Seanday Takeover: Caption This Catch Up

Sean's on holiday and asked me if I would fill in for Seanday. Hope you like!

Collan's Caption This Catch Up (2nd Mar)

2nd March, 2013 - Pic. 2

"Uhh, I don't get it."

I mentally cursed Jason for picking Derek. I should have made him choose someone that either (A) Tomas was already friends with, or (B) had some modicum of intelligence. Derek just would *not* respond to my usual tactics.

I may have owed one to Jason, but after this he would definitely owe one to me.

***********

I had started earlier that morning with my own pick, Tomas, a South African with my favorite type of body – tall, lean, somewhat hairy, with curly brown hair, a handsome face, a sharp wit, and an accent that I found sexy as all get out. I had learned his schedule and was able to snag him as he passed the alley behind the gym where he and Derek both worked as trainers. A quick request for directions to somewhere in the city, our eyes had locked, and in a moment he had followed me without question behind a dumpster where I quickly pushed myself into him and took his body and mind for my own.

Caption This (30th Aug)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

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Page Views for August 2014

Hi, I thought I'd start to share some stats from the blog on the last Saturday of each month. Just shows the top ten and how many times the story has been viewed.

His Brother’s Keeper

I had been outside mowing my lawn when the moving van had come to the vacant house next door. I watched rather enviously as load after load of expensive furnishings were unloaded and taken inside. I briefly caught a glimpse of the new owner when he was talking with the movers but other than that I had not seen him. He had been in the house for about a week when I decided to take a chance and introduce myself to my new neighbor. The young man who answered my knock was quite good looking. Under his fitted clothing he was well-toned and his hazel eyes beneath a head of dark hair gave him an irresistible charm.

“Um…hi, I’m your next door neighbor Darryl.” I said as I nervously extended my hand in greeting.

“Hello Darryl. Would you care to come inside?” He seemed friendly enough. I had expected dust and cobwebs everywhere but instead was greeted by a very clean foyer. “Please have a seat.” He ushered me into a well-appointed parlor.

“Thank you Mr.?”

“Pardon my manners. Please call me Mark.” He must have sensed my discomfort and did his best to make me feel at ease.

I found Mark to be an intriguing young man as we carried on a conversation. Despite my shyness we bonded quickly and soon were chatting like long lost brothers over snifters of a very fine brandy Mark brought out. I was so comfortable with him that I hadn’t noticed the time slipping away until the grandfather’s clock in the foyer chimed midnight. I said my good nights to Mark and promised to come over tomorrow to help him finish what remained of his unpacking.

Bakery Blues

I’d seen him come into my work every day after his daily work out, and I couldn’t ever keep my eyes off of him. I was jealous—envious of his muscles. I had worked out for a couple months straight and I had no success. So to see this big, buff man in all of his masculinity made my crotch twinge a little every time that I saw him. I asked if he wanted anything and he just managed to mumble out that he shouldn’t even have had the donuts that he had eaten yesterday with his diet, in between the handfuls of samples he was stuffing into his mouth.

Caption This (23rd Aug)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

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Guest Post: No Shirt, No Service

By Cris Kane

Staring out the front window of the art gallery, Simon Blake noticed the two studs as soon as they emerged from the surf. It was hard not to notice them, with their nearly identical gym-rat physiques and their swimwear color-coordinated with their hair. The one with slicked-back black hair was perhaps an inch taller than his companion and wore square-cut black trunks, while his pal with abundant red curls sported a red Speedo. Both had now slipped on their flip-flops and were toweling themselves dry as they walked across the sand.

When he had his job interview, Simon had found the location of this fine-art gallery peculiar. Although the beach certainly attracted its share of upscale visitors, Simon thought the shop would be far more successful if it were located slightly inland, among the other prestige boutiques which were frequented by the moneyed classes, rather than along the boardwalk with its t-shirt stores, hot-dog carts and Sno-Kone stands. Even so, Simon didn't think it was his place to question the gallery owner's business sense, and it certainly seemed unlikely that such second-guessing of his prospective boss's wisdom would be helpful in getting him hired.

Once he started working at the gallery, Simon discovered just how right his instincts were. The place got almost no foot traffic. Tourists in tank tops and baggy shorts occasionally peeked through the windows or, on rare occasions, swung open the front door and glanced around before quickly realizing that this wasn't their kind of place. Simon could go hours or even days between serious customers. Frankly, Simon had come to appreciate the peace and solitude of the job. Inside the store's undisturbed cocoon, he could munch on his packed lunch of fruits and veggies and listen to Mozart all day, drowning out the moronic hip-hop which was as ubiquitous in the air outside as the salt in the ocean's breezes. As a former art history major, Simon was relieved that the less sophisticated passersby didn't bother coming inside, as it meant fewer times he would have to educate the yokels on why some of the artwork on the walls merited a five-figure price tag.  Since Simon was paid a salary and didn't work on commission, he really didn't care that the gallery might go a week without a sale. How to keep the doors open on such little income was the owner's problem. If the owner hadn't found some sucker with no life like Simon to waste his days here, the place would likely have gone belly-up months ago. But having so few customers sure made the time drag.

Simon spent most of his days gazing out the floor-to-ceiling front windows at the passing parade of humanity. It was like watching a never-ending episode of "Baywatch" on the world's largest hi-def TV screen. He once tried to estimate how many square feet of exposed skin he saw on the average day. Unfortunately, the most out-of-shape tourists often chose to conceal their bodies the least. A decent share of those walking past were attractive young women in bikinis, but their assets were wasted on Simon. The two buddies strolling off the beach were much more Simon's type...aesthetically, if not intellectually.

Simon operated under the assumption that anyone who spent that much time perfecting their body was not spending it developing their mind. On the few times he had dared to try chatting up a particularly well-built hunk, they proved to be dumb and/or straight, seemingly dooming Simon to a life of being attracted only to men he didn't want and/or men he couldn't have. Simon just wanted to find one hot guy with whom he shared one crucial common interest -- that being an interest in getting Simon laid.

If he was trying to figure out the reasons for his near-constant celibacy, a quick look in any mirror should have given Simon a hint. His work uniform of a blue dress shirt, khakis and brown shoes didn't differ much from his usual wardrobe. On the job, he was required to wear a necktie, but he seemed incapable of making the skinny end shorter than the fat end. He typically rolled the sleeves of his shirt above his elbows, exposed thin, bone-pale forearms which could scarcely be termed an asset. He completed his nerd/preppy look with a pair of gold-framed glasses and a haircut so tidy and unmoving, it resembled the plastic hair you might stick on a Mr. Potato-Head.

As Simon's eyes lingered on the two studs' muscles shifting and bulging as they walked across the sand, he assumed they would eventually veer off to buy smoothies or something, but they continued on their course straight for the gallery's front door. When SImon finally realized that the one with the red curls was gripping the door handle, he rushed toward the entrance with the sad realization that he would need to turn them away.

Getting Back At Larry - Part 5

Collan's Caption This Catch Up

6th July, 2013 - Pic. 3

Part 5 - Red-Flag Warnings

Arlene, Larry, and Alice

Read Part 1 HERE.  Read Part 3 HERE.

Read Part 2 HERE.  Read Part 4 HERE.

And then it was over. I had fallen. I knew that as deeply as Larry loved him, now I loved him too. Just like that, and with perfect clarity of thought, I knew Bob was it. Bob was the one. Bob was the love of my life.

Dear god. What was I going to do?

***********

My moment of clarity ended as the lightning bolt of Bob Carson struck me. If my emotional state just then had been broadcast as a news item, it would have been a fire report:

'A sudden wildfire sprang up late Saturday afternoon and now threatens the community of Barrowville. Area residents have been evacuated by local authorities. The fire appears to have started from a lightning strike in remote Carson Canyon, but it quickly exploded out of the canyon and has grown exponentially in a remarkably short time. Initial reports had the fire at around only 400 acres, but fire officials now estimate that upwards of 27,000 acres are ablaze.

'More crews are being rushed to the scene, both from county and state emergency services, but with the fire currently at only 5% containment a request has been sent for additional help from the National Guard. Red-flag warnings remain in place for surrounding communities, and residents have been told to prepare for possible evacuation. The Forest Service has attributed the uncommonly rapid spread of the fire in large part to the ongoing emotional drought in the region combined with strong winds off the high desert, and has called this an exceedingly dangerous and unstable situation.'

"Larry? You ok?" Bob's voice broke through my jumbled thoughts. I tried to respond coherently as a drumbeat of desire pulsed beneath the raging inferno of my emotions. My cock was fully hard again, and the energy that had been buzzing in my body and pushing me to work out was now pushing me to take Bob and claim him, right here, right now.

Upgraded!!

How do you fancy a break away from home, work, your life even your body; And on return have a completely new body and outlook on life?

That was the parting comment from my business partner of four years. He was the type who lived it up big style. Partying, vacations, girls even guys on demand. Sure he worked hard for it, we both did. He spent his cash; I invested it. But somehow he had it all. Little did I know of his secret to staying looking, sounding and feeling youthful.

I explained that we couldn't both take a holiday, but he was adamant that it would all be left in very safe hands  and no one would notice any difference. I have to admit a 16 night vacation to Japan sounded bliss right now and was just what the doctor ordered!

Caption This (16th Aug)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

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Getting Back At Larry - Part 4

Collan's Caption This Catch Up

6th July, 2013 - Pic. 3

Part 4 - System Reboot Complete

Arlene, Larry, and Alice

Read Part 1 HERE.

Read Part 2 HERE.

Read Part 3 HERE.

I closed the door and locked it again, then turned and leaned with my back against it, wondering in what other ways my world could be completely altered in the course of an afternoon. One thing was for sure: I had to call the "Sisterhood of Three" and let them know what I had just found out. I wasn't sure how they would take the news, but all of Alice's plans were pointless now, and we were in a whole new ballgame.

***********

"Hi! This is Donna Graham, and you've reached my cell phone. Please leave me a message and I'll call you back as soon as I can! Bye!"

"Donna, I already texted you, but call me back as soon as you get this. Something big has happened, and we're going to have to change the plans for tonight. See if you can get hold of Alice and Arlene too. I can't get through to them either. Call me! Bye!"

I ended the call with a grunt of frustration. How was it possible in this day and age that I couldn't get a response from any of them by either phone or text? Alice and Arlene were probably all wrapped up in setting up Alice's bedroom for the "Larry-palooza" video shoot, and I had no idea where Donna had gone. I suppose I could have gone ahead and gone back over to Alice's, but I was enjoying being away from the fraught situation I had become embroiled in, and I wasn't entirely ready to dive back into the fray.

Besides, I was still trying to process Rebecca's revelations and what their impact would be on the rest of us, although ultimately, it seemed pointless to speculate without the others. I wondered how much longer I had before I had to be back at Alice's, but when I looked at the clock I was shocked to see that it was only 3:30, a mere three hours since Travis had pulled up in front of Alice's house. The afternoon had been packed so densely with incident and emotion that it felt like it was hours later.

As I sat on the sofa, I realized my knee was bouncing up and down with suppressed agitation and a need to do something. I recognized this with interest as a Travis habit. Larry had never kept his body suppressed. It seemed that not all of Travis had been overwhelmed by Larry when my world view had shifted, and the thought of that pleased me. It was definitely a sign, though, that I had to get up and get moving, and I knew where I was going to go. Before Rebecca's unexpected appearance, I had planned on heading to the gym, and with plenty of time still and no communication from the girls, there was no reason not to go ahead and get my workout in.

I decided to forego the fitness center in the building for the gym where I had a membership. I was feeling so good, and I wanted to go to a place where I could see and be seen. A body like mine started with great genes, but it took hard work to build upon that and maintain it. I bounded up off the sofa and back upstairs to pack my gym bag, noting happily that almost all of the workout gear I had to choose from was Under Armour, and all of it was designed to show off my body just the right amount. Tight, but not too tight. Revealing, but not too revealing. Gotta leave a little something to the imagination. Clean clothes and a fresh towel went into the bag with my pre-packed gear, then back down I went, grabbing wallet, phone, and keys on my way out the door.

Getting Back At Larry - Part 3

Collan's Caption This Catch Up

6th July, 2013 - Pic. 3

Part 3 - Livin' La Vida Larry

Arlene, Larry, and Alice

Read Part 1 HERE.

Read Part 2 HERE.

"Ok enough of all this!" said Donna, sternly. "The clock is ticking and we need to focus on why we're really here. Travis, we need those names for starters."

I thought for a moment, then began to list off all of the women in our office Larry had been sleeping with, while Donna kept track. By the time I finished my recitation all three women were looking daggers at me. I raised my hands as if I were facing a police officer with a gun. "It wasn't me, it was Larry. Not me, Larry. Remember?" I said quickly to get them to turn down the wattage of their hatred.

"Ugh, I know," said Arlene, fuming. "It just makes me so mad!"

"Well then, I think we need to make our plans for the evening," said Alice decisively. "It's time we made the douchebag pay!"

***********

"Wait a minute, from the way you were talking earlier, I thought the plans were already made," I said to Alice. "You had all the steps laid out."

"Well, I had the general outline," said Alice, "but I didn't know until yesterday afternoon that I would be getting the stuff to turn Larry into a suit, much less that Larry would fall for my lame excuse to get him here so quickly. Besides, it's not like we're talking about anything that complex. Ok, so we're short on specifics at the moment, but come on, we're intelligent people, and it's not like we can do much right now anyway. It's only two o'clock and the bars won't be hopping for hours yet. There's plenty of time."

"Well even so, I'd feel better if we can fill in some of those specifics," I said.

Alice rolled her eyes at me. "Ok fine, Mr. Worrywart. So step one, you become Larry. I think we've got a check on that one."

"Ya think?" Arlene asked archly.

"Step two, go to a gay bar," Alice continued, "and I actually *did* do some research and found *the* perfect place for you to hook up – The Unicorn. It's ranked the top dance club on the gay strip on multiple websites. How's *that* for planning, hm?"

"The Unicorn??" My mouth dropped open in astonishment. "You're crazy! Only the ultra-hot get in there!"

"Earth to Travis!" said Arlene, "*Who* do you look like right now?"

"Oh, right," I said. "Wow. That's actually blowing my mind a little just to think about. I'm hot enough to get into The Unicorn. Damn!" I actually shivered a bit in delight at the thought. Goosebumps rose on my skin, my nipples hardened yet again, and sure enough my cock wasn't far behind. I fought the urges down, and it seemed somewhat easier this time, which surprisingly disappointed me a little. I realized that I was starting to find the sensation of being out of control appealing somehow. It whispered to me of a freedom I had never really felt before.

Seanday Shorts: Turf Wars

I rounded the corner and searched the faces in the crowded mall. Milo's voice grated across my mobile, "Find him, FIND HIM!" I gritted my teeth, and ended the call. This was the gang's turf, and Antonio was trespassing. My mobile rang again--Milo. I hated him, what he'd done to my family, the advantage he had on me.

I heard shouting, the others had spotted Antonio running towards the exits, he hadn't seen me and I ducked back around the corner to head him off. I watched him running towards me, a look of panic on his face; our eyes locked and he shook his head, almost begging me to step aside. I looked away for a split second, and saw my kid brother taken away by one of Milo's guys--just a distant memory. I had no choice, and stepped into Antonio's path and tackled him to the ground. Seconds later the others were lifting him to his feet, dragging him to one of the quiet corners of the mall. Reluctantly I followed knowing Milo's plans for poor Antonio.

Milo sauntered up, cocky as ever. He was ruthless in his greed for power, but still small fry in the district. Six months ago, I'd been careless when I'd borrowed the identity of one of his men--they'd seen me. News got back to Milo, and he tried to recruit me into his gang, I wasn't interested. This really twisted him into a rage, he yelled threatening my life--but he didn't scare me. Then he went quiet, and the others shifted nervously. I had the impression that this wasn't a good sign. He pulled one of his guys to one side and muttered something in his ear, I swallowed when his eyes flicked towards me, and then his goon left.

He walked up, looking up at me; although he was short, his demeanour was that of a wild and dangerous animal. He smiled, corners edged into a sneer of a predator that's just cornered its prey. An hour later, he had my kid brother and to keep him alive I found myself working for Milo.

---

We crowded around Antonio, holding him in place. We waited, Milo waited until he'd said his piece, threatening that his brother would kill us all. I knew his brothers background, Milo was small fry in comparison. I discarded the thought and focused on my own brother. Milo picked at Antonio's sunglasses, but had his hand slapped away. His hands balled, and he mustered himself as the smile returned. "Let's see how valuable you are, I want to extend my 'hood--" he prodded at Antonio's chest, "now I've got you, I don't think your brother will stand in my way."

I watched Milo make a FaceTime call to Antonio's brother--Raymond. Antonio started to struggle again; I leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "Stop moving, otherwise you’re a dead man."

"You know my brother will come for me," he muttered to Milo.

"So what if he does, I got all the cards," he replied with a sneer.

Raymond's face appeared on the screen. "You! What the fuck as you calling me for you weasel."

"I want you to give me the south district," Milo grinned.

"You're an idiot, don't waste time."

"Have you lost anything?" Milo lifted the phone and showed Antonio. "Look what I've found, on my turf," Milo sneered. Then he dropped the facade, "I don't want your shit stinking up my 'hood."

Caption This (9th Aug)

** AMAZING NEW STORIES IN THE COMMENTS **

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Getting Back At Larry - Part 2

Collan's Caption This Catch Up

6th July, 2013 - Pic. 3

Part 2 - Group Therapy

Arlene, Larry, and Alice

Read Part 1 HERE.

"What is it Travis? Is something wrong?" asked Arlene.

At hearing her voice, I started again. In the intensity of the experience I had just gone through, I had completely forgotten the girls were even there.

"No, nothing's wrong exactly," I said, shaking my head to try and clear it some, "but I have Larry's memories now too, and just wait 'til you hear what else he's been up to!"

***********

"What do you mean?" asked Alice. "What else *has* Larry been up to?"

"Well," I said, "you three, my dear work wives, are just the tip of the iceberg. He's been fucking probably fifteen or sixteen other girls in five other departments. Wow, did I just say 'fucking?' I meant 'sleeping with.' Well, no, for Larry it really was just fucking when it came right down to it."

"That's hardly a surprise now, is it?" Donna said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Come on, Travis, let's get you dressed and get a list of names. We'll have to figure out how to start breaking the news to everyone else he's been screwing."

I started reviewing Larry's memories, putting names and faces together from the office, and as each one came to mind, more intimate memories started triggering. Larry's memories were providing me with images of the vast amounts of sex he had been having, and I felt myself starting to rise to the occasion again, even though I had just sprayed Alice's backyard with a prodigious amount of cum not moments before.

"Travis?" asked Alice. "What's going on?"

"Holy fucking shit, Alice. What is this doing to me?" I tried to pull myself out of the sexual storm building inside my body, but I felt my engines revving and I couldn't seem to stop it. I had jacked off in front of my three best friends, and I could tell in an instant that I was about to do it again. I had no choice. If I didn't I wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sex. And on top of that, it was Larry's women I was thinking about! I strode over to the patio with my once-again erect cock bobbing unashamedly before me, plopped myself down into one of the chairs, closed my eyes, and started going at it one more time.

Guest Post: The Last Resort by Cris Kane

McKinley Sinclair wheezed as he attempted to get out of the taxi. He'd shakily gotten both legs out of the car and was attempting to stand up when his legs gave way and his congested lungs voiced their opposition with a loud, phlegmy coughing jag.

"Mac, what in the hell are you trying to do?", yelled Wayne Archer, frantically pushing a wheelchair he had retrieved from the lobby. "I told you to stay put."

"I wanted to stay put, back home, but you wouldn't let me." Mac had argued forcefully against this trip ever since Wayne first suggested it. Mac didn't know much about medicine, but he knew cars, and in his experience, if multiple parts are failing at once, it doesn't make sense to put more money into a failing jalopy. If he were a car, he could be traded in for a newer model. Unfortunately for Mac, the best he could hope for at this stage was to be scrapped for parts, not that any of his worn-out organs would be of much good to anyone.

Maybe his eyes could be salvaged. They had managed to stay free of glaucoma and cataracts, and they were certainly working well now as he scoped out the staff of this resort Wayne had ultimately dragged him to. Much as he had complained every step of the way getting here, he had no complaints about the scenery now that he was here. Everywhere he looked were fit young men in their late teens to mid-twenties, rushing about in crisp pastel polos, tight khaki short-shorts and white tennis shoes with ankle socks. Wayne smiled as he noticed Mac's head swiveling madly, unable to control his gawking as one young hunk after another whizzed past. Young women were busily attending to their duties as well, but none of them got a glance from Mac.

"Where have to taken me?", Mac asked. "Heaven?"

Caption This (2nd Aug)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

(note: administrators reserve the right to delete what they consider inappropriate pictures in any comments)

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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