daily-tiktoks · a year ago
@worms.forbrains(any pronouns): well I don’t have a pole, but I have a skateboard 😈
Short Description: [[MORE]]
Tiktok creator worms.forbrains skating and singing along to the song “Montero (Call Me By Your Name)” by Lil Nas X. For each line, there are seamless transitions that include outfit changes that range from feminine to masculine and everything in between.
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anxietygardening · a year ago
Boba Yaga
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Beth Sparks on Twitter https://twitter.com/sparksel/status/1387277973963878401?s=21
I have a love affair with the Baba Yaga mythos. I was pretty much born waiting to grow old enough to be a Baba Yaga. Pretty close. I'm at a more 'Eccentric Auntie' stage.
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sports-outsized · 5 months ago
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kniveslookbooks · 2 months ago
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strange & off-putting art student with a part time job hunting ghosts in rural vermont
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4gifs · 3 months ago
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Lucky skater
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f-airyy · 9 months ago
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twice moodboard
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begemots · 8 months ago
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he found a skateboard in the dumpster behind the berrics
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renareyart · 5 months ago
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Summertime~ 🌴🌺❄️
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viejospellejos · a year ago
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salmonskinrolltf · 18 days ago
This is a story prompted by random photos that I requested, sent to me by the following kind folks - @beardobession @guytransformedforever @tf-vigilante @dumb-and-jocked @mylifeforeva-blog @usb-cee @sjw-publishings - and inspired by a post I saw months ago that I'd like to link to, but I think it's been taken down :( I'll keep looking for it though.
Hello, my name is Evan. This is me:
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And this is my boyfriend, Paul:
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He's super hot, right? Obviously. There's just one thing. I'm super into muscle, and he is a little lazy. That stubble is sexy, but he only has it because he hates to shave. And of course, he hates to go to the gym too. But get this. I have the power to change the future. I can't change everything that results from a decision that I make, and my magic speeds the process along, physically and mentally changing whoever I use it on to make their life a better match for what I've requested.
That's why I've been a little nervous. I love Paul. I don't want anything to change except this ONE thing. But I've spent too much time scrolling through Instagram lately and seeing post after post from ripped dudes just rubbing it in my face. I think it's time.
Hi, I'm Paul:
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I can't explain it. A couple months ago I woke up with this uncontrollable urge to start working out. I started lifting weights every single day, feeling gains at an unprecedented rate. I would cool down afterward with a dip in the gym's pool, but soon I found that the pool wasn't enough and started taking up scuba diving at my local beach club.
Have you met my boyfriend Evan? He's super adorable, and he loves me so much. But I get so lonely when I'm at the gym without him. But here's the thing. I have the power to change the past. I can make a decision about something in anyone's past, and their present will shift to accommodate my change. But there's always a ripple effect. More changes than just the one thing. It's a whole butterfly effect sitch, you know? So... Should I do it? You know what, fuck it.
Hi, I'm Evan:
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Don't be intimidated by how yoked I am. This is what comes from a lifetime of hard fucking work, my dude. You'll get there if you just put your head down and commit! But here's the thing. I love that my boyfriend Paul and I can be gym buddies and fuck in the showers after a pump. I love licking the salt water off his skin.
But if I want to get serious about entering a bodybuilding competition next year, I need even more time at the gym that I can't afford. Both of us spend way more time here than we do at work. But I think there's something I can do about that.
Hey guys, I'm Paul:
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A couple months ago, I got an offer to start doing Let's Play videos for one of the top YouTube channels. They discovered I was really good at it, and I started making money hand over fist. I'm so proud to be able to support Evan's bodybuilding dream. He was even able to quit his job and pursue it full time!
I don't get to the gym quite as often as I used to, but I still have a pretty nice body, if I do say so myself. But here's the thing. As I spend more and more time online, I've kinda started to become obsessed with anime, k-pop, and all kinds of Asian pop culture. I've started jerking off exclusively to Asian porn stars. I don't want Evan's life to change too much... but what if my fantasies could become a reality?
Nice to meet you, I'm Evan:
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Sometimes, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I can't help but admire myself. I've always looked like this - good genetics, you know? But sometimes I feel like when I get an unexpected look at myself, I'm seeing an entirely new person.
That couldn't be possible, though. The only new people that are created around me are created BY me. Speaking of... I love Paul so much, but I was raised in such a buttoned-up family that sometimes I'm a little frustrated by how polite and gentle he is. I want to be a bit of a rebel. I want someone just a LITTLE edgier who doesn't fall asleep in front of My Hero Academia on the couch by 8PM. Should I...? I should.
Hey motherfuckers, I'm Paul:
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God, my life has gotten so much better since I stopped giving a fuck and got back to the gym more regularly. Sure, the YouTube channel dropped me when I wouldn't stop swearing on mic and showed up wasted to record a couple times. But life is so sweet, man!
Except for one fucking thing. Evan can be boring as shit sometimes. Like, dude needs to take a chill pill, stat. Or... What if he'd taken that chill pill a long time ago? Shit, almost forgot what I could do.
Sup bros, I'm Evan:
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God, it feels so good to rest my feet after a day at the skate park. But my Black Ops game keeps getting interrupted when Paul keeps wandering in giving me a puppy dog face and asking me to do tequila shots with him, then flipping me off when I say no. I think he's had one too many today, he keeps acting like we're boyfriends or some shit.
I mean, look at me. Do I look gay to you? Ew, now he's on the couch, trying to wrap his arm around my shoulder. Ugh, he's the worst roommate ever. You know what, if he wants to act gay, I can fuckin' help him.
Hiya neighbor, I'm Paul:
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Don't I look cute in this? I always want to look cute for Evan. I know my roommate is straight, but sometimes if I clean extra well he'll let me blow him. I know I look a lot different than I used to, but it's hard to find time to get to the gym in between doing Evan's laundry, making him breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and keeping the house just the way he likes it.
He has a girl coming over tonight, which I'm not looking forward to. But if I'm a good boy and stay quiet in the closet all night until she leaves, he says he'll give me a reward. God, I'm gonna be hard all night imagining exactly what it's gonna be...
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idesofrevolution · 5 months ago
In the Hands of the Sculptor
Stepping out of the Uber, you let the hot, humid air breeze across your face for the first time. Pulling out your french dictionary, you hoped that someone in Marseille would be able to speak your language, but you weren't holding your breath. It was your first time outside of your home, outside of your little bubble of cultural comfort, and it was exciting. You had a few goals for this little excursion: one, embrace yourself in the gay culture. Two, find a summer boyfriend. Three, have your beach body ready. That third goal, however was a little delayed. But sitting there, letting the hot sun and the cool ocean air, the sounds of crashing waves, honking horns, music and chattering... You knew immediately you'd be in town for a while.
The issue was finding a local guide to help him navigate this brave new culture. After all, you were far out of your element. Pulling out your phone, you start to google local hostels to crash at for the night until you catch someone peering at you from down the promenade. Shirtless, sunkissed, his gorgeous tanned muscles glistened in the hot sun, his big masculine feet sliding his longboard back and forth, and those deep brown eyes glancing at you made your heart flutter. You turn back to your phone, thinking to yourself in rising anxiety that he'd caught you checking him out. Just look busy fiddling with your phone, maybe you were just staring at the beautiful beach. Though, the sound of a rolling skateboard and skidding of shoe on pavement shattered that fantasy.
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"Vous n'êtes pas d'ici, n'est-ce pas?" His silky tenor voice had a laid back melodic quality that instantly put you at ease, though you had no clue what he was saying. Panicking, you start to flip through your french dictionary, as he chuckles at your demeanor. Smiling, he puts his hand on the book. "I can speak your language. My name is Beau." His heavy accent was difficult to understand, but you understood the gist of what he was saying. You introduced yourself and expressed that you were trying to find a good hostel to spend the night at. Beau laughed again, this time a bit more pointed. "It is summertime in Marseille... I wish you the luck, my friend. I don't think there are many places to stay."
You sigh, in the back of your mind you knew that perhaps reservations were a good idea before travelling. But the excitement of backpacking in the south of France was too overwhelming, and all sense of planning and organization was tossed out the window. You wanted to be as spontaneous as possible, but now here you were with no lodging, no mastery of the language, and no knowledge of the area.
"If you would like, I have a couch in my studio you can stay on? It's a mess, I was working earlier and left a mess all over, but you can stay if you need to." Looking down at your phone, he was right. No vacancies at any of the local hostels- you truly didn't have much choice. You agree and Beau smiles, slapping you jovially on your back. "Bien-sûr. Allons-y. We can go now." He takes your backpack, tossing it over his shoulder as he rolls away, forcing you to hasten the pace to keep up with him on his longboard.
The distance was farther than you anticipated, though strolling along Beau's glistening body in the summer heat, his strong musk gently trailing behind him, it wasn't so bad. You arrived after perhaps an hour of walking and rolling, pulling up to an run down building in the old town of Marseille. He pushed open the door, letting you in. The two of you ascend the stairs in silence, marching four stories up to the attic apartment. Each footfall from Beaus massive feet made the stairs shudder, though whether it was the dubious maintenance of the stairs of his sheer mass, you couldn't tell. Arriving on the fourth floor landing, he opens the front door to the studio.
The apartment was a sprawling open space, bright and airy, with four open doors leading to the balcony, their curtains fluttering aimlessly in the wind. Beau was correct, however, in stating the place was a wreck. Dirty clothes were strewn everywhere, art supplies were haphazardly tossed from one side of the space to the next, even a clearly very heavily used, still dripping fleshlight sitting on the very couch you were to sleep on that evening. You knew the French were sexually open, but you weren't quite expecting him to be that open. You weren't lying to yourself, you lusted over this beautiful specimen, as he tossed your backpack onto the couch and threw his hands triumphantly in the air.
"Et bien! Welcome home. I'm sorry I didn't have time to clean, I have been so busy with sculpting and it has been so chaud, ma fois I was sweating all over the place I could barely think." Putting that comment to the side, you distract yourself from staring at his glistening abs and strong legs. You sit on the couch, gingerly pushing the dripping fleshlight to the side.
"Oh you sculpt? What do you sculpt?" Immediately, Beau's face lit up. He smiled a genuine grin and eagerly plopped down next to you on the couch, propping up his huge feet on the table.
"Men. I love the male form. It is so... qu'est que c'est le mot pour ça... Beautiful." You smile earnestly, listening to him talk so passionately about his art, and how every ounce of a man from his body to his scent to his mind fills him with passion. He pauses, and his glance changes to one of intrigue. His brows lower, his eyes peering deep into yours. "When I saw you, I was inspiré." You blush and look down, not before taking a guilty glance at his massive feet propped on the table, teasing you from afar. "May I sculpt you?"
Your head darts back with attention to him, floored that he would be even moderately interested in sculpting someone like you. You intend to nod, but your trailing gaze betrays your primary interest as you admire this statuesque adonis. Your eyes move from his plump lips, to his meaty pecs, to his cobblestone abs, to the growing tent in his damp shorts... all the while letting his irresistible musky scent mesmerize you.
"Ah I see. You like?" He smiles as he raises his arms, flexing his bulging biceps, veins popping from the sheer strength of his muscle. Your heart melts as he winks at you and takes a deep whiff of his sweaty pit, sighing in complete satisfaction. He was incredible, so intensely beautiful, sensual... Unlike anyone you've ever known. Smiling, he brings his face close to yours, letting his minty breath cool your red face. "All you have to say is yes."
In a lusty musk drunk stupor, you nod, and he smiles as he guides your face into his dank pit. You inhale his sharp, salty musk as if it were the very air you breathe, huffing maniacally before calmly taking it in. Your tongue brushes over the bristly hairs, lapping up every single beadlet of his savory sweat. He retrieves you from his pit, your face ripe with his scent, and pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss. He kicks off his thrashed, well loved shoes, allowing the wet, heavy smell of his feet having skated all day in the summer heat of Marseille. He pulls his damp shorts and underwear down, tossing them aside, letting his slim, uncut 9 inch cock slap against your leg. You peer down at his musty member, the radiating heat from it warming your thigh. Smiling, he stands up, his semi hard dick and sagging balls mere inches from your face. He gently caresses the back of your head, with an intense look in his eye.
"May I sculpt you?" He asks one final time, and in a breathless huff, completely enveloped in the moment you affirm with a gentle yes.
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He flashes his pearly whites with a hearty grin before he places his ripe feet against your face. You take it in: heavy, wet, salty, sweet, sharp, reminiscent of the best blue cheese. You open your mouth to suckle on his toes, your mouth stretching a bit more than expected to accommodate his wide size 15s, but the flavorful taste of his feet were simply too delectable to pass up. He moans in pleasure, bringing his second foot to your lips. You feel your jaw stretch downward as his right foot plunges into your mouth, contorting your face like a silicone mask. You feel his feet push down your throat, your neck bulging and creaking as the outline of his huge feet slide further and further into you.
Grabbing the edges of your mouth between his calloused fingers, he stretches your mouth wide, thrusting his legs even deeper into you. The sensation of his wide, slick feet creeping down your thighs and calves was a strange mixture of fullness and warmth until his toes pushed into your own. As if pulling on a pair of socks, he grabs your ankle, stretching your foot wider and tighter over his until his heel slips into place with a loud snap. Beau wriggles your toes playfully, feeling his musky sweat start to drip from your soles. Standing on his (your) feet, he tugs firmly on your waist, pulling your legs up his, your skin stretching and squelching until they're bulging with his firm, lean muscle.
His breath labored, you watch as his musty dick slips past your lips, down your throat and press against your midsection. It starts to slide and press against the base of your cock, until he thrusts his cock into yours. Stretching longer and wider until all 9 inches are suctioned into your cock, his pendulous balls dropping like bowling balls into yours. He sighs in relief as he pulls the rest of you up his abs and pecs, sliding his arms tightly against his side, while your skin slides upwards, swallowing his broad shoulders in a loud gurgle.
Maneuvering his thick arms within you, you feel his wide, meaty mitts thrust into your arms, his fingers bulging outward under your skin, ending up filling your hands with his gruff, calloused palms. He flexed your thick, juicy biceps and ran your hands over your rippled abs, every sensation more sensitive and poignant than you've ever experienced. Finally gripping your lips one last time, he pulls your face over his, pressing down the skin and sealing him within you.
With an energetic pep in his step, he sauntered over to a podium, standing in front of a floor length mirror. Through your eyes you could see what he'd done to you. You were easily 6'7, same height as Beau, with the very same lean, glistening musculature which had graced his body. You see him smile with your face, and his silky voice poured from your lips.
"Et maintenant, à sculpter." With that, he brought your calloused fingers to your face and began to pinch, pull, and work your features. He widened your nose, pulled your eyebrows lower and pressed your jaw wider and sharper. Smiling, he rubbed your teeth with his thumb until they were a pearly white, and beautifully aligned. Happy with the results, he opened a small cabinet to the side, pulling out a puck of pomade. He scooped out a dollop of the black sludge between his fingers and began to run his hands through your hair, making thick, sweaty black waves of long healthy hair, rubbing the excess off on your jawline for a pristine five o clock shadow.
"Parfait. Eh bien, peut-être…" He shuffled through the drawer, pulling out a sharp black pen. He sat down on the podium, crossing his legs, and began to draw simple, yet beautiful tattoos on your arms, neck, groin, and feet. Finally, from a small box atop the table, Beau picked up a gold piercing, stretching your tongue out of your mouth and pressing it into place with no resistance. You could feel Beau purring with glee inside you as he finalized every last inch of you, until he'd sculpted an absolute masterpiece.
Beau beamed from ear to ear, hopping off the podium to his dank shorts, wet socks, and ripe shoes. Happily putting each item on, with them fitting absolutely flawlessly.
For the next week, Beau wore you non-stop. He carried on with his everyday life, skating from place to place, running errands, painting, lifting weights, jacking off in his favorite fleshlight... and as time passed you became more and more accustomed to this laid back lifestyle- the epitome of la vie boheme. You began to think your every thought in French, embracing the tranquil days on the beach, your addictive parfum de corps au naturale, the polyamorous barrage of men who either wanted that tight hole of yours, or the musty cock. Life was a breeze, and by the end of the seven days, Beau had no more to teach you, and stripped out of your body, dripping in his fragrant sweat.
Slowly, you felt your senses return. You brought your calloused hands to your smooth pecs, pinching your sensitive nipples. He'd truly given you a body and a life only a visionary artist like Beau could provide. Sauntering over to you with a cup of coffee, Beau chuckled.
"Alors qu'est-ce que tu en penses? Aimez-vous la pièce finie? So what do you think? How do you like the finished piece?" Filled with romantic passion and love for your sculptor, you pulled him onto your lap, still wearing his ripe clothes.
"Tu sais que j'aime ça. Je ne peux pas te remercier assez, mon amour. You know I love it. I can't thank you enough for this, my love." He kisses your neck, being sure to take a very deep breath of your own musky pits before passionately kissing you. "Et aussi, je m'appelle Pierre. And also, my name is Pierre." No longer whoever you once were, you were proud to be a kiffeur artiste français with your deepest loving partner Beau. No matter what sidepiece himbo found their way into your bed, you were in love.
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haologia · 24 days ago
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sk8er Boi !
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rakurairagnarok · 3 months ago
This story is heavily, and I mean HEAVILY, inspired by @idesofrevolution so if you like this story I suggest you check out his blog. Enjoy!!!
The hot pre summer sun beams down on the campus park roads. Dan and Mark slaunter through the dry heat, staring down at the concrete tiles. 
“I'm never gonna make it.” Dan mumbles.
“No don’t say that. You’re my emotional support roomie!” Mark grabs Dans arm and shakes him about.
“No way Mark, I have 3 essays, 2 reports and that massive World History test left…There’s 2 weeks left in the year!”
Dan lets go of his friends arm and begrudgingly reminds himself of his similar predicament. While they weren’t in any way slow students, the amount of work caught up to them and slammed both of them onto the ground. The final weeks of the year were always hectic but the boys had never had this much of a workload.
“Fuck!” Dan looks at his friend 
“You can say that again.” 
Mark state up to the sky. “I would give so much to just be able to relax man…”
As they turn the corner something catches their eye.
There, hanging of one of the benches is a ragged, dirty, old backpack is  one at that, but noone in sight to which it could belong to
Dan walks over and picks it up. “Do you recognize this?” he asks.
“Nope.. can’t say I do” Mark replies. “Maybe there’s a student ID in there?”
Dan nods and opens the bag. Instead of books or a laptop instead all he sees are two beanies and some junk. He grabs the beanies and tosses them over his shoulder. 
Mark grabs the black beanie of the ground and runs the fabric through his fingers. Its really soft, warm and it smells kind of nice. Mark stares at the hat in his hands and slowly raises it to his face.
' Its way to hot for a beanie,' he thinks to himself, 'but it does feel really good.'
He presses the fabric against his nose and takes a sniff. 
"Hmmm" Mark softly moans, his mind crashing to a halt. 
With no more inhibitions, Mark puts on the beanie and his mind goes completely blank. He looks at the other beanie on the ground and slowly picks it up. 
Meanwhile, Dan is still looking through the bag.
“I can’t seem to find anything here man. Do you see a wallet anywhere?” Dan ask as he opens another part of the bag.
Mark stays silent. 
“Dude you with m..Mark…?”
As Dan turns around he sees Mark standing behind him. On his head is a black beanie, one of the two that were inside the bag. Marks eyes are glazed over with a grin plastered onto his face. 
“Mark, are you okay?” 
Mark slowly nods and looks down at his hands, which are holding the other beanie. He then looks back up to Dan and his grin widens a bit. Dan shivers  the grin giving him the creeps. 
Mark does a step forward slowly raising the beanie up.
“Mark, youre creeping me out man…’ Dan says as he slowly takes a step forward. 
Mark then takes two big steps forward and rams the hat straight down onto jis buddies head.
“Yo man what the fuuuuohhhhhh” Dan was about to cuss his friend out but the moment the soft fabric is wrapped around his head a warm, fuzzy feeling spreads all over his body. His arms drop beside his body and his eyes glaze over much in the same way that Marks did. 
Completely in sync the boys turn around and start to head into town. Not a single word is said, but they know where they need to go. 
After about 10 minutes of walking they head into an alleyway , at the end of which is a small second hand clothing store. The boys head inside. Once inside the boys slowly gain back their sense of self. 
The first thing they notice was the smell. The whole store smells like a heavily used locker room, with a tang of weed. Slightly confused they look around and see a big guy sitting behind the counter. His strong intense eyes drilling into the boys' heads. He takes a hit from a blunt in between his fingers and leans back into his chair.
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"Hey guys, whats up" the mans deep baritone rumbles through the small space.  
"We uhmm…" Dan stammers
"We just came to look around." Mark interjects.
"Ahh.. I see you guys found the beanies." The man smirks and beckons the roommates over. "In here, I have just the thing" he says pointing towards a singular fitting room. 
Without much say in the matter the boys move towards the fitting room, both going inside as the man closes the curtain behind them. The boys, pressed together, look eachother in the eyes and just stare. 
Dan raises his hand and puts it on Marks chest. Without breaking eye contact Mark puts his hand on his roommates cheek.
"Whats happening to us" whispers  Dan.
"I have no idea" Mark responds softly. He strokes his friends cheek with his thumb as he feels his heartbeat rise.
Dan softly squeezes his friends chest as he starts to feel really warm. 
"Your eyes are… really pretty" Mark suddenly whispers. He moves even closer to Dan, until both guys can feel the others breath on their skin. 
Dan gulps, his throat is dry, hes sweating and he can feel his heart beating in his throat. Lookin at Mark he cant help but admit, his friend also looks amazing. This weird warm feeling in his chest everytime their eyes meet, is completely new. 
"You're also… really …" Dan tries to talk but suddenly his friend presses his lips against his and pushes him against the wall. Dan gasps , but slowly starts to run his hands across his roommates chest.
Outside the fitting room the owner snickers and tosses two sets of worn down, torn, sweaty and smelly clothes over the curtain.
The clothes slowly make their decent towards the two partners, their own clothes seemingly slipping of in their sweaty, sloppy exchange.
As their own clothes fall to the ground, the stall heats up even more. The boys bodies start to glisten with sweat. Dans small belly slowly starts to sink into his body. His flat stomach quickly making use of the lost fat by turning it into hard earned muscle as a tight row of abs pops into existence. His arms slim down, turning his flubby arms into lean muscular logs. His legs tone down, while his ass firms up slightly giving him some perky cheeks. 
Mark experiences the opposite. His skinny body filling out with muscle. His chest fills Dans hands more and more, while his ass starts to jiggle with every breath he takes. 
The boys underwear tries to keep up but before long it disintegrates into nothingness,  as a strong cheesy musk whafts into the air. They boys growing bushes both hold an even bigger surprise,  their small clean dicks are being turned into monsters both in size and smell. Dan cant hold it and runs his hand down to his partners rod, the strong smell making his own twitch and leak. 
The clothes finally wrap around the boys bodies, as the finishing touches set in. Marks jaw fills out with a chin strap beard as Dans skin starts to take on a slight tan. His hair also turns from straight dirty blonde, to curly black.
A pair of moist, sweaty vans slide onto their feet. The slightly squishy sole releasing even more stank into the stall, as their small feet grow into big behemoths, with a stench to smell from the other side of the room.
The two boys let go  and stare into eachothers eyes. 
"Fuck that … was intense" Mark says. He rubs his throat, his voice now an octave or two deeper. 
"Yeah that was insane…" Dan replies with a similar voice.
The curtain gets pulled open and the shop keeper looks at the boys with a content grin. The boyfriends look at eachother and then at the big man standing infront of them. 
"Goddayum… you guys look amazing." He says. He takes a step forward and both his hands disappear into the boys' pants. He grabs their dicks and runs his thumb over both their heads, before pulling his arms back and sticking his thumbs into his mouth. 
"Fuckkk and you taste soooo good." He grins and raises his arms above his head. " You boys deserve a reward… come to Daddy' 
The sweet sour smell that hung in the store gets amplified and Dan and Mark just stare at the sweaty and hairy pits of the man. With no hasitation they dive in and begin endulge themselves in the sweaty prison. Each drop they swallow their worries die down. Each lick slowing down their brains. Each sniff filling their deadbeat brains with new words, skills and memories.
Dane and Mike slowly back away from their boyfriends pits and grin. "Fucking hell Alejandro… you fucking beast…" Mike yells as he walks over to the counter and drops into the chair. He grabs the unfinished blunt and takes a hit. 
Dane walks over and sits on his other boyfriends lap and presses his lips onto his, which resorts in Mike softly blowing the smoke right into his lovers mouth.
"I fucking love you bro…" Mike whispers.
"I love you to babe… " Dan smiles and kisses him again. 
Alejandro grins and walks to the back of the store. "You two close up. Get upstairs quick though…I'd like to continue what we started."
They came out of nowhere,  but they are a common sight nowadays. Dane and Mike like to skate through the streets, only stopping for food, drinks, joints and sloppy kisses. 
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kropotkindersurprise · 5 months ago
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libbyframe · a year ago
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The chill skater pumpkin
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knoxvillenetwork · a month ago
the real teenage dirtbags
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