the-manlover

[the-manlover]

If God is a dj...

[the-manlover]

"Every year we pick out the best and the brightest from the Academy's graduates for our special training program. This year Marc here was the lucky one. It took him a few days to adjust, but as you can see, our methods are very efficient. A few more days and he will be ready to shave his head and wear our uniform. Heck, he will be proud to be a member of the Marlboro Squad!"

[the-manlover]

A Night at the Opera

Ernest and Jasper were both no friends of the big appearance. Their parents had taught them from an early age to always appear far less than they were. The two had come to the opera by subway. That Ernest's velvet loafers cost more than a month's salary of most people around them, probably no one suspected here. The red carpet was laid out for the premiere in front of the Royal Opera. As Ernst and Jasper approached, a rapidly fading flurry of flashbulbs began. The two looked like stars. Flawless. Beautiful. Cultivated. But no one had a clue who they were. So the photographers pounced on the C-list couple, who were getting out of a presumably leased Bentley right behind them. Ernest raised an eyebrow, barely noticeable. Jasper smiled knowingly. The two politely accepted the program and went to Jasper's family box. They had made a generous donation over 200 years ago that enabled the laying of the building's foundation stone. And together with Ernest's grandmother, Jasper's father now ruled over the opera's patrons' association. It was not a problem if they were not recognized here.

During the first intermission, the two quickly agreed that it would be a wasted evening if they were to watch the opera to the end. The singers were mediocre, and the production tried to paper over logical gaps with crude, obscene provocation. Yes, Siegfried was certainly no easy opera. But they actually loved Wagner. But they wouldn't survive another three hours like that. Ending the evening with a glass of wine in front of the fireplace seemed considerably more appealing. They exchanged a few pleasantries with acquaintances of their parents, who were also waiting at the coat rack, and walked through the dusk towards the subway. And they were happy with their decision.

The subway wasn't particularly crowded: Jasper had bought a copy of the Times from a newspaper seller. Even though the premiere was still going on, there was already a scathing review of it in the arts section. Of course the critic was unfair and biased. But his style was delicious. Ernest hummed a bit of the overture's melody when a young man, who was the complete opposite of the two, stumbled over Ernest's legs on his way out the door. The boy was muscular, tattooed, and dressed to show off as much of the muscles and tattoos as possible. Definitely not their class. He swore and showed Ernest the middle finger. Ernest just smiled superiorly. And got the slime from the yob directly in the face. “Do you think you're better than me? Maybe. But not for much longer.” The yob laughed and jumped through the already closing doors onto the platform. Ernest wiped the slime from his cheek. Not all of it… A little bit had run into his mouth.

They got off at the next stop. Ernest's stomach growled. He asked if they could quickly get something from the supermarket on the way home. Jasper said that the fridge at home was well stocked, but he was happy to do it for me. Cumberland Food & Wine was really on the way and he could possibly get a bottle of red wine. While Jasper was scouring the shelves without finding anything he liked, Ernest filled his shopping basket with protein bars, chicken breasts, rice and eggs. When the two met at the checkout, Jasper looked at his husband questioningly. “I just felt like it,” answered Ernest. “Honey, anything you want!” answered Jasper.

Once they arrived home, Ernest immediately disappeared into the kitchen of their impressive apartment on Bryanston Square. By then, he had already eaten three protein bars. Jasper rolled his eyes and retreated to the library. He took a small glass of port and continued reading about the history of the Persian language. At least this way he would be able to end the evening with a little wit. He lost track of time and only woke up when he heard noises coming from the living room. Ernest had taken off his jacket and shirt and was eating a mountain of chicken breasts with egg rice at the coffee table, still wearing his trousers and undershirt. The TV was on. “What are you watching?” Jasper asked. With his mouth full, Ernest replied that it was the new season of “Made in Chelsea”. “You know, the stuff with Reza in it.” Jasper didn't know Reza. ‘The Reza from the gym. Reza Amiri-Garroussi!’ Ernest wiped his hands on his undershirt, pulled out his cell phone, opened Instagram and showed Jasper pictures of a young man. Jasper didn't even know Ernest had an Instagram account. ”Hot guy, honey! Do you know each other?” “Best bros!” Ernest smiled. Tonight had obviously not had a good influence on him. Whatever. Jasper was tired. He kissed his husband on the forehead and wished him good night.

The night had been wild. Ernest had come to bed at some point and had rammed his boner into Jasper's ass without much warning. This wasn't loving sex, it was fucking without any foreplay. Hot, animalistic. Uncharacteristic. But damn, once Ernest had filled his ass until the cum was dripping out of it, Jasper didn't care about any of that. He had never been fucked like that before. No wonder the rest of the night was full of wild dreams. When he woke up, Ernest was no longer in bed. The satin sheets needed urgent washing, with dried cum stains everywhere. Jasper went to the kitchen. Ernest had obviously already had breakfast; the pan for the omelette was in the sink, along with the dishes from dinner, and on the work surface was a thin layer of protein powder dust. Jasper felt somehow strange in the apartment. Something was weird. Did they always have such a monstrously large TV? And was that their furniture? It all looked so much like something from a furniture store. And not like design classics and antiques… “Bros, that's it for this morning! Good pump! Have a sick day!” The sound of the dumbbells hitting the floor showed that Ernie had finished his morning pump. According to the floor plan, their home gym was actually a children's room. What the hell would they need that for? Now it was the place where Ernie shot the videos for his YouTube channel.

Jasper was standing in the doorway. Ernie turned off the cameras and lights. Sweat glistened on his naked torso. Jasper's cock went up. Ernie turned around, saw the semi-erect cock and just grinned, “You dirty piece of shit! You know damn well we're out of time. Auditions are in an hour. And you should shower.” “Look who's talking!” Jasper replied. Ernie smelled his armpit. “That's the way it is, it's my trademark!” He put on a basketball jersey lying on the floor, grabbed Jasper's cock in passing and gave his friend a fleeting French kiss. Jasper knew that Ernie had rights. They had to leave in 20 minutes at the latest. Just enough time to jump in the shower and do a few pull-ups to pump up his muscles. He looked at himself in the mirror. Yes, he looked awesome!

“Love Island” could be Jaz's big breakthrough. At the audition, he was simply eye-catching as the incarnate bad boy. His snotty way of speaking and his arrogant, misogynistic macho appearance had convinced the producers that he could make it big in the trash reality soap. Sure, it sucked that his best buddy Ernie hadn't been taken on either. But Ernie was just already too popular. His fitness channel had tens of thousands of followers. And his appearance in the next season of “I'm a celebrity, get me out of here” was a done deal. If things went well for Jaz, he would follow in Ernie's footsteps next year.

Many bores from the educated middle class would probably look down on Ernie and Jaz with disgust and contempt. But hey, the two of them made good money, went to all the hot parties, and last weekend Bentley had even provided them with a shiny gold car for an Insta-story. The car had been pure porn. Surely everyone who stared at them with open eyes thought they were pop stars or something. It was only a matter of time before they became famous. They were young, sexy and camera-hungry. The future was wide open for guys like them.

[the-manlover]

[the-manlover]

Travis Van Winkle as a blond Superman

[the-manlover]

[the-manlover]

[the-manlover]

[the-manlover]

CODY CHRISTIAN

[the-manlover]

Take a detour

[the-manlover]

[the-manlover]

variation on a theme #5. 1 scene, 7 ways. different guys, gags, and cops. i don’t think this one’s a real cop though. got a favorite?

ai generated video and audio 🔊 from one of these images

[the-manlover]

variation on a theme #7. 1 scene, 7 ways. different guys, gags, and cops. got a favorite?

ai generated video and audio 🔊 from one of these images

[the-manlover]

couple shots of a dude in a spiderman costume bound and gagged, tied up to a chair by his buddy

ai generated video from this image

[the-manlover]

[the-manlover]

Apply for a session in which we finish you off together! Pictures, ideas and what you are willing to pay! Applications to: Telegram: @FRxxJan

[the-manlover]

Kevin thought he was auditioning for a modeling job at Shinesty. That was only a half-truth that they told him to rope him in. When he met with who he thought would be his boss, a man named Kyle O’Connor, he felt a strange jolt when they shook hands. He thought that was weird, but passed it off as just a static shock. Over the course of the interview, Kevin started to feel faint. Kyle was asking him all sorts of weird questions that had nothing to do with modeling. What was his favorite color? What was his favorite animal? What kind of men was he interested in? How many people would miss him if he disappeared? They got harder and harder to answer, until Mr. O’Connor finally laughed an evil laugh and let him in on his secret.

“I’m a warlock, Kevin. Ancient Irish Druidic Bloodline. And I have the power to transform men into lesser things, such as clothing. And here at Shinesty, with our new Ball Hammock underwear flying out of stock, we could use some extra pairs. You’re going to become a nice pair of underwear for us. You’re not going to model them. You’re going to BE them.”

The last thing Kevin heard was that evil Irish laugh before his vision started to go green, then his skin started to turn green, as he flopped down slowly into his chair, looking like a deflating green balloon, unable to do anything but sigh and resign to his new fate.

He woke up being worn by a crazy dude-bro with a nice mullet. Kevin got what was promised to him, to be featured in their hottest new ad for the Shinesty ball hammock underwear, but he didn’t realize it would be like this.

It’s not so bad, he has to admit to himself. The snake face on the underwear is what his face looks like now, and this sweaty mullet bro’s cock and balls are filling the pouch, which is his head, so he literally has dick for brains. It makes him kind of horny, except his own dick his now just equally distributed into the green spandex with the rest of him, so when he gets hard it translates as a light tugging on this mullet man’s junk. It’s mutually beneficial for them both, really, the wearer and the worn. Kevin’s going to have to get used to this pretty quickly. This is how it is for him now, green snake print ball-cupping underwear.