29 year old guy living in the Pacific Northwest. I'm into dominance and submission play. Usually, I get into being dominant, but a true Alpha male can usually get me to submit. I like my men tall, thick, and hairy.

I write gay erotic stories and post them at www.nifty.org under the name Cosmic Charlie. You can find the full list at cceroticstories.blogspot.com. or by clicking the "My Stories" tab below.

I post pics that I find hot. My turn ons include uncut dicks, spit, strong smelling men, pics of body worship and submission, piss, and most raunch and kink. I have a serious gear fetish and love a hard cock bulging through some briefs.

This blog is NSFW. Pics were found on the web. Email me to get them removed. Shoot me an email at cosmic709@yahoo.com.

 

Anonymous asked
I know mike & prof had to end sooner or later.. I wish it was later though. Loved, loved, loved the storyline and everything about it. My favorite of your stories

Thanks a lot. I’m working on a new story that will hit on some of the same themes. Can’t promise that it will live up to Basketball Jock and Prof, but it will be about a developing relationship and emphasize that story over sex (still lots of sex, though). Hoping to post the first chapter after labor day.

Sent in a new chapter of Dad’s Proper Place. Check it out at my blog if you’re interested. http://cceroticstories.blogspot.com/2014/08/dads-proper-place-part-10.html

natubaku asked
I've been a fan of your writings for a while but never stopped to thank you for the good reads, so Thank you! You're a great writer who gets the whole Dom/Sub relationship. Keep doing what you're doing, I know I'll keep reading ;)

Thanks man. Good to hear from you.

Anonymous asked
Loved "Becoming a Rugby Bitch". Would you consider continuing the series with Coach & Bates?

Right now I’m going to leave those characters behind. I might come back to them at some point.

Anonymous asked
I find your dads proper place series hot as hell! It has helped me get off many times. Any idea when we can expect the next chapter?

Posted one on my blog and sent it in to Nifty. It should be up there soon.

captionstojerkby:

When I heard two girls talking about it at the shop, my ears had perked up, even though I’d tried to pretend I wasn’t eavesdropping.
I mean, I’d heard about it, sure. You couldn’t walk past a bookstore, turn on the TV, or load up Amazon without seeing it, without seeing that pale blue cover with two young hands entwined. I’d even thought I was maybe going to read it later, when the library could finally keep the thing in stock. But that probably wouldn’t be for a couple of years; tragically failed young romance (that is: all young romance) never goes out of fashion. Which is weird, when you think about it, since once you’ve read one of those stories you might as well have read them all—all young love’s the same.
But then I heard those two girls talking about it.
"No, it’s his best friend’s older brother. They hate each other, right, but the whole thing’s set in this super tony town in Connecticut, you know, and he needs an English tutor. Private school thing. They read poetry." I scoffed under my breath. Of course they fucking did.
"It’s not weird, though, that it’s two guys?"
"No! It’s just so, so romantic, the way that they draw each other out. He’s confused, and the tutor’s kind of a prick, but then by the end of it—oh my God, the way that, at the end of it, he—"
"If you want me to read it, bitch, no spoilers!"
"Fine, fine. And the fact is—" She had lowered her voice; I found myself leaning back to try to catch what she was about to say—"it’s really, really hot. Their first time is in this boat late at night out on the lake, right, and they—"
I turned around right then, reached between them, picked up a copy off the display, and headed to the counter. I had already read the first five chapters in my car, sitting in the Barnes and Noble parking lot, before I made myself drive home, put the book down, and take a shaking drink.
I sat at the table in my kitchen and picked it back up. I didn’t recognize the author’s name, and the picture was of someone I didn’t know, either—somebody from Collier, maybe? Looking back, I’d figured we weren’t as discreet as we’d thought. But no; as I read through to the end—to how we ended—there were too many details that lined up, specific ones like the Housman, like the way I’d said his hips felt in my hands. Maybe it was that he was the husband (and suddenly, I hoped he was happy) from the “lives in Brooklyn with his husband and two dogs” on the dust jacket. Maybe he’d told the story of his first time to his boyfriend, who was a writer (and suddenly, I wondered why I didn’t write anymore), and that’s how this story of young love—of our love; I said they were the same, but each one’s as different as the grains of sand on a New England beach when you look at them up close—ended up in my hand.

captionstojerkby:

When I heard two girls talking about it at the shop, my ears had perked up, even though I’d tried to pretend I wasn’t eavesdropping.

I mean, I’d heard about it, sure. You couldn’t walk past a bookstore, turn on the TV, or load up Amazon without seeing it, without seeing that pale blue cover with two young hands entwined. I’d even thought I was maybe going to read it later, when the library could finally keep the thing in stock. But that probably wouldn’t be for a couple of years; tragically failed young romance (that is: all young romance) never goes out of fashion. Which is weird, when you think about it, since once you’ve read one of those stories you might as well have read them all—all young love’s the same.

But then I heard those two girls talking about it.

"No, it’s his best friend’s older brother. They hate each other, right, but the whole thing’s set in this super tony town in Connecticut, you know, and he needs an English tutor. Private school thing. They read poetry." I scoffed under my breath. Of course they fucking did.

"It’s not weird, though, that it’s two guys?"

"No! It’s just so, so romantic, the way that they draw each other out. He’s confused, and the tutor’s kind of a prick, but then by the end of it—oh my God, the way that, at the end of it, he—"

"If you want me to read it, bitch, no spoilers!"

"Fine, fine. And the fact is—" She had lowered her voice; I found myself leaning back to try to catch what she was about to say—"it’s really, really hot. Their first time is in this boat late at night out on the lake, right, and they—"

I turned around right then, reached between them, picked up a copy off the display, and headed to the counter. I had already read the first five chapters in my car, sitting in the Barnes and Noble parking lot, before I made myself drive home, put the book down, and take a shaking drink.

I sat at the table in my kitchen and picked it back up. I didn’t recognize the author’s name, and the picture was of someone I didn’t know, either—somebody from Collier, maybe? Looking back, I’d figured we weren’t as discreet as we’d thought. But no; as I read through to the end—to how we ended—there were too many details that lined up, specific ones like the Housman, like the way I’d said his hips felt in my hands. Maybe it was that he was the husband (and suddenly, I hoped he was happy) from the “lives in Brooklyn with his husband and two dogs” on the dust jacket. Maybe he’d told the story of his first time to his boyfriend, who was a writer (and suddenly, I wondered why I didn’t write anymore), and that’s how this story of young love—of our love; I said they were the same, but each one’s as different as the grains of sand on a New England beach when you look at them up close—ended up in my hand.

tfootielover:

sexy bush line and a good tan line to go with it..and them shorts is looking a little bulgy ;))))

tfootielover:

sexy bush line and a good tan line to go with it..and them shorts is looking a little bulgy ;))))

(Source: taxxonomy)

thedjinnjoint:

Freshman Year - In The Raw

College ass is not going to compare well with all the shiny cheeked, perky pink, ballon knot buttholes you lusted for on Tumblr. They’re going to be of a more spicy variety. Frankly you’ll be lucky if he’s learned to whip properly. Once you get that hygiene thing licked (pun intended), rough and ready rimming is what life is all about.

I finally got this blog thing down. Whip it out and visit The Djinn Joint to see.