#flexrated

The sun was just starting to set as Clark's daily chores around the farm were coming to an end, which meant he had spent the last several hours soaking in the rays of the sun and savoring the feeling of power that coursed through his body. Donning nothing more than his favorite faded plaid shirt and denim daisy dukes, Clark's chest sat perky and plump from where his hefty pecs kept the parts of his shirt separated. The gentle breeze of the wind blowing by more than enough stimulation to have the peak of his nipples tight and pebbled. However, this time---the round, heavy weight of his pecs felt even more thickly packed with muscle as they jiggled and jounced with each step that he took across his farm land.

In fact, Clark's chest felt so swollen and plump from the day of sunbathing that he didn't think to do anything but sigh out and arch into the hands that had reached suddenly from behind him to squeeze and knead the pronounced and bloated heft of his massive, round muscle tits. "That's nice..." he remarked, not realizing how easy he was melting into the touch until his head dropped back and his half-hooded gaze landed on the other's face. "That's --- Oh my, what are you--- just highly inappropriate, is what that is... Stop that," he grunted out and shivered. Making no move to actually tear himself away from his current company's strong and intrepid hands. There was no denying the way his shorts bulged with a thickening cock from having his chest caressed.

         A good and honest man could only take so much before he finally bends onto the will of temptation—fuck, Steve could even say he’s held on for far too long when all he had been seeing all day was that all-American prime muscle beef in the rigors of his own hard and honest work while the supple and silken bounty of his sinful brawn had practically spilled out in their heavy bounce and juicy flex. For the sun, that’s what Clark said. Steve understood. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t make Clark less tempting—if anything, if made him even more so. The Man of Steel himself having to display himself like that, to have to go on about his day like that… just because he needed to. Fuck. No amount of bombshell pin ups could even measure up to that. Jiggling. Heaving. And with the sweat on his brow, Clark’s arm just swelled so proudly in the name of wiping off the dizzying weight of labor and the power coursing through him. He told him about that too. Getting primed. Getting pumped. Getting full. The good captain sure as hell held for long enough———and the mere fact that he had snuck up from behind and finally let himself indulge in that damn squeeze was proof enough.

Fuck. To feel Superman himself melt against his own hard body was enough to goad a low growl against Clark’s ear as he let his strong hands knead and heft those juicy melons as if to test their fullness. Not that it wasn’t already obvious with how obscene they looked. Steve just needed to feel it, savor it—especially so as he knew how easy it was to goad out those deep sighs and moans as he felt those big juicy cheeks grind against his own crotch as his little squirms that made his beefy body jiggle got those tiny slut shorts of his to get munched in even more.

“I think modesty has long left the station when your big muscle bitch tits right here had been bouncing like they’re asking for a milking,” Steve whispered gravely as he nuzzled the thick cords of the hero’s neck while his strong hands squeezed forwards as if he’s forcing the fullness to swell on forward towards his large nipples where the firm glide of his fingers ended up with a sterner pinch at those already swollen nubs before letting his thumbs continued on to circle at those tips gently but deliberately as if testing how hard they had gotten—and how sensitive they had grown. Still, Steve fucking loved it when Clark still played coy like this, he could almost feel that handsome face of him blushing while every tease that the soldier did made him even weaker for it. He could only chuckle then.

“———and most especially when I already got you moaning... sounding all slutty...”

It was still a blur as to what happened or how he’d gotten here. Had he been drugged? It felt like it - all Peter knew he’d been taken but he wasn’t sure what for exactly, whether or not it had been a random kidnapping or something deliberate...but either way the reasons why seemed less important then the fact it had actually happened. Because there he was, stripped down to just his boxers to show off that surprisingly toned and compact body that was bound by leather straps across his torso that wrapped around his arms that were bound before his back. His hair a mess, his big brown doe eyes filled with panic and confusion as they settled on the once slumbering man who was now waking up.

Another human? Maybe he was a captive too - maybe they could help each other, but that hope seemed to be crushed fairly quickly when the man began to speak up and Peter soon realized that he had been...given to this man as a present, presented in his quarters like a trophy. The question and the title caught him off guard, not to mention the large hand on his neck as Peter had to look up to gaze at the man towering over him. In any other situation he might have focused on how handsome the man was...but right now his man was elsewhere.

       it wouldn’t be the first time bryn’s depraved mind came up with some eccentric way to pass the time. having woken up with the fattest piece of morning wood, he’d found it more than normal to have a little competition with his camping buddy-- see who lasted longer-- maybe even gauge who came the most.       “oh yeah? better start gettin’ ready to clean then, mate--”       there was no way he was going to lose this, even if it meant a little cheating to sway the odds in his favour, bryn was much too lazy to do any cleaning up after himself-- not when he usually got other people to do it for him so easily. eyes roam over lip’s body for a moment, own cock twitching and spurting out some precum, an audible plopping noise resonating through the tent as it hit the plastic flooring. there was something about his friend that turned him on more than any girl he’d seen before, those bright blue eyes contrasted against pale skin making the welshman want to do nothing more than to stake his claim over the other. 

setting: Warchief Urag sits on his throne when a band of raiders returns with fresh spoils, a prince among their hoard. 

As was customary whenever a band returned from a raid, the orcs under Urag was entitled to whatever spoils he wished to take from their hoard. He sat now upon a throne of bones, the men and orcs he’d killed along the road to his ascension to power bent and fused together to create the imposing seat as he glowered down at all those who approached. His tent teemed with incense, the stench of stale grog, perfume, blood, and freshly butchered meats permeated the air about him.

The most recent raid had been through the human’s territory, and while a number of lives had been lost, they were small in comparison to the people that Urag’s warriors had taken. Had he been there himself the campaign would have lasted even longer, but Urag’s days of raiding were behind him - now he lived for the virulent drums of true war, and the pleasure of staking his claim in the prizes that were laid at his feet. Cattle, women, fine jewels and flimsy human blades were scattered before him. Each Urag looked upon with waning interest before he took notice of an individual hidden at the back, Torlak, the leader of the raiders shifted after to shield him but Urag’s voice bellowed as he stood. “Step aside Torlak, ‘fore I gut you for your greed.” The orc was a beast of their kind, but Urag was even larger, violently he shoved the raider aside to see the eyes of his greatest enemy staring him dead in the face.

Urag would remember them anywhere, cutting and pure, cold but bright. The king of the humans had traded blades with him decades ago when both were still young, before Urag’s ascension to Chieftain of the orcs. But time did not touch the skin of men the way it did orcs, Urag had aged slower, but this boy was far too young to be the king that Urag remembered. “The prince-” Urag stated, shock on his features before his tusked lips widened into a great smile, laughter boomed from his throat as he looked across the boy’s youthful features. A rough, calloused hand that had known countless wars and battles gripped his face, so massive he could have crushed it with one hand if he wished to, but instead he squeezed the size of his face together and forced his eyes to look at him. “I’d recognize your father in you anywhere.” He released the boy and grabbed the chains that worked as his lead, returning to his seat and yanking him along. “I take the prince as my prize. Now leave us, take your treasures with you and be thankful I do not claim them for myself as well.” When they were very nearly alone, he asked the prince. “Tell me, prince, what did your father name you?”

Peter had always had trouble saying no to Tony Stark. Ever since the day he met him and idol turned to mentor, turned to...well something more along the years. Sure they had fun with other superheroes, usually together but when it came down to it...well, Peter ended up with Tony most nights whether it was in the heat of passion or just curled up close and dozing with the older man. Which is how he found himself currently trying to fight a smile when he felt the kiss on his shoulder from the older man. 

“I know that look, you’ve got a meeting today remember? Or like five if I remember right, so no distractions. I’ll be fine until you come back, I’m pretty sure I can find something to distract me while I wait.” He remarked resting his head on Tony’s shoulder, smiling at him through the mirror. 

m/m smut gif promts ! | gif

Daffy loved caked. It was his favorite baked treat of all time. His favorite to make and to eat. And that also went double for all the round, firm asses that people tended to refer to as ‘cake’, as well, which was a double entendre he didn’t know the origins of but wholeheartedly approved of still. Because it didn’t matter to him, whether he was on top or bottom with whoever he was sleeping with, he’d still be unable to keep his hands off their ass if it was as thick and full as the cakes he made.

Then in walked Mitchell into his life, with the most sinful arch to his back and the tightest, perkiest ass Daffy had ever laid eyes on. And it was all Daffy could think about. So really, it was an inevitability that they fall into bed together, oiled up and sweaty from a workout together as they kissed each other breathless. Their hands everywhere and anywhere on each other until Daffy finally had the older man on his stomach with a titillating arch to his spine. The other man’s pliant, pink hole nestled between two thickly muscled ass cheeks that Daffy just had to plant his face in so that he could take his sweet time with licking and fingering the man open. His own dick standing proudly stiff and aching by the time Mitchell smoothly opened up around not two or three fingers, but four of the fingers of his right hand.

It was all too easy to finally take what he wanted. His thumbs pulling at the edges of Mitchell’s slick rim to spread it open wide and watch as the pink, pillow-soft clutch of the blond’s hole enveloped the tip of his cock, and then all eight inches of his shaft. So slowly and smoothly, until Daffy pulled right back out to watch that hole gape for him and then thrust right back in with one easy glide of his hips. “Oh, oh, fuckin’ hell... you’re so hot and tight, Mitch... I could fill you right up, make you into my favorite cream pie...” he teased with breathless laughter and quick, short pumps of his hips.

Mitchell absolutely loved it when men played with his ass. Especially younger men, the beefy guy would gladly be subservient to any young man that knew how to play with his muscled ass properly. He’d eyed up Daffy and knew immediately he wanted the young man’s cock in his ass, and set to work pretty quickly on getting his way. Mitchell was never one to beat around the bush, especially when he was horny. It wasn’t long until the man was on his knees, ass in the air and back arched with expert perfection, knowing very well the perfect way to show off his fat ass. Mitchell’s legs quivered and a happy grin was plastered across his face as Daffy proved his expertise by eating the man’s fat ass fingered his hole.

Mitchell looked back as he felt his ass stretch further and his eyes were focused solely on the boy’s cock, hanging heavy and unattended. “Fuck!” Mitchell cried out, resting his weight on his forearms as he arched his back even further, pressing his ass onto Daffy’s thick cock. “Yeah, you want this fat ass waiting to fill up whenever you need it?” He groaned loudly as the fat cock rammed into his stretched hole, and he smirked. “Fuck me, Daffy!” The older man begged.