” Max stayed quiet.
Seconds later, Asher ejected a chunky piece of shit. It was loud.
Max broke his silence. “I think that’s your best one yet, Ash. As long as we’re sharing, I have to admit you woke up by big dick.” He placed his right index finger on his sticky dick slit. “Yup, there’s precum.”
Max, no longer bashful about showing his penis, was manspreading. His package was on display when Asher looked in his direction. They were little more than three feet apart.
Asher replied, “I see that, Max. I can only imagine what that thing looks like fully erect.”
Max let the comment slide, for now.
Max added, “Please don’t wipe or flush yet. I like talking to you while we’re pooping. Maybe this is a good time to broach the subject we talked about.”
Asher answered, “I am comfortable playing along with your "thing." Here we are, having casual conversation, shit floating below our dirty assholes. It’s relaxing. This part is personal, but I do like to please the other person, make them feel good.
“I have put some thought into the ‘freaky’ comment. Here’s my plan. Tell me what you think.”
“Go on,” Max replied.
“There’s no reason to shower now, because in a few hours we’ll be snorkeling in the Pacific. We can shower when we get back. I’ll tell you then. I hope you’ll indulge me, Max.”
“It can’t be more niche than poop and pooping. You got me excited now, Ash. I’m looking forward to the big reveal.”
Max asked, “How are we on time, Ash?”
“We’re good, but we better get to wiping. I want to make it to the boat with time to spare.”
Asher delayed wiping so he could watch Max’s stand-up routine. He thought it odd but surprisingly erotic. Asher knew men wiped in different ways. Some stood to wipe, as Max did. Others wiped in front, between the legs. Most wiped in back, the way he did.
Asher traveled abroad several times to hone his culinary skills. He completed a chef apprenticeship in Paris, known as apprentissage or alternance. In Europe, he discovered the bidet—a fixture that changed his life. During his year in France, every home he visited had a toilet and bidet. Upon returning to America, one of his first purchases was a bidet attachment for his toilet. He splurged for an electric version that dispensed warm water up the bum. There were advantages to using a bidet. No matter how messy he was down there, the warm water cleansed his hole quickly and thoroughly. A dab with a few squares of toilet paper finished the job.
No pulling five or six lengths of toilet paper. No chafing. His hole was pampered, then healed. A roll of toilet paper now lasted weeks, not days. He saved money! He hated using public restrooms. Once, when forced to do so, he wiped so much that the cheap, rough paper actually injured his asshole. A bidet was a necessity, not a luxury. He installed add-on bidets in all four bathrooms of his Austin home. There was one in his office at the restaurant.
Max stood up, facing Asher. “You want to see my poop? Come over and take a look.” Max was pushing it.
Asher fluffed his dick, then stood beside Max as they judged each bowl.
“I think that second wave put you over the top, Ash. It’s a close call.”
“You’re the expert. I’m learning the ropes from the big dog,” Asher said.
Max started wiping, running the toilet paper up his messy crack as he stood next to Asher.
“I’m digging your hairy ass crack Max, and so are you,” Asher joked.
“I’m finished. You ready to wipe, Ash? Can I stand close to you, to get a good look?”
“Sure, Max. I’m guessing you want to see the used toilet paper.”
“You read my mind.”
Asher kept his eyes and ears open in case anyone approached. He didn’t want to get caught showing dirty toilet paper to another man.
“Hey Max, take this toilet paper to the sink and wet it for me, will you please?”
Asher did his homework. He booked a top-rated snorkeling operator. Two snorkeling sessions were included, with a break between sessions. Lunch was served before the return boat ride. Asher planned to tip the guide ₡10,000, around $20. The excursion lasted eight hours.
They had a great time. Everyone involved—from the staff in the Uvita office to the bus driver and guide—was professional, attentive, and caring. It was the highlight of their trip so far, well worth the price.
On the boat ride back from Caño Island to Uvita, Asher suggested making the evening part of the adventure.
“Since we’re almost there, how about dinner in Uvita?” he asked. “I found a place that looks promising—Fernando’s Restaurant. I’m in the mood to unwind, enjoy a good meal, and have cocktails. What do you think?”
“I’m in,” Max said. “I’m pretty worn out after all that swimming, but it was the experience of a lifetime.”
The food and service were good, but oh, those drinks.
Guaro Sour
The Guaro Sour is a classic Costa Rican cocktail made with guaro, a clear, slightly sweet spirit distilled from sugar cane. It is shaken with fresh lime juice and simple syrup, then topped with club soda and served over ice.
Coco Loco
Coco Loco is another local favorite, served in a fresh green coconut opened with a machete. Rich and deceptively strong, it combines coconut water, coconut cream, guaro, white rum, and sometimes a splash of tequila, finished with lime to balance the sweetness.
After two hours, “a few cocktails” had clearly become much more than that. Asher was relieved that Max was a happy drunk; he had never seen him so lively.
Asher felt the drinks too, but it was time to leave.
“Let’s settle the bill and head back. I’d like to get to the cabin before dark. I’m hot and sweaty, and a warm shower and a comfortable bed sound perfect.”
Max was quiet during the taxi ride. He was plastered. For Asher, who still had his wits about him, it was a quandary. He was protective of Max, but he knew his guard was down. He was vulnerable, perhaps manipulable. Thus, the dilemma. Would the hijinks he planned be seen as taking advantage of Max? He thought not.
They washed each other’s assholes the first time they showered together. That’s mutual trust.
“Let’s get a shower now, Max, before we settle down. You OK?”
“Yeah, Ash. I’m fine. It’s been a while since I drank that much. Coco Locos are lethal.”
They gathered their things and made their way toward the restroom. The rain had passed, leaving the air cool and clean. A soft breeze moved through the trees. Evening was beginning to settle over the compound, the last light of day turning everything warm and gold.
As they stripped, Max said, “I need to piss.”
“Don’t go just yet. That’s part of the ‘reveal.’”
Max blinked in surprise.
Facing each other under the warm water, Asher said, “Max, aim that big dick of yours at my stomach and start pissing. Don’t be shy.”
Max’s reaction was surprisingly positive. “I’ve learned a lot about you on this trip.”
He pointed his penis at Asher’s navel, releasing a strong stream of urine. Asher’s eyes were closed. He was excited.
“What’s it like, Ash?”
“The sensation of the warm piss on my body is fascinating. An old girlfriend introduced me to water sports. We did it in the shower. Thanks, Max, for being open-minded.”
“We’re a pair, Ash. The Dynamic Duo of Poop and Piss!”
“Let’s get soaped up. Holler when you want me to do your back, Max.”
“Ready.”
Asher started on Max’s broad shoulders, circling the washcloth down to his meaty ass mounds. He lathered his hands, then entered the deep crack. His right middle finger cleansed, then gently penetrated Max’s asshole.
Max’s reaction was predictable. He got a hard-on.
“Wow, Max. I don’t have to imagine anymore.”
Max said, “Do me a solid. Give me a quick hand job.”
Without comment, Asher stood behind him, wrapped his hand around the rock-hard dick, and began pumping. He saw the appeal of a big dick. His penis, now awake, swayed back and forth and between Max’s substantial ass cheeks, in a grinding motion.
When Max’s legs stiffened, Asher knew he was about to blow. Which he did. Big. Multiple thick ropes of jizz spurted from Max’s penis on the concrete floor, feet away. Max closed his eyes and tilted his head back, enjoying the rush that comes with a satisfying orgasm.
“Damn, Ash, that was great. I don’t see how you can top that.”
“You know I’ll always have your back, Max.”
(AI used for pictures only. All writing is my own.)
MAX & ASHER: CAÑO ISLAND
Mark Twain said, “I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.” Although Max and Asher had been friends for years and were now business partners, Max wondered how well they would get along during a two-week vacation abroad.
Any trepidation Max felt faded almost immediately. From the start, he and Asher clicked. Max was more buttoned-down, while Asher was lighthearted and easygoing, but their differences complemented each other well. Before long, Max found himself unconsciously adopting some of Asher’s more positive traits.
For first-time travelers, practical questions quickly come into focus.
Does the other person pick up after himself?
Does he make his bed?
Who takes responsibility for ordering the daily coffee?
How well do their personal hygiene habits align?
Who is better at coordinating with the many sightseeing agencies?
Max had no reason to worry. Asher, Executive Chef, proved to be every bit as detail oriented as Max, General Manager.
The day promised to be a highlight of the trip. Asher had booked a snorkeling excursion to Caño Island Biological Reserve, widely regarded as one of Costa Rica’s premier snorkeling destinations. About 1½ hours by boat from Uvita, the island is ringed by five platforms of pristine coral reef, with visibility that often reaches 50 to 80 feet.
They were up early, eager to get the day started.
“Are all your ducks in a row, Ash?”
“You know it, Max. I don’t do anything half-ass.
“Let’s get breakfast. I asked the hosts to make it early, so we can get to the boat on time.”
“Lead on, Ash.”
“Is that a sneaky way of saying you want to see my firm ass cheeks bouncing around in these shorts?” Asher asked, laughing.
“You’re on to me,” Max answered.
Breakfast turned out to be a centerpiece of the trip. This morning, it was Tamal Asado: A dense, sweet cornmeal cake baked with cheese, sour cream, and spices, served with empanadas, stuffed pastries filled with seasoned ground beef, sourced from a local, family-run bakery.
Asher asked the hosts for a container for the leftover empanadas. They would come in handy on the 90-minute boat ride.
The morning ritual was next.
As they walked to the restroom, Max decided to open a line of questioning he’d been mulling for days.
“I have a freaky side, too, if you’re up for some exploration.”
“Hey Ash. The other day you mentioned having a freaky side. You mind telling me about that, if you’re OK with it?”
“Yeah, no problem, Max. Let’s talk in a minute when we’re on the toilets. Where am I today?”
“You’re in back, facing me.”
They entered the room, taking their places.
“Ash, take off your shorts and underwear. I’ll do the same.”
“OK, Max. You’re the boss in here.”
Asher farted loudly as soon as he sat down. “I was holding that in for you, Max. I know you like my farts. I’ll poop in a minute.”
“I do like hearing farts. It’s cool that you’re going along with my fetish. I don’t know if you’re into it, or humoring me, but I appreciate the effort.”
“I’m liking this new side of you, Max. You’re chill. It is kinda hot to be intimate with you. Besides, your butt is no slouch. It’s almost as hot as mine.” They both laughed.
“Where my ass is a bubble, yours is bigger overall. I won’t lie and say I don’t look at other guys’ asses. Your impressive muscle butt is up there. Them cheeks be big and heavy, dude.
“I did sneak a peek that first morning when you stood up to wipe. You got a hairy crack, man.”
“Thanks, Ash, I think.
“I got rid of my farts on the walk up here. I’m ready to shit.”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” Asher answered.
Max adjusted his butt as Asher watched. Max spent more time in the gym, his hard body being the proof. He fueled it constantly to maintain his physique.
After a popcorn fart, he unloaded. A strong stream of shit flowed from his hole, crackling and splashing into the bowl. Asher was silent.
“I’m ready to go now, Max. I didn’t want to step on your performance. It sounded damned intense.”
“Go ahead, Ash. My focus is on you.
“I am glad we’re the only guests here. It is the slow season.”
Asher pushed. He felt heavy. It took some effort to expand his asshole. After exertion, a large mass of poop hit the bowl with such force that it caused a mini-tsunami, splashing his butt.
“Round two on the way, Asher said.” Max stayed quiet.
Seconds later, Asher ejected a chunky piece of shit. It was loud.
Max broke his silence. “I think that’s your best one yet, Ash. As long as we’re sharing, I have to admit you woke up by big dick.” He placed his right index finger on his sticky dick slit. “Yup, there’s precum.”
Max, no longer bashful about showing his penis, was manspreading. His package was on display when Asher looked in his direction. They were little more than three feet apart.
Asher replied, “I see that, Max. I can only imagine what that thing looks like fully erect.”
Max let the comment slide, for now.
Max added, “Please don’t wipe or flush yet. I like talking to you while we’re pooping. Maybe this is a good time to broach the subject we talked about.”
Asher answered, “I am comfortable playing along with your "thing." Here we are, having casual conversation, shit floating below our dirty assholes. It’s relaxing. This part is personal, but I do like to please the other person, make them feel good.
“I have put some thought into the ‘freaky’ comment. Here’s my plan. Tell me what you think.”
“Go on,” Max replied.
“There’s no reason to shower now, because in a few hours we’ll be snorkeling in the Pacific. We can shower when we get back. I’ll tell you then. I hope you’ll indulge me, Max.”
“It can’t be more niche than poop and pooping. You got me excited now, Ash. I’m looking forward to the big reveal.”
Max asked, “How are we on time, Ash?”
“We’re good, but we better get to wiping. I want to make it to the boat with time to spare.”
Asher delayed wiping so he could watch Max’s stand-up routine. He thought it odd but surprisingly erotic. Asher knew men wiped in different ways. Some stood to wipe, as Max did. Others wiped in front, between the legs. Most wiped in back, the way he did.
Asher traveled abroad several times to hone his culinary skills. He completed a chef apprenticeship in Paris, known as apprentissage or alternance. In Europe, he discovered the bidet—a fixture that changed his life. During his year in France, every home he visited had a toilet and bidet. Upon returning to America, one of his first purchases was a bidet attachment for his toilet. He splurged for an electric version that dispensed warm water up the bum. There were advantages to using a bidet. No matter how messy he was down there, the warm water cleansed his hole quickly and thoroughly. A dab with a few squares of toilet paper finished the job.
No pulling five or six lengths of toilet paper. No chafing. His hole was pampered, then healed. A roll of toilet paper now lasted weeks, not days. He saved money! He hated using public restrooms. Once, when forced to do so, he wiped so much that the cheap, rough paper actually injured his asshole. A bidet was a necessity, not a luxury. He installed add-on bidets in all four bathrooms of his Austin home. There was one in his office at the restaurant.
Max stood up, facing Asher. “You want to see my poop? Come over and take a look.” Max was pushing it.
Asher fluffed his dick, then stood beside Max as they judged each bowl.
“I think that second wave put you over the top, Ash. It’s a close call.”
“You’re the expert. I’m learning the ropes from the big dog,” Asher said.
Max started wiping, running the toilet paper up his messy crack as he stood next to Asher.
“I’m digging your hairy ass crack Max, and so are you,” Asher joked.
“I’m finished. You ready to wipe, Ash? Can I stand close to you, to get a good look?”
“Sure, Max. I’m guessing you want to see the used toilet paper.”
“You read my mind.”
Asher kept his eyes and ears open in case anyone approached. He didn’t want to get caught showing dirty toilet paper to another man.
“Hey Max, take this toilet paper to the sink and wet it for me, will you please?”
Asher did his homework. He booked a top-rated snorkeling operator. Two snorkeling sessions were included, with a break between sessions. Lunch was served before the return boat ride. Asher planned to tip the guide ₡10,000, around $20. The excursion lasted eight hours.
They had a great time. Everyone involved—from the staff in the Uvita office to the bus driver and guide—was professional, attentive, and caring. It was the highlight of their trip so far, well worth the price.
On the boat ride back from Caño Island to Uvita, Asher suggested making the evening part of the adventure.
“Since we’re almost there, how about dinner in Uvita?” he asked. “I found a place that looks promising—Fernando’s Restaurant. I’m in the mood to unwind, enjoy a good meal, and have cocktails. What do you think?”
“I’m in,” Max said. “I’m pretty worn out after all that swimming, but it was the experience of a lifetime.”
The food and service were good, but oh, those drinks.
Guaro Sour
The Guaro Sour is a classic Costa Rican cocktail made with guaro, a clear, slightly sweet spirit distilled from sugar cane. It is shaken with fresh lime juice and simple syrup, then topped with club soda and served over ice.
Coco Loco
Coco Loco is another local favorite, served in a fresh green coconut opened with a machete. Rich and deceptively strong, it combines coconut water, coconut cream, guaro, white rum, and sometimes a splash of tequila, finished with lime to balance the sweetness.
After two hours, “a few cocktails” had clearly become much more than that. Asher was relieved that Max was a happy drunk; he had never seen him so lively.
Asher felt the drinks too, but it was time to leave.
“Let’s settle the bill and head back. I’d like to get to the cabin before dark. I’m hot and sweaty, and a warm shower and a comfortable bed sound perfect.”
Max was quiet during the taxi ride. He was plastered. For Asher, who still had his wits about him, it was a quandary. He was protective of Max, but he knew his guard was down. He was vulnerable, perhaps manipulable. Thus, the dilemma. Would the hijinks he planned be seen as taking advantage of Max? He thought not.
They washed each other’s assholes the first time they showered together. That’s mutual trust.
“Let’s get a shower now, Max, before we settle down. You OK?”
“Yeah, Ash. I’m fine. It’s been a while since I drank that much. Coco Locos are lethal.”
They gathered their things and made their way toward the restroom. The rain had passed, leaving the air cool and clean. A soft breeze moved through the trees. Evening was beginning to settle over the compound, the last light of day turning everything warm and gold.
As they stripped, Max said, “I need to piss.”
“Don’t go just yet. That’s part of the ‘reveal.’”
Max blinked in surprise.
Facing each other under the warm water, Asher said, “Max, aim that big dick of yours at my stomach and start pissing. Don’t be shy.”
Max’s reaction was surprisingly positive. “I’ve learned a lot about you on this trip.”
He pointed his penis at Asher’s navel, releasing a strong stream of urine. Asher’s eyes were closed. He was excited.
“What’s it like, Ash?”
“The sensation of the warm piss on my body is fascinating. An old girlfriend introduced me to water sports. We did it in the shower. Thanks, Max, for being open-minded.”
“We’re a pair, Ash. The Dynamic Duo of Poop and Piss!”
“Let’s get soaped up. Holler when you want me to do your back, Max.”
“Ready.”
Asher started on Max’s broad shoulders, circling the washcloth down to his meaty ass mounds. He lathered his hands, then entered the deep crack. His right middle finger cleansed, then gently penetrated Max’s asshole.
Max’s reaction was predictable. He got a hard-on.
“Wow, Max. I don’t have to imagine anymore.”
Max said, “Do me a solid. Give me a quick hand job.”
Without comment, Asher stood behind him, wrapped his hand around the rock-hard dick, and began pumping. He saw the appeal of a big dick. His penis, now awake, swayed back and forth and between Max’s substantial ass cheeks, in a grinding motion.
When Max’s legs stiffened, Asher knew he was about to blow. Which he did. Big. Multiple thick ropes of jizz spurted from Max’s penis on the concrete floor, feet away. Max closed his eyes and tilted his head back, enjoying the rush that comes with a satisfying orgasm.
“Damn, Ash, that was great. I don’t see how you can top that.”
“You know I’ll always have your back, Max.”
(AI used for pictures only. All writing is my own.)
Connor Storrie Is ‘Really Not Nervous’ for His Met Gala Debut [2/4]
Ugo Marchal
Pietro Boselli via Instagram
Diego Sans
CHARLES MELTON Men's Health April 2026
CHARLES MELTON Men's Health April 2026
CHARLES MELTON Men's Health April 2026