Riley's Boyfriend
Riley's Boyfriend
Reblog from Tumblr by idesofrevolution
A bit meta. Thought about this at work today. A guy can dream.
Riley sat there, waiting for his studmuffin boyfriend to show up. They planned a sexy romp in the woods that afternoon, and he was getting sweaty and irritated waiting for him….
Fuck. That sounds stupid. Im so glad I rewrote that. But more than that, I had no fucking idea who his boyfriend was going to be. I’d written 5 internet novels about Riley, and successfully avoided directly referencing his boyfriend. But fuck, I couldn’t keep him out forever, and I mean, writing such a badass, sexy university jock demigod have all these adventures n shit… There is no way he couldn’t land the perfect fucking jockboy boyfriend.
He’s a fucking nouveau Hercules. Gah. But every single guy I came up with seemed completely insufficient. I wrote character after character, stud after stud, and none seemed good enough for my Riley. I’m so protective of him, and still am. So there I sat, ridden by a complete writers block, in my bathroom with the shower running, typing away. Don’t fucking judge me.
This is ridiculous, I mean his powers are transformative powers! He can turn the smallest pebble into a fucking dinosaur. He’s turned hobos into sidekicks. I mean shit, he’d be the first one to create his boyfriend. He wouldn’t sit there and just ponder, looking at a barren document, waiting for something to fall out of the sky. And yet… I had no idea what was comin’ my way.
*pound* *pound* *pound* The door shook with every strike. I shouted out my typical excuse as to why I was taking so long in the shower, hoping to God that my family would just accept my piss poor plea and leave me alone. But, the voice that came from the other end was not what I had expected.
“Bro, just open the fuckin’ door.” A brash, confident, masculine voice penetrated the door: one that did not exist in my everyday reality. And yet, it was the voice of a person I knew all too well. I scuttled over to the door, hand on the handle.
“Who’s there?” I sheepishly called out, waiting for that ambrosia-laden voice to echo in my ears again. I looked down, and had my confirmation on just who it was. The lock slowly turned, and the doorknob turned. As the door quickly opened, a hand pushed me back into the room. I stumbled back, grasping the sink countertop to maintain my standing. I stood there, starry eyed, as Riley shut the door behind him, and locked it. “How… But, how…”
“Did you really think you could come up with someone like me on your own? C’mon man, you know better than that.” He sauntered over to the tub, sitting on the edge and kicking his feet up onto the toilet: lounging before my completely naked self. I realized then and there my compromising position and grabbed my towel from the hook, covering myself up. “Pssh. I know what you look like, bruh. You know it’s no skin off my cock if I see you nude.” He took his foot and kicked the towel out of my hands, returning me to my birthday suit.
“Riley. How are you here? You’re a fucking character. I came up with you in my head.” He smirked, burying his face in his hands.
“Did you not hear me? You didn’t come up with me. I was around long before you, and will be long after. Though, your recent account of my… actions has made me think about something.” I stood there, still awestruck and tonguetied at the very sight of who I believed was a fictional character. “You don’t know who my ‘boyfriend’ is, do you? You haven’t figured it out yet.”
“No… I was just about to write…” He waved his hand at me, immediately shutting and locking my mouth shut.
“You’re right. I haven’t talked about him. I’ve gone through like, 15 writers so far. It’s been what, 600 years since my life was translated into English? And in all that time, I intentionally didn’t choose one. Why do you think you haven’t figured out one yet? He doesn’t exist… yet.” He rises, and puts his hand on my crotch. “Yet.”
A shock of cosmic proportions rippled across my body as he brings my lips to his, gently kissing me. My hair stood on end, my muscles tensed, my heart beat like a fucking drum. I was experiencing that perfect tongue play and plush lips I had written about day after day. Feeling those strong hands crafted from the Gods above groping my dripping member. It was surreal, it was amazing. It was… distracting.
Deep down, I knew what he was doing, and even deeper down, I knew that I wanted what he was giving. It was time. So when I felt his electric touch on my groin, I felt the stirrings. I felt the lengthening and extra weight and girth… His hand was no longer fondling my cock… my balls… I wasn’t uncut. I wasn’t a 10 incher. I didn’t have dangling, gigantic balls. And yet, I did now.
He pushed me against the wall, one hand on my ass, the other on my chest, lips still locked in an endless tongue ‘n spit soccer match. My lower body began to lurch forward. A nicer cushioning graced my behind, as a perfect, gropable bubble butt protruded from me. My pecs inflated, and individual abs popped out like popcorn on my torso.
He flipped me around, bending me over, as his tongue found it’s way into my perfect, thick ass. I let out a loud moan of complete pleasure. He grabbed my wrists, holding them behind my back. With every lap and probing of his slick, warm tongue inside my jock butt, I felt my arms burst with power and strength. I could feel the electricity surging through them, building up each and every ounce of muscle. The tattoos that sprawled out across my body were simply an added bonus!
And finally, the part I had dreamed of, had daydreamed of, had written of… It was time. I felt him stand up, and the hard, round tip of his cock against my tender, sensitive hole. My welcoming hole opened for him, as he thrust his entire footlong inside me. I yelped, but immediately felt his hands against my thighs, massaging them and slapping them… It was pure euphoria. Every thrust, every slide of that massive snake into my hole was a pleasure that went unparallelled to anything I’d ever experienced. I felt every surge like an individual, full body orgasm; every second was like cumming twenty times.
I was tossed up onto the counter, my muscular legs stretched high above my head, as he missionary fucked me. He held my ankles, stretching my bulging hamstrings and calves, and flexing my rippled abs. He was smiling and smirking at his handiwork, furiously thrusting in and out. I watched with glee as he grabbed my right foot, and took a cocky lick of my sole. I felt them tingle and grow. One lick, two licks, three licks… they were becoming huge, ringing true the rumours of big feet & big cocks. He seemed satisfied with two big, musky, sweaty size 14 feet, as he growled with his increasingly aggressive thrusts. He grabbed my throat, pulling my lips to his once again.
I tasted subtle hints of my footsweat & ass musk, coupled with the already delicious, slimy spit in his velvety mouth. I knew that he was close, and I was ready. I was ready to be his. Completely. I knew everything about him. I was there with him all along. He was mine. I was his. He pulled away from the kiss, only to roar. I felt his hot, sticky seed stream out of his cock, seeping into every crevice and corner of my insides. I felt it seep up my throat, into my head… Into my very mind. Hot, sticky, manly… I was filled to the brim with him. The world seemed to slowly darken and dissipate, as I floated downward into it’s euphoric, endless bliss.
Yeah, it was fuckin’ sick. It was amazing. And after it was all done, after I had opened my eyes to who he had made me. Who I now was… Oh fuck yeah, I had to thank him! We did it again. And again. And again. I think we fucked for three days straight. By the time we had come out of our apartment, the thick, sweaty air poured out into the hallway, introducing the new me to the world.
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