God, there’s this awful new guy at my work, some flamer they brought on for diversity or some shit. He’s always smacking on this bubblegum, and smells like cotton candy, wearing pink like some fairy. Last week he got all offended that I rolled my eyes and sighed when he walked past my office a bunch and said I’d be sorry. I guess it can’t be too bad. What’s he gonna do, steal my dick or some shit?
Hey Purple Fairy!
I met my husband in college when we were both pretty young and newly out. He was a hot little track star and I was an up and comer on the football team. But, we both loved the outdoors and after a few perfect weekends together it was evident to both of us that we belonged together. I loved his fresh, lean body and boyish charm.
I’ve always been a big guy: 6’3” and muscular from my years of lifting weights. Puberty hit me early and hard, making me well hung and nicely furry to boot. So when I met Tad it was fun exploring his tight, smooth body and cute little 5” dick.
Ten years later we are still in love, but I guess I had always expected that Tad would…I don’t know…mature a bit along the way. My buff college frame is still in great shape, but I’m a bit broader and my face has a few extra lines. But Tad is just as boyish and twinky as he was the day I met him.
I don’t want to change who Tad is, but part of me is slightly bored with being the only “manly” one in the relationship. Always lifting the heavy bags, always expected to do the manual chores…always being the top.
Hey there, Pink Fairy! I’ve got a request I’ve been wanting to ask for a while now…
Put short, I wanna be a cock. A big, dumb, hard cock constantly dripping precum and attached to a hunky, sweaty jock whose musk and pheromones can attract other hot guys for miles. A truly manly man like my Asian roommate, just the opposite of a pussyboi like me.
He doesn’t have facial hair or anything, but I like it that way, it lets me see his perfect face; it’s his big muscles, his reeking post-workout smell, and his dumb frat boy way of talking that get me going, and I heard that he turned his old crush into his jockstrap before he decided not to go to Europe…
Sorry, I got lost there for a sec, he’s just so hot… Anyway, can you grant my wish and have me swing between his legs for the entirety of his eternal youth, only able to talk with his jockstrap friend? I’ll give up as much of my brains as you want. Thank you so much in advance.
One of my friends is getting married soon, so we took it upon ourselves to plan a bachelor party for him. We wanted to celebrate the fact that he was finally getting hitched — to be honest, we were really starting to doubt he ever would — as well as have one last blow-out together as bachelors.
We found this resort. It was out in the middle of nowhere, but it billed itself as “the Last Paradise of Single Men,” and we thought that there would be no better place to go for his bachelor’s party. The airfare was surprisingly cheap, and the per-night rate of the hotel was pretty much a steal. We were all more than happy to go on a party that wouldn’t break our banks.
When we got to the resort, we realized that they hadn’t lied on their webpage. There wasn’t a single woman in sight. Everyone, from the guests that were lounging around in the lobby, to the staff that were assisting new visitors, was male. And every single one looked like a veritable god, wearing tight t-shirts and speedos that showed off their enviable endowments.
Maybe that should have been a warning. A red flag that something wasn’t right here. But we were high on the idea of a great vacation and we checked in without a worry on our minds. Now, I’m not so sure. My friends, they’ve changed, and I’m afraid that I’m next.
Lord Salim has been around for 1800 years. It’s about time for him to get a house boy.
Nate has a serious case of FOMO, but it comes around to bite him in the ass when he picks up an app that changes his life irrevocably.
Clive thinks he’s smarter than everyone, even a genie. Turns out, not really.