Friday, 23 October 2009
Preferring to go Straight
I’m sure any straight guys (and girls for that matter) who read this story will be disgusted at me for my deception. I am a confused creature as I really like straight guys. Now I mean straight guys, not bisexual, but really straight. This had led me to a few near misses as straight guys have a tendency to fancy women not other men. I know this sounds odd but they do. I have had to be very devious to get my wicked way since I have no urge to rape anyone and certainly not the strength to do it even if I had the urge. At 25, blonde haired and slightly built with a slim figure, I am not built for taking on the kind of guy that sexually appeals to me.
I haven’t been all that successful but the few successes have been pure heaven so I thought some people out there might be interested in them.
When United won the cup:
I can’t stand soccer but I love football fans. Groups of guys in heat over a subject as all consuming as football, drinking into the small hours while getting themselves excited over anything in a skirt, appeals to me. The trouble is, I may not be very effeminate, but I don’t some across as a full blooded heterosexual football thug. Hanging around in the bars they do, makes me stand out. However I broke my own guidelines one day after the FA cup final.
It was around 8.30pm on a Saturday night and the pubs were really busy. I was heading home for an early night having had a late lunch with enough wine to lower my guard. Walking towards me was a group of six guys, all wearing football tops and jeans. They would be in their late teens to early twenties and they were very drunk. Three were particularly attractive and one really stood out. He was lean, short cropped hair which was a bristle coating of redness as the short fuzz was growing back in. He was weaving and laughing and as he drew next to me he smiled, wandered across and shouted at the top of his voice, the news I knew guessed from their exuberance, that “United had won the cup.”
I smiled back and mumbled something like, “Yeh, great news,” to which he held both sides of my face, kissed me on both cheeks and then the lips and wandered back to his laughing mates.
“Come and join us,” he shouted as they meandered up the street.
I turned, as I tasted the trace of saliva left on my lips and the slight beery flavour, thought for about two seconds and then followed. They didn’t see me but within about 3 or 4 minutes, they had entered a pub and I followed. The pub was really busy and all the talk was football. The atmosphere wasn’t threatening in any way, more of a childish excitement. I bought a beer and stood watching the guys I had followed. They were drinking at a rate that left me agog. When my “target” went to the toilet, I followed and stood alongside him. He held himself upright by pressing his head against the wall while using both hands to hold his cock as he squirted into the urinal. His cock was normal size, and uncut but was enough to make my own cock rise and I had to cover it quickly lest he see.
He did look up and along at me and nodded a bleary “Hiya.” Then he looked again and said, “It’s you again, who are you with?”
I told him I had just popped in for a celebratory drink and he insisted I join his little group. By the time he dragged me back out, his group had diminished to three. The other three had spotted some girls across the bar and were pestering them with offers of drink which seemed to appeal to them.
“I’m Josh, and this is Mike and Sam,” he slurred.
“Good to meet you, I’m Ryan,” I said and gave as firm a handshake as I could muster.
Mike and Sam were as interested in my company as a visit from an old aunt and they quickly went back to monitoring their friend’s success (or lack of it) with the female fans across the bar. Only Josh showed a real warmth and friendliness as he asked me about my favourite players and what part of the game had impressed me most. Thankfully, he answered most of his own questions so didn’t notice that I had absolutely no knowledge of football at all. I could have listed all Lisa Minelli’s hits if he had asked but somehow I didn’t think he would be interested.
His friends, by now, had become involved in a heated discussion about the rights and wrongs of the match which gave me time to look at my little beauty unhindered. He stood about 5 feet 8 inches high, he had delicious red to sandy hair which was trimmed short to be almost stubble. He was slim but had a well defined body and he stood with his football top and faded jeans. His face had a few freckles around the nose, just spreading on to his cheeks and his bum was delightfully well shaped, like two little buns. He looked to be around 19.
“………and I’ll need to go soon anyway as I’m running short of cash and I am kind of pissed.”
I drifted back into the conversation. Josh was speaking to me and I had been so involved in sizing him up I had only caught this tail end.
“I have some beers and cider back at the flat, but not enough for six people,” I heard myself say.
“Who gives a fuck about them,” he said laughing. “Let’s piss off while they’re busy as I’m always up for a free drink.”
We were out of the pub and heading down the street before I had time to think. I wasn’t really sure what I was doing or even letting myself in for. I suppose I just hoped that at some point he would look into my eyes, say how pretty I was and fuck the arse off me but I had a feeling that this lad was just plain friendly.
He was weaving considerably on the way to the flat. I made a point of taking a roundabout route and more than once he said he hadn’t the faintest idea where he was. We got up to my little ex-council flat and he burst through the front door asking for the toilet. When he returned, he slumped on the couch and I put on the television to let him see the football highlights. He said he would love a cider so I opened two. The cider was downed as if it was a soft drink and he asked how many I had. I told him there was a six pack and he seemed happy to help himself to another. His talking was becoming more slurred and he slumped even more on the couch.
“Might need to stay a bit,” he said, “I’m just a wee bit pissed.”
He giggled and his eyes drooped. Suddenly he raised his empty glass and said, “Better be hung for a sheep than a lamb, eh.”
I gave him his fourth, well aware that cider is very potent when mixed and also more powerful than the taste would suggest. It took him almost twenty minutes of sipping, talking drivel, dozing and slouching before he eventually started to breath heavily as though asleep. I sat and watched him. His jeans had ridden up into his crutch and his package was beautifully presented.
“Dare I do anything with him while he was incapacitated,” my brain was ticking loudly and my heart was thumping painfully against my ribcage. One hour onwards and his arms were slouched over the arm of the couch and he was really low in the seat.
“I’ll put you flat on the floor with a pillow,” I said loudly.
No response. I pulled his body until his bottom dropped on to the floor with his back against the seat. I pulled down a cushion and he slumped flat out on the floor, his head resting back on it. I shook him but had no response except for rhythmic breathing. I rested my hand on the front of his jeans, my own cock rising quickly. His soft bulge felt so good. I squeezed it and could just make out the shape of his cock. I unbuckled his belt while mumbling to him about “making him comfortable” though whether he would believe any of it if he woke up, I had no idea.
Soon his belt was open, his flies were down and his grey, tight boxers were in front of me with the soft bulge of his cock and balls clearly visible. I started to pull his jeans down. He was a dead weight but suddenly he lifted his bum off the floor and they slid down effortlessly. He was still asleep, so I had no idea what he thought was going on in his fuddled head. I now had him with his jeans below his knees and his shorts in front of me. I unzipped my jeans and eased my hard cock out, stroking as I felt his bulge. I leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. My cock was leaking pre-cum quite copiously, so I tool some on my finger and traced the residue along his lips. He automatically, licked them. That really excited me.
I started to pull down his shorts until they joined his jeans at his knees and his balls lay before me, loose and hanging between his legs. His beautiful cock was uncut and pale with a red rose of foreskin at the top. The skin slid back and forth easily revealing a moist glans beneath. His pubic hair was a delightful bright orange red and they covered his balls too. I slid down and enveloped the soft cock with my mouth. The faint taste of his urine only excited me more and I rolled the soft flesh back and forth in my warm mouth. I alternated between sucking and gently stroking the foreskin with my thumb and forefinger when he exhaled suddenly in a large sigh. I stopped but he continued back into his sleep. His cock now had some blood in it and I could feel a slow swelling. Considering that getting to this point had taken over 20 minutes, the final stretch to full erection took under 4 minutes. I had a very stiff cock in my mouth which looked to be just over 6 inches in length and a little thicker than I would have expected. His breathing was slightly heavier but still steady, as though he was enjoying his “dream.” The erection gained in strength until his cock was rock hard and sticking upwards towards his navel. I needed his cock in me. I knew it was dangerous but I really needed this straight boy’s cock inside my hole.
I left him to snooze and went through to the bathroom was wash quickly. I stripped off my jeans and briefs and wrapped a towel around myself, picking up a tube of lubricant and a condom on my way back. He hadn’t moved, though his cock was down to a semi erect state. I moved back to sucking him and it rose much more quickly this time. I slid the condom over the head and his cock responded very favourably with the restriction of the latex over his cock. He had fucked before, probably some tart. I squirted the lubricant on my hole and fingered myself well. My own 6.5 inches was as stiff as a rod of iron. I lubed his cock and pulled my towel off, straddling his prone body. I slowly lowered by bottom down while holding his stiff cock in my left hand to guide it home. I knew I had to be slow and careful as he entered in case the stress on his cock head woke him.
That initial stretch as his wonderful heterosexual cock pushed past my sphincter, and eased its way into my anal passage was wonderful. I slowly lowered myself. It was actually quite painful as I had not taken the time to stretch myself but I didn’t care, I wanted to feel him in me. Soon his entire length was inside me and I started to raise myself up and down in the sitting position, my own cock being stroked in my right hand. I leaned forward and kissed him again. I straddled him for over thirty minutes until my legs ached and I knew I had to get relief before I exploded. I reluctantly slipped my bottom off and returned to his side. His cock was still a stiff as hell. He hadn’t lost any of his erection. I pulled off the condom and decided to try to wank him before actually cumming myself.
His cock responded well to my thumb and forefinger but I had no idea if a sleeping man could cum, and if he could, whether he would waken with the orgasm. I had decided not to try, just in case and was pondering this when a powerful jet of cum shot out of his cock without any pre-warning. The jet arched way above his head and landed on my carpet, and the second, with less force, landed on his chest. His breathing changed but he didn’t waken. I licked the cum off his chest as I stroked my cock. My own orgasm was severe enough to bring flashing lights to my eyes. It shot on his chest with the third squirt actually hitting his chin and lips. He licked the droplets before turning sideways and groaning.
The effect of having cum brought a wave of panic and guilt and the mopping up and subsequent redressing of him took much longer than I would have liked. I really didn’t want him staying so I checked his wallet and found where he stayed along with a photograph of an attractive young girl and a baby. Now I really DID feel guilty! I managed to waken him enough to get him on his feet, downstairs and to hail a taxi. I gave the driver the address and enough money for the fare and tip and waved him off.
It’s funny how the gentle burning sensation in my hole and the memory of the evening quickly faded the guilt and my cock quickly grew again, waiting for a more leisurely release.
The unwitting cross-dresser:
I told you at the beginning of this piece that I was a guy and very much a guy. At 22, I was slightly “soft” looking in demeanour but I wasn’t effeminate. I suppose if a girl took me home to mum and dad, they would suss me out in about 10 minutes but I wasn’t a raging fairy. Now you have that, I can continue with my second adventure.
The fancy dress party was hosted by the firm of accountants I worked for. It was a pre-Christmas bash, held in November because they were accountants and it was cheaper. There was no theme but having just seen Johnny Depp in “Pirates of the Caribbean part something or another” and having fallen hopelessly in love with him, I decided to be a pirate. I donned a felt hat, put a buckle in it, and borrowed a frilly shirt from a gay friend much older than I was, who still remembered wearing it when Adam and the Ants were popular. My pants were borrowed from a slightly plump female friend who had some baggy black trousers and also offered a short jacket that with some red stripes on it. Some shiny buckles on a pair of black trainers and I almost looked the part. I finished off with some pale make up, eye shadow (to look like Johnny) and a small, stick-on moustache. My sword was a plastic dagger in a belt sheath and that was it!!
The party was great fun as all parties with a free bar tend to be and the condition of both me and my costume deteriorated as the evening progressed. Sometime through the evening, my moustache disappeared, my hat went awol, and my dagger ended up in some trifle. It was a very tiddly, poor imitation of Mr Depp, who finally called it a day and headed home sometime after midnight. I was a little too embarrassed to go to the taxi rank and needed to clear my head so decided on walking the two miles or so home. The final mile or so, took me around the perimeter of a school playing field and my journey had been quite uneventful.
“Hi there gorgeous,” said the voice.
I turned to face a well built and quite attractive 35 year old, in much the same state alcoholically as I was. He was in a pair of tight jeans, and a white short sleeved shirt. He must have been cold on such a cool evening. I wasn’t sure if he was taking the piss or trying to pick me up.
“Hi to you,” I said, my voice a little higher than I expected.
“Boyfriend left you, then,” he said?
I looked at him quizzically then realised that in my current state, without all the trappings to make me a pirate, I could be a girl. I had girl’s baggy trousers which looked like a skirt, a girl’s jacket, buckled shoes, curly hair and make-up. I wasn’t sure I was a particularly attractive “girl” but then he was drunk. I perked up!
“Yes, he wasn’t up for fun tonight, the bastard,” I said, trying to raise the timber of my voice.
“Doesn’t know how to treat a girl,” he replied. “I know,” he continued, squeezing his crotch.
This looked interesting!
“Want to take a little walk in here,” he said pointing to a slit in the fencing heading into the bushes on the sports ground perimeter.
“If you like and promise to be gentle,” I replied.
“Darling, if I can get my rocks off, I’ll be just as gentle as you want,” he said.
This guy was well built, good looking and straight. Just my type, but I would have to be careful.
He was certainly quite drunk but drunk guys can get pretty angry if they think someone’s taking the piss, especially when they’re randy.
“Suck me sweetheart,” he said.
I pushed him against a tree and dropped to my knees, unzipping his tight jeans with one expert movement. I unclipped them and unbuckled the belt. I wanted to make sure he couldn’t run. I pulled his jeans and briefs down in one sharp tug and a thick semi hard cock flapped in my face. His dark hair covered his balls and he was uncut. The street lights gave me just enough light to enjoy the view. My mouth quickly enveloped his cock. It didn’t suddenly spring to full erection, in fact it took some sucking even to get it half hard though his groans would have suggested differently. It was a lovely cock, but then straight ones always are!
I licked his balls and then returned to his cock. He really started to grow now. This wasn’t a big cock in length but it was nice and slim. I pulled back the skin and licked around the head. He was groaning, his hands running through my hair, telling me what a horny bitch I was. He pushed his hand down the front of my frilly blouse and gripped my nipples. The way I was leaning at least there was a little to grip. The lack of breast didn’t seem to bother him, in fact he took that to be a sign that I was even younger than he thought and his cock jumped as he told me so. I was really worried he would try to finger me before I could suck him off.
Suddenly he lifted me under the arms and as I rose up he whispered, “Let me fuck you.”
“Whoops,” I thought, “this could be tricky.”
“In the arse,” I said, “I’ve never had it in the arse.”
“One hole’s as good as any,” he retorted and I lowered my elasticated trousers, ensuring he didn’t see my Calvin Klein boxers.
I quickly turned my cheeks to him, holding the pants up at the front. He was too far gone to care, but he spat on his fingers and worked them roughly into my hole. I fumbled in my pocket for my ever ready condom.
“Put this on,” I whispered, hoping that was little lubrication was on it might help his entry.
I had to rip the wrapper for him and he stretched it over his stiff cock. I bent over against a tree and raised my hole as I felt his head urgently press against my arse.
“Ow,” I said as his bulbous head pushed against my hole.
I spat on my hand and rubbed the head, holding his cock and steering it into me. That made it slightly easier and the head managed past my entrance. He was keen to get fucking but I was keen to keep my arse intact. He was thrusting like an impatient terrier, all the time whispering randy endearments to this young “girl” he thought he was getting cock up her arse for the first time. His hand wandered around to finger my vagina but I managed to grip and hold it as though trying to press against the pain of entry. He was kissing my neck and holding my shoulder with his left hand as his cock finally made it about 75% of the way in. He started to fuck.
Once he got going, he was like a wild animal. He kept calling me “his teenage slut,” which at least made a 22 year old feel good. His movement became more erratic as he seemed to reach climax until with one massive thrust, his entire cock slipped inside me and he emptied his balls. In typical macho style, he pulled his cock out, ripped of the condom, pulled up his pants as he started walking and mumbled a quick thank you as he left me, bent over, arse in the air, against a tree in the woods.
I bent down, dropped my pants fully, picked up his condom and emptied its contents over my hard cock before using his cum to lubricate a wonderful solo wank. My spunk shot about 5 feet across the ground as my knees buckled. I giggled as the thought “5 points for eroticism and 1 point for technique.”
“My wife doesn’t understand me.”
You have seen the drunk and incapable guy having sex without knowing, the even more inebriated guy who thinks he’s just shagged a girl but by far the most common, is the plain horny, straight guy who is not getting any and seeks any opportunity to get sex. Alcohol has the advantage of allowing guys to dip into their innermost mind and find thoughts that were just there for when they wanted to be really dirty, then and drag them to the forefront where suddenly they seem quite logical. Sometimes though, frustration can be as powerful an aphrodisiac as alcohol.
Early Sunday morning or late Saturday night, I waited then gave up waiting for a taxi home after a fun, but fruitless night at a local, well know gay watering hole. Just as I was walking away from the rank, a cab pulled up and the driver said, “You’re my last fare so where are you heading?”
I gave him my address and sat back.
“Were you in the Atlantis,” he asked, referring to the gay bar and club I had just left?
“Yes,” I replied.
“Busy,” he asked?
“Yes, but not busy enough,” I replied.
“I suppose you guys must get horny when you can’t get sex too,” he said and continued, “But you should try being dumped by your wife and left with a teenage son and daughter who take over your house, reject anyone you bring back and generally decide you’re going to become a monk.”
I looked at his back and side as he spoke. He was of Caribbean decent and seemed to be around 37 or so. His was well built, probably over 6 feet and has amazingly white teeth. He wore a white t-shirt and jeans and has a single gold earring.
“Haven’t had so much as a fuck in 6 months and that was interrupted by my daughter who told me how disgusting it was for people my age to be doing such things. The bird was a slag anyway but at least I got to cum in her before it came to an abrupt end,” he continued.
I found his conversation quite arousing.
“Bet it’s easier for you to find a bloke to shag,” he said.
“Well usually it’s the other way around,” I said.
“What, harder to find…..” he tailed off and then laughed, to continue with, “Oh sorry, I see what you mean, you like it up the back!”
He wasn’t stopping and I was curious as to where this was going. I only had another five minutes or so to see if he was chatting me up.
“Never been into bums, meself, or blokes for that matter, but I suppose they must be powerfully tight compared to cunt,” he said.
“Oh they are,” I said. “Guys like me can take a cock in them easier than woman can take it up the front and the added bonus is tightness. It’s like a velvet glove.”
I was getting horny. I was squeaky clean and had slipped one of these lubricating capsules in when in the bar toilets as I thought some guy was going to give me one but he went off and shagged an 18 year old in the cubicle leaving me hot, randy and moist.
“Listen man,” he said, “we had better change the subject ‘cos I’m like a loaded gun here and you might convert me.”
“Well I’m your man if you ever want converted,” I said.
“You got a few minutes to talk,” he said?
“Come in for a coffee or drink if you like,” I replied.
“Cool, but I haven’t much time,” he said.
Once inside and he had a cool beer in his hand he started to tell me how his wife had been having every guy in town and when he confronted her, she left taking most of his bank account and leaving the kids. Having the kids around had seriously restricted his sex life as they were always around or entertaining their friends. He hadn’t had sex for six months. I told him I couldn’t last six days without it and we laughed.
“What do you guys actually do,” he asked?
I said “It’s just the same as with a woman only we don’t have a cunt and our tits are smaller but we have a bit of extra meat to compensate.”
He laughed awkwardly, his white teeth glistening in the light. The air was hung with anticipation. I could see he wanted to experiment but was scared. I didn’t want to make a move in case it scared him but I also felt sure he wanted me to so that he would have to make a decision one way or the other. His cock didn’t look hard though it was clearly visible lying down his leg in his thin cotton trousers.
“Want to see what a boy’s pussy is like,” I said?
“You mean, like, drop your pants and show me?”
“Well you seemed curious to know how guys could take it up their arses and I thought you might like to see one,” I said.
“Sure, if you’re not embarrassed,” he replied.
I tried to pull my pants down and off, as sexily as I could. His eyes were fixed on me. I stood in my short sleeved shirt and white briefs. I quickly pulled off my socks. He watched and I saw his heel of his hand discretely nudge against a bulge in the front of his trousers. At that moment I realised it was going to happen. I slipped off my briefs and stood facing him, my erect cock sticking out from the front of my shirt.
“Nice,” he said.
I didn’t think straight guys would look at another guy’s cock and say “nice.”
Soon I was naked and standing in front of him by cock sticking straight out. He pulled me towards him and turned me around. His hands slid up my front and to my two little nipples which he tweaked and stroked. I thought, “Old habits die hard.”
His hand eventually slid down and back to my buttocks which he gently spread revealing my hole. He asked why it was wet and I had to explain it was lubrication. His finger slid inside me and gently pushed inside. He gasped as it entered so easily. I heard his zipper slide down. He sat on a low chair and I was standing in front of him, bending over, my hands on my knees to give his access to my bum hole.
“Let me suck you,” I said,
His finger slipped out and he pulled me around. He was sitting, still dressed, but his trouser front was open and a large cock stuck out of the top of some shorts. I knelt in front of him and eased his cock and balls out until his balls were exposed with the waist band of his shorts under them. I eased them down. He would only let me pull them so far, to his hips, but that was enough.
The cock in front of me was a man’s cock. By that I mean his balls were big, his cock was long and quite thick. He had been neatly circumcised and the head was larger than the cock size would suggest. It was a large brown mushroom. He had dark hair covering his balls and spreading up and around the base of his cock. I figured he had just under eight inches long, way bigger than mine. I enveloped it and he gasped as my warm mouth covered the head and then pushed down to almost take the whole length.
My mouth eased up and down, a gentle suction on each upwards stroke and the cock length firmly gripped in my hand with the other stroking his balls and a finger teasing under them as though trying to finger his arse.
“Oh my God, that is unbelievable. That cow never gave head and no one, but no one, has ever sucked me like that,” he groaned.
I managed to pull his trousers and shorts lower and really went to town. My own, unattended cock was stiff as hell and sticking upright between my kneeling legs.
“Stop for fucks sake, I want to cum in your arse, not your mouth,” he yelled, pulling his cock quickly out with a loud “plop.”
He stood up and I knelt on the floor with him behind me. I gave him a condom as there was no way I was going to be barebacked. I heard the wrapper rip open and the stretch of the latex over his cock and just waited. The head seemed enormous as it teased the entrance to my hole. He pushed. It sunk inside really easily and without any pain. As he started to stretch me, each plunge went just a little further into me. I felt his hand tentatively stretch around and very softly grip my cock. He stroked it very gently up and down as his cock started to really pick up speed inside my arse.
“This is so fucking wonderful,” he said, “and to think I have been wasting my cum up some slut’s cunt all these years.”
His dirty talk had me close to cumming. His wanking technique was not the best but what little movement he was doing was sufficient to bring me to the brink. I begged him to cum in me and he took both his hands to my hips. I quickly replaced his hand on my cock with my own, to try to coincide our orgasms.
“Oh shit, I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming up a queer’s arse,” he shouted!
He wasn’t the only one. My semen felt like boiling water churning from my balls, the full length of my cock and then exploding almost painfully out of the slit in the top to spray across my leather chair like some water cannon. His cock was a full eight inches embedded inside me and had stopped moving as I felt the veins on the side of it pumping as his cum fired into me filling the rubber wrapped around it. When he pulled out, the quantity in the rubber teat on the end was more than I had ever seen in a condom from one orgasm.
He stumbled to his feet, with his trousers wrapped around his ankles and surprised me by lifting me under the arms, to my feet, turning me and kissing me fully on the lips. His tongue entered my mouth and his lips covered mine. His hand went behind my head and he forced my mouth on to his.
“Please tell me I can do this again,” he begged.
You bet,” I said.
He did too and we had a frenetic three month love affair, meeting every week until one of his children saw us together one night and started to ask him some questions. It scared the living daylights out of him and I was dumped with one quick telephone call. C’est lá vie!
This initial story of a straight guy is a short and a quick one. It was a Saturday afternoon and I had been buying some new clothes. At the back of the city shopping centre was a park and, when the centre was built, the park toilets had been left, even though there were a number of shiny new ones in the shopping mall nearby. I liked the old 1960’s block as there was often a guy or two hanging about for a quick fumble. On this day, my luck was out and after waiting at the urinals for around fifteen minutes, I hauled myself into one of the three cubicles and dropped my pants for a quick wank. The door locks were long gone but a closed door usually meant someone was inside so I concentrated on working myself up to a nice orgasm.
I heard voices and hesitated but hearing a man and a child’s voice, I realised it was a father bringing his child in for a piss or more, so I continued, images of the assistant who had just sold me my new shirt swimming in my head. I was shocked to open my eyes and see a man of around 35 and a toddler, both standing at the door looking at me in horror. He had pushed the door, obviously wanting the young lad to pee in a toilet bowl, which was set lower than the adult size urinals in the main toilet.
I quickly closed the door. Listening, I heard the man take his child next door to the sound of “What was that man doing daddy?”
Thankfully toddlers piss quickly so the retreating steps left me relieved. I wasn’t sure who was more shocked, me, the kid or the kid’s father! I looked at my dwindling erection and decided that as I couldn’t leave too soon after them I might as well continue. I started to stroke and my cock began to return to original impressive erection.
Suddenly the door to the cubicle opened and there stood the father. I started to apologise, but he pushed in with me and closed the door behind him. His hand gripped my cock and his lips pressed against my lips. Now this wasn’t some ugly old man, this was the sort of hunk that you see in commercials for men’s toiletries. He was beautifully built, around 5 feet 8 inches tall, Levis, white t-shirt, leather jacket and a lovely well trimmed stubble. His tongue was in my mouth and he was behaving like a starving animal. His breathing was heavy and he was chewing my earlobes as his large hands gripped my cock, almost painfully. At one stage he dropped to his knees and I thought he was going to suck me but instead he looked at it and whispered, “Beautiful,” before kissing the sides and then the tip.
As he again stood up, he unclipped his jeans and they dropped. I regained control and pushed him against the back of the door, He stood with tight jersey boxers shorts, an erection plainly visible. I pulled them down and there it was! His cock was short, around 5 to 6 inches it stuck out and upwards from a mass of dark brown pubic hair which trailed up to his chest. His balls were tight to his body and of normal size but the real feature was the thickness. I was struggling to form an “O” around it with my thumb and middle finger. This was one bulky cock and I really would have loved him to fuck me. I pushed his shirt up and chewed his tits and he gasped. I then dropped and opened my mouth to envelop this thick piece of manhood. He was really gasping now and I pulled back his slippery foreskin and revealed the head beneath. Sucking, I took as much as I could in my mouth before sliding back up and down again.
All I heard was an “Ohh” before the warm splash hit the back of my throat and I had to start swallowing for my life. The torrent of cum seemed never ending but I managed not to lose one drop. My own cock was in my hand and I shot off all over his black shoes.
“Tristan’s getting bored Daddy, are you going to be long,” came a girl’s voice from the toilet entrance?
A slightly shaky daddy said, “I’m just coming darling!”
“I think you mean, you’ve just cum.” I whispered quietly.
He smiled as he wiped the cum off his shoes.
“If you want to do more, I’ll be here next week at the same time and we could go to my place,” I said hopefully.
He just smiled as he hurriedly dressed and opened the cubicle to leave with a quiet, “Thanks.”
I heard him walk, then stop. He returned and pushed the door gently and whispered, “Here same time tomorrow,” before walking out saying loudly, “I’m coming Karen.”
I was shaking with residual fear from the initial encounter and excitement from speed and intensity of the session. I shakily left and thought about his thick cock all the way home.
I was squeaky clean and excited as I walked through the park the next afternoon then immediately horrified to find the toilet closed. It was a drizzling Sunday afternoon and there was little shelter. I huddled under a tree as the only person in the park, and waited! The appointed meet was at 3.30pm but he wasn’t there. I was getting pretty damp and very miserable by 4.00pm and decided I had been dumped, or more likely his home arrangements had prevented him from getting out. As I left through the park gates a taxi drew up and I spotted him leaping from the door to shout. He hadn’t paid the driver as we stood and he told me he had very little time so I bundled him back into the cab and gave my home address.
“Ryan,” I said, holding out my hand.
“Damon,” he responded as he shook, his wedding ring seeming to glint even on this dull day.
I quietly thought, “You don’t get much straighter than this guy.”
It took but a few moments to get to my flat and we were inside as fast as I could drag him. He had already told me he had around one hour.
He told me he had been happily married for nine years and though he had sometimes looked at effeminate guys on television or in the street and wondered just what it would be like to do it, he had never acted on the impulse. The sight of my raging cock had been the catalyst and now he wanted more of me. The feeling was definitely mutual. I wanted this guy naked and was stripping him as we spoke. I made him stand while I drank in the view. He was Brad Pitt/Tom Cruise and any other good looking stud you could put into the mix. I stripped too and stood facing him, my slightly taller, paler, hairless skin and fair hair being in complete contrast to him.
He was on me again. His lips found mine and he started to kiss, the way men always do with women. His mouth covered mine completely and his tongue had a mind of its own. When it wasn’t trying to find my tonsils, it would slip out, lick my cheeks, lick my ears and then drop down to kiss my nipples. He had no fear of handling my cock, in fact I think he found this additional piece of equipment a great novelty as he handled and wanked all the time he kissed me. His own cock was a solid, heavy, thick piece of flesh pressing against my thigh and in that moment, I was so pleased that I was going to get to share it with his wife.
He dropped again to do what he had done the previous day, kiss the sides and the tip. I gently pushed as he did so and the head slipped in. He jolted back, looked up at me and then, as though making a split second decision, wrapped his mouth around it and started sucking like a hungry baby. He wasn’t a born sucker but realising this was his first cock, I didn’t give a shit! He started to lick again and was all over my balls, even licking my pubic hair. I sat on the edge of the bed with my legs open and him between them and he started a journey that I hoped would end at my arse. His tongue traced between my legs so I opened further and lifted myself up slightly. He waited, tentatively and then started to lick around my rosebud before eventually sticking his tongue all the way inside. My cock was so hard it was throbbing to the beat of my heart. This guy was all man. He was doing what he probably did normally and took control, and I loved it. He was feeding on a newly found lust and using my body and it was really fabulous.
“Would you fuck me,” I asked?
“What do I do,” he said innocently?
I stood up and squirted some lubricant on my hands, easing it between my cheeks. I lubricated well and then asked him to take over. I was bent over on all fours at the end of the bed and he was lubricating my arse. He took over 15 minutes before he asked what to do next. I handed him a condom. It took a few moments to stretch it properly over the width of his cock. He lubed his cock and took up position at my back. I love being fucked doggy fashion. I always feel that with the doggy position, you know you are being fucked in the arse.
“Take it easy in the early stages,” I begged him.
He was very gentle which was as well as my hole was having real trouble extending to accommodate this flesh coloured cucumber. There was no way it was not going in though and his patience was rewarded when he finally said, “I’m there!”
He started a slow and stead fucking. One hand was on my hips while the other reached around and gripped my cock.
“I love the feel of your cock in my hand,” he said.
“I’m quite partial to yours up my hole,” said I.
He laughed and started to really fuck me. Doggy fashion went by the board as he pulled me on my side and then lifted a leg over his shoulder. I had a feeling this was a “fucking the wife” position but said nothing as he really seemed to like it.
The fucking speed was faster than I was used to and my hand drifted around to feel his thick tube of meat slide in and out of me. His little grunts of effort each time he hammered home, really go me going and it was great to have my cock handled as he did it.
“This isn’t going to last long Ryan,” he said.
“Then cum on my face,” I said.
“Your face,” he said incredulously?
God bless him, he obviously hadn’t been surfing the net much.
“Yes my face,” I cried.
He hammered my arse, his grunts becoming faster and faster then he pulled out and whipped off the condom. I scooted under him so that he was astride my chest and I gripped my own cock.
“Oh my God,” he howled!
I saw the wonderful white jet leave his cock split and arc towards me. I closed my eyes in part but kept them half open. There is nothing more wonderful than seeing warm, wet, fresh, and heterosexual cum heading in the direction of your own face. I opened my mouth too and waited to receive my gift and was not disappointed. It splatted, it splashed and it sprayed over my face, neck and thankfully, mouth.
“I’m cumming too,” I shouted!
“On my face then,” he said and we quickly reversed positions. He just made it as I returned the compliment and basted him in cum. He too, took some in his mouth and the slight gagging suggested he wasn’t at all sure whether he liked it or not. As I slumped, he sat up and kissed me again, our sloppy faces and mouths mingling with the sperm coating both of us.
“Awesome,” he said, “really awesome.”
We met regularly after that. I was determined to keep the arrangement as fun and sex only and at no time allowed it to interfere with his home life. He told me that his sex life with his wife had taken on new meaning and far from our relationship jeopardising it, he felt it enhanced it. That suited me as I had no wish for baggage.
That’s about it. It does prove that there are gay men, bisexual men and straight men but also somewhere out there, are straight but curious men and that is my target.
Wish me luck!
Saturday, 10 October 2009
(drunk, chloroform, seduce, nc, MM)
My friend John has always turned me on. He's a cop and a total stud. When he isn't working he's either at the gym or surfing. He's got blond hair and a killer tan from all his time in the sun. He's just under 6' and has a pretty hard body. The night I got him he had come over right after his shift, still in uniform. He had brought along a change of clothes, and after showering and changing we went to a hockey game and then out to shoot pool and darts.
We had a few beers at the hockey game and when we got to the pool hall John was a little tipsy. I decided to take advantage of the situation so I kept feeding him drinks. John rarely drinks because he's an athlete and always working out, so by the time we left the pool hall he was hammered. I don't think he had any idea how much he had been drinking because I had been getting the drinks from the bar and was putting extra alcohol into his from a flask I was carrying. He was so drunk that he didn't even catch on when I started to feel him up in the car.
I leaned his seat back and ran my hand softly up and down his crotch, squeezing every now and then. He moaned like a horny schoolgirl. My roommate Greg was spending the night at his girlfriend's apartment and I suggested to John that he spend the night on my couch. He nodded drunkenly. When we got back to my place he couldn't even walk straight. For some reason he thought it was funny and couldn't stop laughing. I tried to shush him as I helped him through the front door, my hands roaming all over his ass. I let him slip down to the floor once we were inside. He started to crawl through the hall on his hands and knees until he caught sight of himself in the hallway mirror. He pointed to his reflection and started laugh again. I grabbed the chloroform and a rag from my room and when I came back John was sitting on his haunches talking to himself in the mirror and doing some lame DeNiro imitation.
I soaked the cloth and set it down on the floor next to him. I started to unbutton his shirt. I pulled it from his pants and reached in to unbuckle his belt when he pushed my hands away and told me in a very drunken voice that he could undress himself. He was still laughing. I helped him to his feet and encouraged him to continue. I hummed a few bars of an old burlesque song to get him going. Soon my drunk friend was stripping off his clothes like an amateur stripper with me egging him on all the way. After tossing his shirt to me he peeled his t-shirt off and swung it around, laughing, before throwing it across the room.
He was unsteady on his feet and leaned up against the wall while taking off his belt. Finally he was down to his pants! I had never seen John's underwear before and was completely surprised to find him wearing tight white boxerbriefs! Since he was into surfing I had assumed he wore boxers, but shit! This was going to be great! I only wish I had my video camera running.
John had his khakis around his knees and was trying unsuccessfully to steady himself while stripping them off. Every time he lifted his one leg he would nearly topple over. He finally pitched forward onto his hands and knees, pants now around his ankles. He was laughing and trying to sing the tune I had been humming earlier.
I picked up the rag and knowing that he was so fucked up he'd never remember anything, clamped it over his nose and mouth. I saw his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were open wide, trying to figure out what was happening to him, his hands flailing, trying to tear mine away. I held him close to me and could feel him struggle for about 20 seconds. Then was out cold.
I grabbed him by his shoulders and dragged his limp body, pants still at his ankles, to my bedroom and hoisted him onto my bed. I mounted the video camera on its tripod and took his pants off the rest of the way, along with his socks. I sat down next to him and lightly ran my hand over his bulge. I couldn't believe my luck. Here I was with Mr. Macho Cop, Straight Surfer Stud, unconscious and in his underwear.
Then an idea hit me. John always looked so hot in his uniform. I had to get some pictures of him in it, and some of me stripping him out of it! I took his uniform from the closet where he had hung it up earlier and started to put it on him. While I was pulling up his pants he began to come to. I grabbed the rag, re-saturated it with the chloroform and put it over his face. He was out again almost immediately.
I got several pictures of him in his cop uniform and being stripped out of it. When I had him down to his underwear again I took more pictures of him. Some with his hands all over me and some of just him in various positions and poses. I was so turned on I had to change my briefs twice that night.
I laid him out flat once more on the bed and snapped another picture of him. His boxerbriefs were tented and bulging. I pulled his hard dick through the fly, put his hand around it, and took more pictures. Then I slid his shorts down his thighs. His thick, fat dick stood up like a tent pole but soon started to go soft. I grasped it gently between my thumb and forefinger and ever so slowly jerked it, rubbing the pad of my thumb over the tip, until it went hard again. I fondled his balls with my other hand. I slipped my mouth over his rigid cock and began bobbing up and down. Slowly at first, and then more quickly. I felt his balls constrict and another moan escaped his lips. Just as I felt him ready to shoot his load I pulled my mouth off and pulled his underwear up, my hand still inside jerking his throbbing cock. His hot, sticky cum filled his boxerbriefs. I got the rest of his clothes back on and laid him out on the couch. The load of cum in his boxerbriefs soon soaked through his tan khaki pants, creating a huge wet and sticky spot on his crotch. I smiled and covered him with a blanket.
I had to knock out John out three times that night so I could do everything I wanted, but it was worth it! And I got it on video, along with plenty of stills. I especially like the pictures I got of him in his uniform with his fly open. I love seeing a guy with his fly open. I posted some of the pictures I took of John to a web site specializing in cops in their underwear.
The next morning John was sicker than a dog. He assumed it was the alcohol and vowed over and over that he was never going to drink again. I chuckled at him and pointed to the stain on his crotch. He quickly pulled his shirt out of his pants to cover it up, embarrassed.
It felt great getting John like that and I was glad that I got pictures. I'd never have that kind of an opportunity with him again!
(drunk, chloroform, seduce,nc, MM)
It had been easy enough to get the chloroform. It was a fluke, really. I have a neighbor who teaches high school English and awhile back when his car was in the shop for a few days I offered to drop him off and pick him up from work for a few days. One day when I came to pick him up he was helping a student with a report and asked me if I wouldn't mind waiting. I wandered down the hallway until I came to a biology lab. The door was open so I walked in. One of the walls housed a set of cabinets filled with bottles and flasks of all sorts. I took a closer look. There were three bottles of chloroform in one of the cabinets. I remembered back to my high school days when my lab partner in biology class almost passed out from accidentally inhaling chloroform. Taking a quick look around to see if anyone was watching, I tested the cabinet door. It was unlocked! I grabbed all the bottles of chloroform and stuffed them into my gym bag.
That night I poured a little chloroform onto a wash cloth and held it to my nose. I inhaled deeply and immediately coughed. It gave off a sickly sweet, overpowering scent that burned my nostrils. I moved the cloth a couple of inches from my face and took another breath. Slower this time. That was better. No burning. I took another breath and then another. Nice and slow. I felt my head dip a little. I put the cloth over my nose and mouth. I found I was able to take deeper breaths now. I lay back on my bed and began to inhale more deeply. My head began to feel light and I heard a rushing sound in my ears like ocean surf. I could feel my heart beating loudly like a drum. My vision dimmed and I was out.
For the next few nights I continued to knock myself out, but that wasn't enough. I desperately wanted to try it out on another person. Of course, I wasn't about to go out and chloroform people at random. Then it hit me. Maybe I could use it on my roommate. I could sneak into his room at night and knock him out while he was sleeping.
My roommate Greg is a really great guy. Okay, sometimes. Sometimes he's a real pain in the ass. But we get along for the most part. He's 6' and weighs about 170 or so. He works out a few nights a week and usually walks around the house without a shirt. His chest is pretty buffed and tan and I joke with him that he should do commercials for the gym he belongs to. Sometimes in the evening he just walks around in his boxers. He's also very easy on the eyes. Always smiling, the life of every party. He works for what he calls a "slave driver" in the accounting department of a large law firm and frequently comes home pulling his hair out.
One Friday night Greg came home stressed out. He had had the week from hell so I asked him if he wanted to go out and have a few drinks. I knew he could drink me under the table any day of the week, but I also knew he was a heavy sleeper and if he was just a little drunk when he went to bed maybe he wouldn't wake up while I was trying to knock him out.
We hooked up with a couple of Greg's friends at the pool hall that night and I told Greg that I'd drive so he could let loose if he wanted to. He didn't disappoint. He was pretty ripped when we got home, and needed help to make it to his room. I helped him get his shoes off and was starting to unbutton his shirt for him when he hauled off and slugged me. He said that only fags undressed other guys and that I'd better not be "no fuckin' fairy." He managed to get his shirt and pants off before he crawled into his bed and passed out. In all the time I've known Greg I've never tried anything with him when he was drunk or passed out, but tonight was going to change all that.
I waited for almost an hour before I made my move. I wanted to give him time to fall into a deep sleep. I opened his door a crack and peered in. The light from the hall fell across his bed, and there was Greg, lying on his side, snoring lightly. I crept into his room and knelt beside the head of his bed. I poured some chloroform onto a cloth and held it to his nose. He jerked a bit when he caught the first whiff so I moved the cloth back a few inches. Every time he took a breath I moved the cloth a little closer, letting more and more of the drug get into his system, gradually dulling him. I did this for almost 5 minutes, replenishing the chloroform whenever it evaporated. Finally I couldn't wait any longer. I was sure Greg was pretty out of it by now. I wet the cloth once more and folded a dry section over it. Taking a deep breath I put the cloth completely over his mouth and nose. His eyes slid open slowly and I gasped. They were glazed over and were rolling upward. He moved his hand to the cloth but was too weak to do anything. I held both his hands with my one hand and pressed the cloth firmly down over his face with the other. Within seconds his eyes slid shut. I held the cloth for a few more seconds just to be sure and then released it.
I lifted his eyelid and watched as his eyeball rolled back. His breathing was slow and even. He was out cold. I felt my dick lurch and I adjusted myself. I pulled back his covers. He was wearing blue and white striped boxer shorts. Calvin Klein. I lifted him up and over my shoulder. He was heavy. Pure dead weight. I took him to my room and laid him on my bed. I had hooked some restraints to the bedposts earlier and now I fastened them to Greg's wrists. I carefully removed his boxers. His cock, about 6 inches soft, rested against his leg. Even though he was out for the count, I still didn't dare touch it. I pulled out a pair of brand new white briefs from my drawer. They were my favorite kind, white full-cut J.C. Penney Staffords. In my opinion the softest, best fitting briefs on the market. I slipped them onto Greg, rubbing and caressing his tight body every inch of the way.
Wow! He looked so hot lying there in white briefs! I grabbed my digital camera and began taking pictures. Then I spread his legs and kneeled between them. I ran my hands lightly up and down his legs, from his ankles to his thighs and to his bulge.
I couldn't believe it! I had my hunky, straight as they come, boxers-only roommate, out like a light and tied spread-eagled to my bed in tighty whities! I snapped more pictures and was about to get a little playful when he slowly opened his eyes and began to moan. I started to panic. Shit!! I'd left the chloroform in his room! I sprinted out and grabbed both the bottle of chloroform and the discarded cloth, wetting it on my way back.
Greg was still moaning and was now struggling slightly against his bonds. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. I clamped the cloth over his face and waited. Almost immediately his eyes closed. He was out again.
I traced his softening cock with my fingers and continued to knead and nudge it until it was hard again. Then I ran my hand down between his legs and pushed softly, through the briefs, between his butt cheeks. I slipped my finger under the cotton fabric and worked it around his tight hole. I looked up at his still sleeping face. No change. He must've been under too deep to react.
I untied him and then stripped out of my clothes and down to my underwear. I mounted my camera on a tripod and took a few pictures of me with Greg. I posed him in a number of positions, both alone and with me. These were going to be great pictures. I was so hot and hard that I almost shot my load while holding Greg's soft face so close to my hard dick during one shot. I got more with him leaning against my shoulder, his hands on my crotch.
I carried him back to his room and laid him back on his bed. I stripped off the briefs and pulled his boxers back on, but just up to his hips. I looked at him and a devilish thought crossed my mind. I was still a little pissed at his faggot remarks and decided to get a little revenge.
When I was a junior high school I had some buddies come over while my parents were out of town. One of the guys' older brothers bought us a case of beer and we proceeded to get trashed. One of the guys, Kevin, passed and another guy, Jay, filled a bowl with warm water and dipped Kevin's hand in it. In a few minutes a dark spot appeared on the crotch of Kevin's jeans and began to slowly spread. We all cracked up. I took my polaroid camera and snapped a couple of pictures of Kevin in his pissed pants. Then Jay had another idea. He unbuttoned and unzipped Kevin's pants and pulled them down to his hips. Kevin was wearing white Fruit of the Loom briefs but they were now stained yellow with his piss. We all laughed more and I took a couple more pictures. The next morning Kevin was so embarrassed he almost cried.
Now looking down at Greg I had the same idea. I pulled his boxer shorts back up and went to get the warm water. I softly stroked his stomach, chest and nipples while his hand rested in the bowl. Within a few minutes I could see the light blue stripes on his boxers turn dark blue with piss. Because he had drunk so much beer, his urine was dark yellow. The spot spread and soon the sheets all around the middle of his body were soaked with his piss. I dried off his hand, thought better of it, stuck it down his wet boxers instead, and pulled his blankets up.
I didn't sleep well that night... a combination of the thrill and the nervousness I felt. I was hoping that Greg wouldn't suspect anything or remember anything from the few seconds he came to.
The next morning while I was eating breakfast I heard his shower. A few minutes later I heard him open his bedroom door and I turned to greet him. His was rubbing his eyes as he walked. He was wearing a pair of Notre Dame boxers. It was now or never. Greg wasn't afraid of confrontation, and if he had any suspicions at all about last night, well, I was in for it! But he didn't say a word. He only complained of a slight headache and blamed that on the drinking he did the night before. He made no mention of his "accident" but then I didn't think he would. He also didn't seem to remember anything about the comments he made and I chalked them all up to his being drunk. I looked at him and started to go hard thinking that just a few hours ago I was fondling and photographing this hot stud and I couldn't wait to do it again!
Actually, I didn't wait much longer. I chloroformed Greg again that night. He had gone out drinking with some buddies and had a few more beers when he got home. After I knocked him out I set up the video camera and got some footage of me stripping him out of his boxers and into white briefs. Then I gave his hard body a tongue bath. I was still a little mad about his faggot comments from the night before, so after I put his boxers back on I slowly rubbed him through the flannel material until he came in his shorts. I was so hard by then that I began to jerk myself and unloaded my jizz all over his already soiled boxers. I put his hand in some warm water and when he had finished wetting himself, I pulled out my dick and started pissing all over him and the area immediately surrounding him. When I was done I rolled him onto his stomach. The wet spot was huge and I had to laugh watching my roommate asleep in cum and piss stained boxers.
Sunday morning Greg got up early to do laundry. He left the house shortly afterward and returned a couple of hours later with a new mattress. He made some lame excuse that his old mattress was getting worn out. He had wrapped the old mattress in the plastic from his new mattress, but I could smell a faint scent of urine mixed with Lysol. I didn't let on that I smelled anything. He grabbed the old mattress and his keys, told me he was running to the dump, and left. I waited until I saw his truck drive away and then went into his room. I checked out the new mattress and was surprised to find a plastic liner under the sheets!
Of course Greg has no idea that I know, nor does he have any clue that every time he comes home drunk he ends up getting the sweet side of the cloth. I've got several nice pictures and videos, too. This boy has become quite a celebrity on the internet. I've posted several pictures to an internet web site featuring drunk or sleeping guys in white briefs and have got quite a bit of good feedback. Of course, I'm always careful not to show his face, using either a blindfold or a mask.