Kai-Aitken.tumblr.com

All the cute gays live fucking forever away. |:

Tue, 01 Nov 2011 14:18:28 -0400

Like, other countries and shit. -_-

~foreveralone~

Photo

Mon, 31 Oct 2011 00:27:00 -0400

Show us a picture of you?

Sun, 30 Oct 2011 15:58:02 -0400

You could check my facebook, which there’s a link to on my page..
but I guess I’ll post a few here..

Masculinity.

Thu, 20 Oct 2011 18:59:00 -0400

Early on in my childhood I’d discovered that my views of masculinity have always been more subjective than that of others. My love of the male form stems from somewhere deep within me, unmasked by the rest of my existence. Whereas most adoration people feel for this, lies solely in the form of nudity, I more fully appreciate masculinity in the most admissible of shapes. In a laid-back laugh, a gentle glance, a simple smile.. Even a humble handshake can fill my consciousness with the enchanting substance that is testosterone.

I remember the discovery of the sincere intoxication that pulsed through my veins when my eyes could detect maleness in the most raw of forms. Masculine energy seemed to fuel my animation, I appeared to thrive off the most diminutive revelation of even the slightest bit of masculinity.

In time I had started to scour men for the things I had unintentionally noticed for so long. I would jump at any chance to leave the house in the hopes of witnessing just one sample of masculinity, just a glimmer of testosterone influenced actions. Going to the grocery was somewhat of a haven for me, the twitch of biceps lifting plastic bags, the short tempered hair rustle of annoyed husbands and fathers.. The influx of attraction would shake me to my core, provoking emotional highs that would hold me tightly in their grasp.

As time progressed my desire for male contact continued on and throughout Elementary School I felt comfortable only in classes headed by male teachers. I rarely had “crushes” on boys of my age and always felt them to be “just too young.” Their preadolescence was no match for the hormone induced manliness that fueled my addiction.

Moving forwards through Junior High and High School was like candy for my cravings. The boys around me started to develop the same masculine tremors my eyes had been addicted to my entire life. I could feel the attractiveness of their puberty growing around me, seemingly surrounding me in every class I sat through. The allurement was overwhelming to the point where I started to skip classes to hide around the track field or the gymnasium just to experience the same exuberant high of masculine energy. Shirts sticking to sweat soaked bodies, the clenching of ab muscles with each heaving breath, it was all enough to make up for the failing grades and after school detentions.

To this day I still find myself lost in admiration, focusing in on random men inadvertently exuding their testosterone in displays of sheer masculinity. My love for all that is male continues to be unbending and unchanging.

But I have come to welcome my infatuation, to indulge in the bliss brought to me by unknowing men and to deal with the withdrawal when need be. It’s become the heart of who I am, this obsession, and living with it has become second nature.

©K. Aitken.

Whats 3rd person?

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 21:09:34 -0400

Okay, well..

The stories I have posted already are written in first person which is for example;

I put my hands in my pockets and continued down the block.

Whereas third person is from an outside perspective such as;

Kai slipped his hands into his pockets, walking down to the end of his street.

Get it?

I love you Tayler Icecube.

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 17:55:43 -0400

taylermaybe replied to your post: I’m following you even though i’m totally uninterested in gary stories. I love you anyway

FUCK MY PHONE. GAY* God dammit. I love you too. Fuck. I swear to god I’m not stupid.

I figured it was a typo, rofl. xD I knew what you meant bbygrl. <3

Thanks followers! :'3

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 14:57:31 -0400

I love you. :’D
I have three ides coming to you pretty soonish.

One’s pretty short and should be up in a few hours at the most.
One’s already about 75% done so that should be up sometime tonight.
The other I still have to type from my notebook, so maybe tomorrow sometime?

I'm following you even though i'm totally uninterested in gary stories. I love you anyway

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 04:27:29 -0400

In Gary stories? Hmm.. Good thing I don’t have any characters named Gary. xD
I love you. <3

i didnt know you wrote things until you just posted this on your facebook.you should have told us sooner. i like it.

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 02:52:55 -0400

Yeah, I don’t usually say much about it to anyone. Thanks though.

Information on Callum Sour.

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 02:51:49 -0400

Okay, so really quick I just thought that I’d tell you about my novel I’m working on.

It’s a two part series consisting of the first book, “I am Callum Sour,” and a prequel to be released shortly after called “Callum Sour: The Beginning.”

Soon I’ll be writing a short paragraph or two for use on the back of the books, and I’ll be posting those for your continued information on the series.

All the stories I’m posting on here are before or during the time of the Prequel.

Fell free to ask any questions you have about this, or anything else in my ask box.

Tattoo.

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 02:14:00 -0400

My eyes fell from his to look over his freshly exposed chest. It wasn’t something I’d never seen before, in fact it was probably the billionth time I had. For the past two years I had known him I’d only seen him actually wear a shirt a handful of times. Unless we were in a store or bundled up for the cold weather, he was shirtless. His name was Channing, it was so close to “charming” it couldn’t have fit him better. He was a twenty-four year old a college student, living on his own and I was seventeen and in high school. He couldn’t have been a better applicant for my first crush. He was sweet, and intelligent, the only problem was he was straight.
For years he was the only boy to make my heart pound up into my throat, fill my stomach with undeniable butterflies, and invade my sleep with the most perfect of dreams. It was impossible for him not to, he was gorgeous. We spent a lot of time together when he wasn’t busy with school or work. Though if he wasn’t at work he was talking about it. It was his passion, tattoos. Which explained why he was covered in them himself. He would talk on and on about how amazing it felt to be leaving his mark permanently etched in someones skin. It drove me crazy to see how excited he got talking about it, how happy it made him. I remember wishing that I could make him that happy, that he’d give me the chance to try.
Yet here I was, laying naked on his living room couch, watching him strip down to his boxers. A few days prior, the two of us had been talking about tattoos, as always, when he asked me to let him ink me.
“My parents would KILL me if I came home with a tattoo!”
“So we’ll hide it.” He caressed my shoulder with the back of his hand. My heart lerched.
“Where would we hide it? My ass?” He laughed, so did I.
“…What about your dick?”
“WHAT?” I coughed. “You can do that?”
“Of course I can.”
“Is it going to hurt..?” He was quiet, and I knew that meant yes.

A few days later and I was knocking on his door, my hands shaking from the nervous energy pulsing through my body. He opened it, and with out words he took me by the hands and brought me to the couch and I sat. He pushed me by my shoulders, and I let him lay me down. I opened my mouth but before I could form any words he held out a pack of cigarettes towards me. I took one, and he lit it for me as he spoke.
“You have to be hard.”
“I have to be what?”
“It won’t work if you’re soft.”

I felt my eyes widen as they looked down at the tattoo gun on the coffee table, there were bottles of ink lined up and a roll of paper towels. They wondered to his face as he lifted my legs and sat down on the couch beside me, laying them back down in his lap.
“How do you expect it to stay hard while theres needles being jabbed into it?” I swallowed watching his hands slid up my thighs, and grab onto my pants unbuttoning them.
“Oh come on..” He cooed, his voice as soft as velvet. “Are you saying you can’t get hard for me?”

Shivers danced along my spine as he pulled down my jeans zipper, sliding his hands back down my legs to my knees. I opened my mouth but couldn’t think of what to say. He pressed a finger to my lips.
“Shhh babyboy, I know you can.” Babyboy? He’d never called me that before.. but he’d also never slid his hands up my shirt like this. He bunched my shirt up above my chest and I pulled it off over my head as his hands slid back down my skin grabbing my jeans and inching them down. He stood up holding my legs, pulled off my shoes and then my pants. Clenched between my teeth, my lip throbbed as I watched him fall to his knees between the couch and the coffee table.

His attention turned to the ink bottles and mine turned to my boxers. As it turned out I was already hard and he had barely done anything. I found myself wanting him to just forget about that stupid tattoo and go back to touching me. I would have been just fine with that. He turned back towards me and I tried to think about anything else just so I’d get soft again and make him start over but it was useless.
“You have to stay hard the whole time..” I tried to look scared as I nodded, though I didn’t really have to force it. He stood up, and pulled his shirt off, before opening his pants and letting them fall. I felt my dick tingle with anticipation. I wanted so badly to see more, but I knew I wasn’t going to. His fingers danced along my hips just above the waist band of my boxers and I squeezed my eyes shut trying not to let it get to me but it was too late. Grabbing the fabric of the last bit of clothing I had left, I watched him pull them down to my knees and my cock stood straight up, begging for attention. Then he did something I hadn’t expected, he grabbed onto it, squeezing it tightly in his hand and I let out a loud groan before covering my mouth to silence it. A smile streched across his face as he looked up at me, stroking it slowly. After a minute or so of my brain being teased he let go of my cock, and picked up the tattoo gun. I grabbed his wrist, and he smiled.
“It’s okay, I promise.” I nodded and let go. “Are you ready?” I looked from his face to the gun before nodding again slowly.
The sound of the gun was loud and as he grabbed hold on my dick, streching the skin back I grabbed on to the fabric of the couch, chewing on my lip as he pressed the needle to my skin. It stung like hell and I felt to urge to smack his hand away as he moved the point along slowly. It wasn’t long before the buzzing stopped and he set the gun back on the table, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the excess ink and blood from my softening cock.
“I’m sorry.” but he ignored my words, looking up at me as he licked his lips before leaning down to press a line of soft kisses along my thigh as he gently rubbed the side of my dick that wasn’t laced with pain. Within seconds I had a raging hard-on again, and the sound on the buzzing filled my ears once more.

I watched as he worked, I’d never actually watch him tattoo before but the determination on his face was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. His hands worked in perfect harmony to strech back my skin and wipe away the drops of blood. I was entranced by it, and the time seemed to pass quickly as I fought through the pain. Eventually it took over me again and I could feel myself starting to lose it. He put the gun down, and I found my voice.
“Done yet?” He chuckled.
“With the outline..” I looked down, grabbing a hold of it and he shooed my hand away.
“No peaking.” It was just then I realized that I had no idea what I was letting him put on my body. We hadn’t talked about it, I never suggested anything and he hadn’t asked.

I took my hands back to myself, and watched as he worked for my erection again. To my surprise he got up off he floor and sat in-between my legs on the couch, pushing one of them off. Leaning down towards me again, his hand wrapped around the base of my dick and pulled upwards slowly, I winced as he passed over the tattoo outline the pain of it mixing with the pleasure of the constant movement of his hand. As he went up and down, I watched him lick his lips and move his face closer and closer to the head of my cock until I thought he was going to put in it his mouth. Then he stopped. I was hard and throbbing once again and precum had oozed from the slit of it, making him wipe his hand on his boxers.
“Sorry..” I mumbled as he picked up the gun once again and he ignored me, smiling. As he brought it back to my skin the sound filled the room again.
“How long have you liked me?” I was caught off guard, we hadn’t really spoken about it before. I told him I liked him, he told me he was straight and that was it.
“I don’t know.. Forever.” His eyes met mine.
“Are you in love with me?” I just looked at him before looking down at my dick which seemed to be getting softer again from talking on top of the pain.
“I think so..” He leaned down licking directly up the underside of my cock from base to tip, then continued drawing in my flesh.
“For how long?” My body pulsed with confusion, I didn’t know what to focus on between the pain, the conversation and trying to keep my erection from fading.
“I don’t know Channing..” He put down the gun and stared up at me, I was going soft again. Both of his hands grabbed hard onto my dick, and I gasped in pain as he moved them in opposite directions.
“How long do you think?” His eyes stayed on his hands, as mine closed not being able to keep them open through the amazing sensation coursing through my body.
“Maybe a year?” I managed to breathe out. More precum, he wiped it on his boxers. Picking up the gun again, I focused on the sound it made as he continued.
“Are you almost done?” I looked down at his hands, the pain from the gun had started to hurt in the worst way, I didn’t want to go soft again but I could feel it coming.
“Almost.” He smiled looking at his work as he put the gun down again, standing up and dropping his boxers. My jaw fell with them. I wasn’t sure if he had done it on purpose until he said “It’s okay. You can look.” Instantly I was hard again. His dick was beautiful and just as tan as the rest of his body and tattooed down the left side of it was a lightning bolt, a blue one.

Getting back down on his knees, he picked up the gun and continued to work as I tried not to stare at his body. Before I knew it the buzzing sound had left me ears and he placed the gun back on the table.
“All done.” He smiled, looking down at it. “How’s it feel?”
“It hurts, real bad.”
“Want me to kiss it better?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, holding it to his face he pressed a line of three barely there kisses to my freshly tattooed skin, sending a sharp stinging sensation through my body.
“Thanks..” I whispered barely able to push the sound past my lips.

He glanced up at me before licking up the pain infected area and pushing his lips past the head of my cock. I bit my tongue to keep from making sound as he pushed more past his lips until he gagged and pulled his mouth off, licking again.
“What’re you..”
“Shh..”

I closed my mouth and watched as he climbed over me, bringing his face close to mine leaving it there. My eyes closed, I was sure he was going to kiss me, and it felt like an eternity until his mouth touched my jaw. I was disappointed, but I stayed quiet. Soft lips left light kisses across my jaw and down my neck as I felt his cock dangle above mine, the head of it sweeping against my sensitive skin. I reached for it, but my fingers just barely brushed it when he grabbed my hand pulling it away. I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
“I’ve never done this before.” He was looking down at me as he got up on his knees. His cock was soft but mine wasn’t and I saw it pointing straight up behind him.
“Wait, done what..?” I managed to spit out in-between heavy breaths.

He climbed back between my legs, grabbing onto my dick again, shoving his mouth over it. He went down pretty far until he choked and pulled away from it, long strings of saliva connecting his lips back to my body. His hand slid up and down, squeezing so tightly that the combination of how good it felt and how bad the pain hurt made it hard to decide if I wanted to tell him “No! Don’t stop” or “Stop, No, Don’t.” He kept his eyes squeezed shut as he brought his mouth back to it, only taking a few inches in past his lips. He sucked hard on it, pumping the rest with his hand before dropping it again to cough and spit into the ashtray on the coffee table.

He came back again with more force, one of his hands squeezing tightly around my balls as the other held the base of my cock pointing it up towards his mouth, again as he wrapped his lips back around it, bobbing his head up and down quickly. I bit my tongue trying to hold back the small sounds the escaped my lungs but it was no use. Once his hand started moving again, making up for the space he missed that didn’t fit into his mouth, I was squirming around, loud sounds finding their way into the air until I couldn’t take anymore.
“Oh fuck!” I yelled, I couldn’t hold it back as I came in his mouth, squeezing onto the cushions of the couch.
“Ugh, fuck.” He coughed, spitting my cum out into the ash tray, gagging and spitting a few times before standing up, and grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the table.

He took one and lit it before handing me one with the lighter, he dressed quickly before collecting my clothes and handing them to me with out saying a word. I threw them on and sat still, not sure what to say or do. I’d never done anything with a boy before, I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. We sat there in silence until we finished our cigarettes, then he looked at me.
“You should go..” He whispered and I nodded before standing up. As I went for the door he followed behind me stopping me before I opened it. He spun me around, and placed a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Thanks for the tattoo..” but he wasn’t thinking about that.
“I’m sorry..” He whispered softer than before. “I tried.. but I don’t think I can do it..”

I just nodded and he opened the door for me. The walk home was unbearable, I couldn’t shut my brain off. It raced between thoughts and images of all that had happened I just wanted to get home, I had to see what it was.

I walked inside, went to my room and closed the door. I dropped my pants and looked at the painful mark he had left on me. Tattooed down the left side was a lightning bolt, a blue one.

Liar.

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 02:13:00 -0400

He had big brown eyes, blonde hair, and muscular arms, made just for pinning down smaller prey, like me. He almost fooled me with his big toothy grin. Said he was thirty, an accountant, but I could tell he was lying. He wasn’t a day over twenty-five and there was no ring indentation where his wedding band would have been if he was really married like he said. He was just young and horny, and why he was pretending to be something else I will never understand.

He talked and talked, on and on for what seemed like hours, while I just sat and listened. After a while I’m guessing he could tell how badly I wanted him to shut up, because he stopped mid-sentence, and pulled his shirt off so fast I could have sworn that it had just evaporated off his body. As my eyes fell over his muscular frame, tracing the lines of his abdomen, the rest of his clothes evaporated too.

“What’re you looking at?” He asked in a way that made him sound like he was offended, in a way that almost made me want to apologize, and advert my eyes like in the high school locker room.

“What should I be looking at?” I countered, and his face seemed to lift. He laughed and walked towards me, pushing me backwards by my shoulders so I laid back against the bed. His lips crashed into mine, in the messiest kiss I think I have ever had been a part of. It tasted like nicotine and lust.

I pulled back, “I don’t kiss.” Without words he just looked at me, unmovingly.

Taking control, I forcefully shoved him so he laid beside me on the bed, pulling myself to sit on his lap at the same time. Without skipping a beat I pulled my shirt off but before I could do anything else, his hands were on my hips and I was laying on the bed again. Apparently he didn’t like not being in control. I felt his hands grab the sides of my pants and in one full motion he stole the rest of my clothes from my body.

The next thing I knew he was kneeling over my chest and pointing his cock towards me. My tongue pressed to the tip of it, but he shoved right past it, pressing deep into my mouth. His hands grabbed each side of my head, holding it still as he bucked his hips towards my face. I looked up at him and he stared back into my eyes, speaking through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, like that. Fucking gag on my huge cock!” He panted, his hands shaking against my ears. I just looked at him. Had I gagged? I have no gag reflex, as far as I can remember. He sped up, pushing more and more passed my lips until my nose pressed against his stomach. “I said choke on it, choke on my fucking dick.” So I faked it, I squeezed my eyes shut, gagging against his flesh. I’m not sure if I convinced him, or if he gave up because a second later he pulled it away from me. As I wiped the strands of saliva off of my chin with the back of my hand, he grabbed me by the shoulder, and flipped me onto my hands and knees.

He moved behind me, spreading apart my knees with his own and grabbed me by the thighs, pulling me closer to himself. SMACK! Both of his hands came down heavy on my ass. I bit hard on my bottom lip. SMACK! Again, both hands, harder this time. SMACK, SMACK! The left, then the right. My body shuddered, and I readied myself as his hands lifted again, but they didn’t come back down. Instead they grabbed onto my hips, and I felt his dick press against me as he pulled me back towards himself.

“Do you want it?” He asked, squeezing my hips tighter. I opened my mouth but before any words came out he pulled me back against him and shoved the whole length of himself deep inside without hesitation, making me yelp and writhe in the pain of the unexpectedness of his size suddenly ripping me open. He moaned with satisfaction as he let himself linger there, then pulled back after a few seconds, wasting no time as he shoved all of himself back in as quick as he could. My eyes squeezed shut as my hands grabbed tightly onto the blanket on the bed which started rocking as he continued to thrust.

“Fuck that feels good.” His words were invaded with heavy breaths. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

“Yes, fuck yeah.” His hands smacked down hard on my ass again, and my body trembled.

“Tell me how good it feels, tell me how much you like it.” My cock twitched at his words and my head fell to see it bouncing between my legs as my body was being pushed back and forth.

“It feels so good, shit, I love it.”

“Yeah, you love my big cock in your tight little ass, huh?” He bent over me, biting down hard on my shoulder making me groan with pleasure.

“Mm, fuck yeah I do. Give it to me daddy.”

He straightened himself back up again, moving faster and faster. He pounded his cock in and out of me like a jack-hammer, moans spilling from our lips with each thrust. I turned to catch a glimpse of his muscles rippling as I heard the headboard start to bang loudly against the wall. He let out a deep moan, and I felt my cock throb at the lack of interaction, I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed onto it, squeezing it tightly but with the head of his cock passing over my prostate at what felt like a million times a second, it didn’t take long until I came. Squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a sound so loud it felt like I screamed, and shot my load all over my stomach and the bed beneath myself.

When I opened my eyes, he pulled his dick out, leaving me feeling empty as he flipped me onto the bed, once again on my back. Leaning down towards me, he licked a line up the underside of my cock from the balls to the tip sucking up all the cum before moving to lap the rest off my stomach. He swallowed it all down before backing up, looking over my body.

“God damn, you’re hot..” He whispered before grabbing onto his dick.

I watched as he jerked it quickly and unloaded his cum onto my freshly licked-clean stomach, before leaning back down and licking me clean again.

Introduction to Callum and Danté.

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 02:12:00 -0400

It’s usually hard for people to understand the relationship my husband and I share. It’s even harder for me to try and explain. The two of us are more different then I can even begin to describe, yet I’ve never in my life met someone I have so much in common with. The main thing is, we’re in love, and my “job” could never change that.

From the outside, people either wish they had our love, or can’t understand how we live the way we do. Our life is hard, but somehow we’re great at it, great at loving it anyway. Money is tight, but time is even tighter. We buy almost everything at goodwill or the Salvation Army and we live off of Mac-and-Cheese and Ramen. We only stop working to spend time together, which isn’t anywhere near as often as it should be. The floor of our tiny apartment in the worst neighborhood in the city is covered in laundry we never have time to do and more crumbled paper you’ve ever seen in one place at one time.

My writing is our way out. I write while he drinks red wine and when I’m finished, he reads, and at the end of every story, we’ll put on the old records and dance until one of us caves in and strips the other of his clothes. Without fail, this is what happens every time, we strip each other down and make love right there on the couch or on the floor. I find it hard to refer to our sex as anything other than making love, no matter how dirty it gets. It always ends the same way, curled up
in each others arms. He’ll stroke my hair, and talk in the softest voice I’ve ever heard about how we’re going to pay for the rent this month, or his upcoming job interviews, how he’s “really got a good feeling about this one.”

Being accustomed to this life is more than “making due” it’s more than “dealing” because I know one day when I look back I will miss these times. When I look into his eyes, those green and bronze, fiery jade sparkling eyes, I see our future. I
see the townhouse in the suburbs, the fenced in yard, the tire swing, the kids, the dog. All of it, it’s there. Our mattress on the floor replaced with a four-poster, the dirty laundry replaced with toys, and our pantry consisting of real food.

But past all this, I see us on the couch, drinking red wine and listening to old records. He’ll stroke my hair, and talk to me in that same soft voice. The conversation replaced with talk of PTA meetings, and what he’s cooking for dinner tomorrow when he get’s home from work.

Those are the days I’ll miss these ones, and I’ll remember seeing our future like this, deep in his eyes. I’ll remember it was his love that got me through.