u/VacationOk7073

Prompt///////

Character A- Call him Shawn for now, and Character B, call him Mark for now live three doors down from each other in the suburbs. Both 18+. Both come from middle class, fairly conservative upbringings, both have had only straight sexual experiences in the past, and both regularly jack off to gay porn, but have never admitted that to anyone.

From the outside world we look successful, stable, hot wives that other husbands envy, but we both sense when we met eachother that there was something we shared that we couldn’t put our finger on. Both of us have baited each other in the way bros do, even in front of the wives, but as we’ve spend more time together with the other neighbors over the last year that joking has gotten more and more overt. Last week a lightbulb went off for Shawn and he invited Mark to switch to his gym so they could work out together. The joking officially becomes an understood sexual tension and emotional connection with the events that occur over the next three weeks during their early morning workouts. The consequences of getting caught loom too large in both of their minds. The frustration builds, undoubtedly both are feeling mixed signals, there is a moment when they both notice the other watching in the shower, and then the morning routine falls apart… after a reasonable sounding excuse by Shawn or Mark.

In the following weeks both, unbeknownst to the other, found that their porn habits ramped up to overdrive. The awkward tension, which neither could explain, found an outlet in ever increasing levels of explicit gay porn. Then, in the middle of the day one weekend knocks on Marks door and says he’s going backpacking the following weekend and needs a hiking buddy. They both know exactly what that means. Shawn can barely believe he’s asking and may hope that Mark has plans next weekend. Mark is taken totally off guard. ////////

I’m easy going. Open to first or third person rp. Can do long responses or fast if we work out a time. Interested in making it long term.

Kinks (All negotiable): Oral, anal, body worship, edging, cum control, after care, passionate sex, kissing, cum play, light bdsm, (or heavy if into it), feet.

Limits: illegal stuff, animal stuff, extreme violence/injury, scat, vomit

It’s a long prompt, but I think knowing the characters ratchets up the intensity, and I love starting a rp with a big, emotionally intense, bang. Prompt first, kinks limits etc below. As always 18+ players & characters only.

(Prompt) It’s sometime in the late 90s. Character 1, call him Chase for now, is a fit skater type. He picked up the guitar like a natural at eight years old, child prodigy by ten, and admitted to Julliard on a full ride scholarship. Justin like mom. Only a month ago in fact, each phase of his life clicking just as seamlessly into place as the last. Things were going swell (“swell-better-than-swell” as his mom might say, which never failed to elicit the exact same plastic country club giggle from her friend June, enunciating it in that dumbass vapid sing song voice.) It was swell, until he abruptly quit after that first month. He was tired of all it, and most of all tired of denying who he knew he was. So, parked in his piece of shit dark green Honda Civic at the end of the driveway, staring back at his parents $8M house one last time, he shot a text to his parents and it was done. He turned right onto Smithfield Lane, a few essentials and a guitar slung in his trunk.

Rounding that last bend, his neighborhood coming into the rearview Chase wondered how long it will take to forget the last fucker’s name in this neighborhood. A year probably, maybe just a few months, everyone would be gone from memory. Every one of course except for Dave O’Leary. Family friend, coolest guy in the neighborhood, dad to Chase’s best guitar student, and his first official crush. That’s one name Chase knew he’d never forget.

Enter Character 2 (Call him Dave O’Leary for now) It was past midnight after the neighborhood senior graduation party, hosted at the O’Leary’s place when Dave and Chase spoke last. Dave had followed the faint smell of weed down to the basement, behind the door of his in home recording studio at the end of the hall. When he opened the door Chase was lying with his back on a loveseat, bare feet hanging over the back like he owned the place. When Dave crashed down next to him Chase was too buzzed to notice with headphones on.

Twenty four years his senior, Mr. O’Leary, husband of his mom’s best friend, looked like an Abercrombie model, a fact Chase loved to hate. So when Dave pulled one side of the headphones off Chase’s ear and asked if he’d pass the joint, Chase was caught without words. This was the first time he and Mr. O’Leary were alone since he’d turned eighteen. Bracing himself on the couch, the joint dangling between his lips, it was that thought coming immediately to his mind that made Chase laugh out loud. This was the weed he realized. The next thought that entered Chase’s mind was the fact that he was completely sure he had caught Mr. O’Leary looking at his feet earlier that day. His fucking feet, like staring at them. He was sure because after Mr. O’Leary noticed he was caught it was the only time he looked anything other than completely chill and in control. And then, dropping his bare feet in Mr. O’Leary’s lap and offering the joint Chase said “Trade ya a foot massage.” Chase startled even himself with split second, caution to the wind, decisions like that. (A few seconds after he had his feet in Mr. O’Leary’s lap he realized he was right about the look earlier.) Chase was either too excited or too stoned to then to think about what a dangerous game he was playing. This adult who he secretly fantasized about has an unmistakable hard on between Chase’s toes. And then he thought about his scholarship, how his mom would look at him if she found out, how she would screech his name out at the top of her lungs putting an exclamation point on the David, the O, and the Leary.

A few months later squeezing his purple foam steering wheel cover idling on the side of Smithfield Lane Chase couldn’t remember what he said when he left that night, but it wasn’t smooth. All he knew is he had jacked off almost daily over the past few months thinking about what would have happened if he stayed. Chase looked at his sweaty hand on the steering wheel. “slightly stupid.” A tattoo commemorating the the great Joe Strummer of the Clash, who said “You gotta be willing to act slightly stupid to get things done” Chase reached around and grabbed his flip flops. He pulled off one of his vans, then the other, then his torn up white socks. He swiped the lint off the bottom of each sole and took a look at his toes, long and pale, black paint chipped almost off every nail, then slid on his flip flops. Before Chase knew it he was standing in the door of the O’Leary’s house. When Mr. O’Leary answered the door with a huge smile, Chase registered only surprise, not even a shadow of any hard feelings. “I’m heading out, like for good.” Chase said. “Wanna get stoned again before I go?”

(About me) I’m easy, can do long responses, or quick and fast rp when we work out time. Interested in making it a long term if that works out. Can do first or third person, and willing to play either character. Kinks: Feet, age gap, oral, anal, edging, cum play, orgasm control, massage, body worship, risky public stuff. Limits: Anything illegal, bathroom stuff, gross stuff, painful stuff. That’s about it. If you’ve this long thank you, and you should hit me up.

It’s a long prompt, but I think knowing the characters ratchets up the intensity, and I love starting a rp with a big, emotionally intense, bang. Prompt first, kinks limits etc below. As always 18+ players & characters only.

(Prompt) It’s sometime in the late 90s. Character 1, call him Chase for now, is a fit skater type. He picked up the guitar like a natural at eight years old, child prodigy by ten, and admitted to Julliard on a full ride scholarship. Justin like mom. Only a month ago in fact, each phase of his life clicking just as seamlessly into place as the last. Things were going swell (“swell-better-than-swell” as his mom might say, which never failed to elicit the exact same plastic country club giggle from her friend June, enunciating it in that dumbass vapid sing song voice.) It was swell, until he abruptly quit after that first month. He was tired of all it, and most of all tired of denying who he knew he was. So, parked in his piece of shit dark green Honda Civic at the end of the driveway, staring back at his parents $8M house one last time, he shot a text to his parents and it was done. He turned right onto Smithfield Lane, a few essentials and a guitar slung in his trunk.

Rounding that last bend, his neighborhood coming into the rearview Chase wondered how long it will take to forget the last fucker’s name in this neighborhood. A year probably, maybe just a few months, everyone would be gone from memory. Every one of course except for Dave O’Leary. Family friend, coolest guy in the neighborhood, dad to Chase’s best guitar student, and his first official crush. That’s one name Chase knew he’d never forget.

Enter Character 2 (Call him Dave O’Leary for now) It was past midnight after the neighborhood senior graduation party, hosted at the O’Leary’s place when Dave and Chase spoke last. Dave had followed the faint smell of weed down to the basement, behind the door of his in home recording studio at the end of the hall. When he opened the door Chase was lying with his back on a loveseat, bare feet hanging over the back like he owned the place. When Dave crashed down next to him Chase was too buzzed to notice with headphones on.

Twenty four years his senior, Mr. O’Leary, husband of his mom’s best friend, looked like an Abercrombie model, a fact Chase loved to hate. So when Dave pulled one side of the headphones off Chase’s ear and asked if he’d pass the joint, Chase was caught without words. This was the first time he and Mr. O’Leary were alone since he’d turned eighteen. Bracing himself on the couch, the joint dangling between his lips, it was that thought coming immediately to his mind that made Chase laugh out loud. This was the weed he realized. The next thought that entered Chase’s mind was the fact that he was completely sure he had caught Mr. O’Leary looking at his feet earlier that day. His fucking feet, like staring at them. He was sure because after Mr. O’Leary noticed he was caught it was the only time he looked anything other than completely chill and in control. And then, dropping his bare feet in Mr. O’Leary’s lap and offering the joint Chase said “Trade ya a foot massage.” Chase startled even himself with split second, caution to the wind, decisions like that. (A few seconds after he had his feet in Mr. O’Leary’s lap he realized he was right about the look earlier.) Chase was either too excited or too stoned to then to think about what a dangerous game he was playing. This adult who he secretly fantasized about has an unmistakable hard on between Chase’s toes. And then he thought about his scholarship, how his mom would look at him if she found out, how she would screech his name out at the top of her lungs putting an exclamation point on the David, the O, and the Leary.

A few months later squeezing his purple foam steering wheel cover idling on the side of Smithfield Lane Chase couldn’t remember what he said when he left that night, but it wasn’t smooth. All he knew is he had jacked off almost daily over the past few months thinking about what would have happened if he stayed. Chase looked at his sweaty hand on the steering wheel. “slightly stupid.” A tattoo commemorating the the great Joe Strummer of the Clash, who said “You gotta be willing to act slightly stupid to get things done” Chase reached around and grabbed his flip flops. He pulled off one of his vans, then the other, then his torn up white socks. He swiped the lint off the bottom of each sole and took a look at his toes, long and pale, black paint chipped almost off every nail, then slid on his flip flops. Before Chase knew it he was standing in the door of the O’Leary’s house. When Mr. O’Leary answered the door with a huge smile, Chase registered only surprise, not even a shadow of any hard feelings. “I’m heading out, like for good.” Chase said. “Wanna get stoned again before I go?”

(About me) I’m easy, can do long responses, or quick and fast rp when we work out time. Interested in making it a long term if that works out. Can do first or third person, and willing to play either character. Kinks: Feet, age gap, oral, anal, edging, cum play, orgasm control, massage, body worship, risky public stuff. Limits: Anything illegal, bathroom stuff, gross stuff, painful stuff. That’s about it. If you’ve this long thank you, and you should hit me up.

It’s a long prompt, but I think knowing the characters ratchets up the intensity, and I love starting a rp with a big, emotionally intense, bang. Prompt first, kinks limits etc below.

(Prompt) It’s sometime in the late 90s. Character 1, call him Chase for now, is a fit skater type. He picked up the guitar like a natural at eight years old, child prodigy by ten, and admitted to Julliard on a full ride scholarship. Justin like mom. Only a month ago in fact, each phase of his life clicking just as seamlessly into place as the last. Things were going swell (“swell-better-than-swell” as his mom might say, which never failed to elicit the exact same plastic country club giggle from her friend June, enunciating it in that dumbass vapid sing song voice.) It was swell, until he abruptly quit after that first month. He was tired of all it, and most of all tired of denying who he knew he was. So, parked in his piece of shit dark green Honda Civic at the end of the driveway, staring back at his parents $8M house one last time, he shot a text to his parents and it was done. He turned right onto Smithfield Lane, a few essentials and a guitar slung in his trunk.

Rounding that last bend, his neighborhood coming into the rearview Chase wondered how long it will take to forget the last fucker’s name in this neighborhood. A year probably, maybe just a few months, everyone would be gone from memory. Every one of course except for Dave O’Leary. Family friend, coolest guy in the neighborhood, dad to Chase’s best guitar student, and his first official crush. That’s one name Chase knew he’d never forget.

Enter Character 2 (Call him Dave O’Leary for now) It was past midnight after the neighborhood senior graduation party, hosted at the O’Leary’s place when Dave and Chase spoke last. Dave had followed the faint smell of weed down to the basement, behind the door of his in home recording studio at the end of the hall. When he opened the door Chase was lying with his back on a loveseat, bare feet hanging over the back like he owned the place. When Dave crashed down next to him Chase was too buzzed to notice with headphones on.

Twenty four years his senior, Mr. O’Leary, husband of his mom’s best friend, looked like an Abercrombie model, a fact Chase loved to hate. So when Dave pulled one side of the headphones off Chase’s ear and asked if he’d pass the joint, Chase was caught without words. This was the first time he and Mr. O’Leary were alone since he’d turned eighteen. Bracing himself on the couch, the joint dangling between his lips, it was that thought coming immediately to his mind that made Chase laugh out loud. This was the weed he realized. The next thought that entered Chase’s mind was the fact that he was completely sure he had caught Mr. O’Leary looking at his feet earlier that day. His fucking feet, like staring at them. He was sure because after Mr. O’Leary noticed he was caught it was the only time he looked anything other than completely chill and in control. And then, dropping his bare feet in Mr. O’Leary’s lap and offering the joint Chase said “Trade ya a foot massage.” Chase startled even himself with split second, caution to the wind, decisions like that. (A few seconds after he had his feet in Mr. O’Leary’s lap he realized he was right about the look earlier.) Chase was either too excited or too stoned to then to think about what a dangerous game he was playing. This adult who he secretly fantasized about has an unmistakable hard on between Chase’s toes. And then he thought about his scholarship, how his mom would look at him if she found out, how she would screech his name out at the top of her lungs putting an exclamation point on the David, the O, and the Leary.

A few months later squeezing his purple foam steering wheel cover idling on the side of Smithfield Lane Chase couldn’t remember what he said when he left that night, but it wasn’t smooth. All he knew is he had jacked off almost daily over the past few months thinking about what would have happened if he stayed. Chase looked at his sweaty hand on the steering wheel. “slightly stupid.” A tattoo commemorating the the great Joe Strummer of the Clash, who said “You gotta be willing to act slightly stupid to get things done” Chase reached around and grabbed his flip flops. He pulled off one of his vans, then the other, then his torn up white socks. He swiped the lint off the bottom of each sole and took a look at his toes, long and pale, black paint chipped almost off every nail, then slid on his flip flops. Before Chase knew it he was standing in the door of the O’Leary’s house. When Mr. O’Leary answered the door with a huge smile, Chase registered only surprise, not even a shadow of any hard feelings. “I’m heading out, like for good.” Chase said. “Wanna get stoned again before I go?”

(About me) I’m easy, can do long responses, or quick and fast rp when we work out time. Interested in making it a long term if that works out. Can do first or third person, and willing to play either character. Kinks: Feet, oral, anal, edging, cum play, orgasm control, massage, body worship, risky public stuff, age gap. Limits: Anything illegal, bathroom stuff, gross stuff, painful stuff. That’s about it. If you’ve this long thank you, and you should hit me up.

DMs open or hit me up on tele @jm7073

Also open to sext. Tele disc snap. I’m a multi ruiner. You can get me to eat a full load of sperm for sure, but I’m usually just enjoying my cum after I ruin. Pics in profile. HMU if you wanna chat. Open to all ages