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I'm Not Gay!!

By: shyman03



Shyguy05: so what are you doing in this chat room?

Rico82: probably the same thing you are, haha!

Shyguy05: you live at Tinkons Barracks?

Rico82: ya, u?

Shyguy05: yup.

Rico82: you should cum over soon!

Shyguy05: well, I'm not gay. I'm just bored and surfing the chat rooms.

Rico82: ya, that's cool, you should cum by anyways. We can watch TV together and see what happens. 

Shyguy05: I'll think about it.

Shyguy05 has logged off.

"Damn!" I thought to myself. "Here's my chance." I had been looking at gay porn on my computer and chatting with gay guys for awhile now since it had been a long time since I was lucky enough to be fucking any girls. I'm always horny and when the pussy isn't there for me, I start lookin for something else. I don't consider myself gay, or bisexual. I just really like having sex. I'm not attracted to guys, I just don't mind if one of them is willing to help me release my load!

"Fuck it!" I tell myself and log back into the chat room.

Shyguy05: I'll be over in a few minutes. 

Rico82: I'll be waiting! Room 312

"No turning back now." I said aloud as I pulled on some basketball shorts. No boxers, just shorts. And a tank top. I leave my room and examine the hall and thank god it's empty. I swore that I had FAGGOT written across my forehead. Thankfully RICO82 lived just across the quad, in the adjacent barracks. I haul ass down the stairs and jog across the grass. It's late. About 1:30 in the morning. There shouldn't be too many people still awake. I quietly step through the front doors of the barracks and immediately head up to the third floor.

His door is cracked open and I can hear the TV. I look around to make sure nobody is going to jump out and proclaim me a queer. 

"This is it." I say, under my breath, and knock lightly on the door. After what seemed like an eternity, RICO82 opened the door. My first impression was that he didn't intimidate me at all and it would be easy to feel comfortable around him. As I assumed by his name, he was Hispanic, shorter than me, heavier. He was wearing just shorts. 

I greet him with a quick hi and quickly shuffle through the door. His room was very clean and it smelled good. I had to laugh on the inside. Gay guys are really clean. He invites me to relax on his bed. I quickly lie on my stomach with my head at the end of the bed and act as if I'm interested in the show that's on the TV. He sits back on his bed the opposite way so his feet are by my head. 

After a little bit of small talk, I'm feeling comfortable enough to start rubbing his hairy leg. Just slow strokes up and down, meant to be reciprocated. He gets the hint and starts rubbing my calves. I'm ok with this so I play it up a lil bit and start moaning and wriggling around. He continues rubbing my legs and I can feel his hands creep up the back of my legs towards my ass. His hands go under my shorts and touch the bottom of my virgin ass. Like a switch had been flicked, my cock twitched and came to life. 

"Are you ok?" He asks as he runs his fingers across my ass cheeks. 

"Mmmhmmm" Is all I can get out as I bury my face in the bed. His touch is so amazing and every second that passes, my cock gets harder. I start to accommodate his access to my ass by pushing my hips off the bed. I look back and he gives me an innocent smile. I notice that he too is getting excited. I see the form of his cock in his shorts and I'm actually happy. He puts his hands on my hips and pushes me so I'm basically on all fours with my ass in the air. 

He slowly starts to pull my shorts over my ass. Not fast, as he is teasing me and planting kisses on my bare ass as my shorts come down. I actually feel a drop of precum drip from my raging cock. Finally, my bare ass is in full view and he is exploring with his hands and lips. That is when I feel his wet tongue on my asshole! The most amazing feeling ever! I squirm and jolt my body back into his face, which adds to the pleasure I'm feeling at this moment. An unimaginable feeling rushes over my body. 

It's too much and I flip myself over onto my back and look at him in lust. He has a hurt, confused look on his face at first, but then we make eye contact and he knows! I'm ready! He smiles and lowers his face till he is between my legs. I can't believe this is happening. I could care less if my commander walked in at that moment. I was in heaven! I feel wet kisses on my inner thighs and his warm breath on my balls. He has yet to touch my cock which feels like another, larger cock is trying to rip through it. 

And then the moment I've jerked off to for the last few months arrives. I feel his soft lips on the base of my cock. He is making out with my shaft, kissing from the base to just below the head. With my eyes closed, I try to take in this moment that I've waited for so long. He then does something I never thought I would experience in real life. His mouth comes up my cock and takes in the purple mushroom and proceeds to inhale my entire cock. I instinctively grab his face and begin to thrust like a mad man. He doesn't miss a step. Lost in the moment and forgetting about enjoying and trying to remember every detail, I fuck his face like it was my first piece of pussy I ever had.

That's when the explosion took place. I felt as if I was going to black out. I can't tell you how much cum I shot because I was seriously dazed and confused. I lost track of time and didn't know where I was until I was finally finished and he moved up the bed and kissed me on the lips. I could taste my cum on his lips and this snapped me out of my trance. It was sticky, thick and salty. 

I kinda freaked out on him, remembering that I was 'straight'; I jumped up and threw my shorts on. He just sat there on the bed watching me act like a fool. It was as if he knew something I didn't. After dressing, I walk out of his room without looking at him or saying a word. I sprint all the way across the quad and up the four flights of stairs to my room. Once inside, I throw my clothes on the floor and jump in the shower. After about thirty minutes of scrubbing my body with soap, I get out and dry off. Back in my room, I go over to my desk to turn the computer off before I finally go to bed. Before I power the computer down, I notice an IM from RICO82.

RICO82: see ya soon!!!

I knew he was right!

I'm Not Gay



I'm not gay.

Now, if you had seen me last night about this time, you might doubt this. I was on my knees with a rather large, and very hard, cock deep in my mouth. I was sucking on it and sliding it in and out of my mouth, with one hand wrapped around the base and the other cupping the hairy ball sack.

"Okay," I can imagine you saying. "I can believe that you're not gay if you were being forced somehow. Maybe the guy was holding a gun to your head or something. Or maybe he was blackmailing you, or you'd lost a bet or something." 

But that's not it. I was sucking this cock not only willingly, but eagerly. Indeed, I'd spent some considerable effort to get that cock between my lips and I enjoyed every second that I got to suck on it. And, my enjoyment built to a crescendo as the guy built to an orgasm. What I enjoyed most-what caused in me a sort of mental orgasm-was when I felt that hard cock explode in my mouth, covering my tongue with its salty, slimy treat.

"Okay. That's it," you say. "You're gay!"

But that just shows how little you know. If I were gay, I'd be attracted to men. But I'm not. Not in the least. I suppose I'd want to go out with men, to embrace them. I don't. If I were gay, I'd want to kiss men. The very thought turns my stomach. What I'm attracted to-what I crave-is cocks. I love them: long or short, fat or skinny, veined or smooth, hard or soft, black, brown, red, white or yellow.

Okay, I know what you want to say: "Cocks are attached to men." Very perceptive of you! I know that of course. So, I'll do what I have to with the men, to get what I really want. I've gone out on dates with men; I've embraced men; and I've even kissed them. I didn't find any of these things in the least pleasant in itself. Oh, I'll admit that my heart sometimes pounded with excitement. But it was only the excitement of the thought that I was getting close to getting what I really wanted.

And, yes, I'll admit that I've had more than a few cocks up my ass. But that, too, was just to get what I wanted. I don't mean that it hurt that much or that I actually hated it. Sometimes it kind of felt good. But I only did that if the guy pressured me and it looked as if I wasn't going to keep getting what I wanted if I didn't put out the way he wanted me to.

That hardly ever happens anymore because I seldom hang around for second or third dates with a guy. If I can get all the cock I want with anonymous, one-night-stands, I can avoid not only having to get to know the guy who's attached to the cock, I can usually avoid getting fucked in the ass. But, again, it's not that I mind getting fucked in the ass so much. I'd rather just suck. If I'm on a one-night-stand, then if I'm going to get all the cum I can from the cock, doing the anal thing, too, means that I usually wind up sucking on a cock that tastes of latex, or worse. I'm too much of a connoisseur to enjoy that.

And I am sort of a connoisseur of cock. Some people think it's all about size and they mean by that: "the bigger, the better." But they couldn't be more wrong. Oh, it's true alright that a huge cock is a huge turn on. Believe me, I've had some enormous ones, and I know. I've had some so fat I could barely stretch my lips around them. I've had some so long that even with both hands wrapped around the shaft like I was holding a baseball bat I still couldn't fit the rest in my mouth. Fat cocks, long cocks...they're fantastic. But only a rank amateur or someone completely devoid of taste in cocks would think that size means quality.

In fact, I've never sucked a dick that I didn't find something to like about. I've had straight ones and curved ones, fat ones and skinny ones, veined ones and smooth ones. I've sucked off cut cocks and uncut ones, black ones, yellow ones, brown ones and white ones. I've sucked off young cocks that were as hard as iron and primed to explode at the least provocation. And I've sucked off old guys who never really got hard. (It's actually quite a turn on for me to be able to milk a cock of its cum even when the guy can't get hard.) It doesn't matter. They're all good. Actually, they're all great.

I said that I'd worked hard for the cock I was getting last night. Really it's more conniving and scheming than real work. But it takes time and some sensitivity. Like I said, I like one-night-stands best. That means I'm always looking for new cock. Maybe you think that most guys are so horny that a guy like me (are there other guys like me?) should have no trouble finding a willing partner-as long as I'm not looking for reciprocation.

Well, if that's what you're thinking, you're wrong. I'm never looking for reciprocation. Sure, sometimes a guy has wanted to return the favor and sometimes I've let it happen. But usually that's just because I think it will lead to me getting another load of his cum. If I'm certain he's shot his last wad for the night, I'd really rather just go home and beat off while I recall the feel and taste of his cock in my mouth. I can really do that. I mean, I can recall the feel and taste so vividly that it's as if he's still in my mouth while I'm stroking my cock. It's very exciting.

Anyway, even though I'm not looking for reciprocation, I have to go to some lengths to get guys. You can't just hang a sign around your neck saying, "I love to suck cocks." For some reason that I don't understand, that turns a lot of guys off, and it can get you beaten up. And lots of guys who wouldn't be up for it if they knew from the outset that's what you were after, can be brought round to it if they're handled right.

The trick is to find the right door. That means just talking with them like a regular guy-not setting off anyone's "gaydar". I'm not gay, of course, but there a lot of guys who get confused about these things. So, I talk with them about the things people talk about when they just meet at a bar or diner. I never come on to them until I find the door.

Here's how it went last night. I went to a bar that was way on the other side of town. I'd never been to it before but I knew enough to know that it wasn't a gay bar or singles bar. I hate going to gay bars. It's not that I have anything against sucking a gay guy's cock. But most gay guys want to do things like kiss or hug. Or they're into B&D or leather. Those aren't my scenes. Some of them are swishy and like to act fem. I try not to pay much attention to the person who's attached to the cock I'm getting at, but the fem stuff is a turn off for me. Singles bars are usually too noisy and the people are so obviously looking for something that I just don't like the vibes.

I like neighborhood bars, and that's what I was at last night. There were about 20 people in the bar, mostly men. Most of them were splitting their attention between watching ESPN and bantering with the bartender or other people at the bar. Several of the men there looked like good prospects. I've already told you I'm not particularly picky-though I do sometimes get a hankering for a certain type. But mainly, I think of a good prospect as one I'm likely to be successful with.

And, though I've sometimes done more than one guy at a time, I really try to avoid that. Sometimes it leads to ass-fucking as the one who's not in my mouth gets overly eager for some satisfaction. And, even when that doesn't happen, the interpersonal dynamics are usually wrong. The guys are too into proving to each other that they aren't gay. So, they get on power trips, holding my head and fucking my mouth like I'm a passive object or calling me demeaning names. I like being in control and I don't like being abused. I'm convinced that the very same guy who would be abusive and controlling if he were playing to one of his buddies, is happy to let me take charge and incredibly grateful for my oral ministrations when it's just the two of us.

So, I look for someone who looks as if he's there alone. Of the likely prospects I scoped out last night, one was on the barstool right next to me. It turned out to be easy to strike up a conversation with him.

Ned looks to be about thirty-five, but turns out to be over forty. He has some boring job in a small company, has been married but divorced about five years ago, and now has a girl friend with whom things are just so-so. As it turns out, it is this last factor that provides the door. I suspect that right away, but it takes a little while for me to confirm it and even more for me to open that door.

I tell him a lot of stuff about me, almost all of it false. In a way, my lies are like those that millions of people tell prospective pick-ups; in a way, they're very different. It wasn't like I was lying to impress him-no, "I drive a Porsche" or "I'm Chief Legal Counsel of a major company" type lies. But, then, those sorts of lies aren't the ones that further my ends. I tell a different kind of convenient lie. I tell him I'm married. I'm not, but I always wear a wedding band. It puts the "gaydar" way down. And, after he brings up his girlfriend, I tell him a little about my (nonexistent) wife. The main bit of information I want to convey-though it takes a long time for me to steer the conversation to the point where I can say this in a natural way-is that she's really great in the sex department, even though we've been married for 15 years.

I tell him the old joke about the difference between a bride and a Hoover vacuum cleaner-after 10 years, the Hoover still sucks! I'm sure he's heard it, but it gets the topic of oral sex on the table. I tell him that I married one of those rare Hoover wives. And, he reveals that the only thing he misses about his ex-wife, is her blowjobs. His current girlfriend isn't into that.

BINGO!

Now he starts to open up. He doesn't want to sound like a loser, so he quickly adds that he has a good sex life and his girlfriend does suck him sometimes, but only until he starts to get aroused and then she plays like she has to have him in her cunt soooo much-she just can't wait another second. At first he was flattered. She was practically begging to be fucked. But now he sees it as just a ploy to avoid sucking him all the way off. He doesn't say it in those words, but that's the way he thinks about it. I can read between the lines. This guy's yearning for a real blow job. Well, I think I can take care of that.

But I know I can't just blurt out, "I'll suck you off!" I have to bide me time and figure out when's the best moment to try to go through the door he opened up just a crack.

We talk for a while and I find out that Ned's not living with his girlfriend. In fact, she's out of town for the weekend. He lives just around the corner-another reason for me to go to neighborhood bars. Now I just have to find a way to get myself invited over to his house-or a plausible excuse to invite myself.

This takes a bit of listening. Sometimes, in similar situations before, I've never found that excuse. Sometimes, desperate at the prospect of losing a target, I've resorted to simply leaving the bar when my prospect does, and offering to suck them off in my car. I don't like to make the offer so crudely and I don't like doing it in the car, but sometimes the offer works and sucking a cock in the car is better than not getting any cock at all.

As we talk, I learn that Ned's into cars and still has an old Mustang-1968 convertible-that he bought used almost 20 years ago. He's in the process of restoring it and I can tell he's proud of it. Now, I don't give a shit about cars. But, if feigning interest in cars gets me what I want, I'm good with that. I tell him that I used to own a 67 Mustang but an old girlfriend wrapped it around a telephone pole. I let him think I know a fair amount about cars in general and Mustangs in particular-though I'm at the very edge of my knowledge and worried that at any second I could say something that would lead to a raised eyebrow and general skepticism about me and my motives.

But the conversation goes pretty well and finally I decide to pop the question. "I'd love to see your Mustang" I say. (God, if only he'd hot-rodded his Mustang, I could have said, "I'd love to see your rod," and spoken God's honest truth.)

I can see the instant I finish the sentence that it's going to work. He wants to show off his Mustang. So, we leave the bar and walk about a block to his house. As we go through the kitchen toward the garage, I ask if he has any whiskey or anything. I tell him I'm full of beer but I could use another drink. Actually, I don't need anything more to drink-well, not anything more before I get his cock in my mouth-but I figure he'll have one, too, and it can't hurt to get him a little more loosened up before I make my move.

He has some really fine single-malt Scotch, as it turns out, so I'm happy I asked. We drink a bit on the way to the garage. I appropriately "Oooohhh" and "Aaahhh" when he opens the door and turns on the light. We walk around it and I let him take his time showing me every detail: what he's done; what still needs to be done. I don't care about all of this, of course, but I want him to drink a bit more.

He's not getting drunk, but I can tell that the alcohol has had something of an effect on him and I decide to go for it.

"You know, about five or six years ago, my wife and I split for about six months. I got involved with a woman and I was having the exact same problem you are with your girlfriend," I venture. "She was really pretty and we had sex a lot, but she wasn't into oral sex-giving it, I mean." I let it sit there to gauge his reaction. It's a noncommittal grunt, but with an upward inflection that says, "go on."

"Yeah, so it got really frustrating for me. At first, it just sort of nagged at me. But I started to feel really deprived and I began to be fixated on getting a blow job." I pause for just a beat or two, "Ya know what I mean?"

Now I get more than a noncommittal grunt. He knows exactly what I mean.

"So, then something really weird happened." I take another drink. "And I did something I'd never done in my life." Now a dramatic pause. He's hanging on my words.

"In fact, I've never even told another sole about this. Guess it doesn't matter if I tell you. It's not like we know each other or you'll ever see me again." I take another drink and don't go on yet. It's good to let the thought that he'll never see me again sink in and I know he'll wait as long as it takes for me to go on. He'll prompt me if he has to. He's hooked.

"So, what'd ya do?"

I suck down a little bit more of my Scotch. I want Ned to wait. "I met this guy-didn't really know him-but we got to talking and I got real comfortable with him. After a while, I told him about my deprivation. He listened sympathetically and ..." Time for another drag on my Scotch. It's a great prop for teasing him with my story. He doesn't say anything, though. He just waits for me to go on.

"And, he said...and I couldn't believe that I'd heard him right...he said, 'I'll give you a blow job!'"

Ned looks at me really strange for a split second. I don't let him think too long.

"So, when I was sure that I hadn't misheard him, I tried to sort of laugh it off as if it was a joke. But he just kept looking at me and I realize that he's serious." Ned looks away. But it's not because he's not interested.

"So, whadya do?"

"I said, 'What the hell? Why not?' and got the best blowjob of my life."

That gave Ned pause; I think he was pretty ambivalent about the story. He offered, "Gays make me feel uncomfortable. I never know whether they're interested in me sexually."

"Yeah," I say. "I know what you mean. I'm the same way. But this guy was so not gay. He was married and seemed as straight as your or me." Another drink. "Later he told me that he'd never done that but he'd thought about it sometimes and figured, why not then, with a guy he didn't know and didn't have to worry about running into later."

"Hmmm. Well, I guess," Ned mumbled and it was his turn to take a drink-mainly to avoid saying anything.

"So," I offer tentatively, "what do you think?"

"What do I think about what?" He's playing dumb but I don't blame him. The embarrassment of being wrong by thinking that I'm offering to suck him off is much worse than the embarrassment of being thought slow to pick up on an offer.

"I'll suck you off if you want."

"You're kidding!"

"No. You know, ever since he did that for me. There have been times-late at night if I can't sleep or in a random moment-when I've wondered myself what it would be like." I finish my Scotch. "I've never even touched a man before." (Wow! Now there's the biggest lie of the night-maybe of the century.) "But, I'm interested in trying it."

Okay, now that takes the burden off of him. All he has to do is be willing to let me suck his cock. And it's not as if I'm some sort of cock-hungry gay guy. I'm just a regular guy who is doing a little experimenting. Nothing threatening there.

"So, is it okay with you?" I ask.

"I guess." He stammers a little. "Where?"

"Here's fine I guess." I've never given a guy a blowjob in a garage. And I've given lots of blow jobs. I put my jacket on the floor to cushion my knees and kneel down slowly in front of him.

One of the good things about doing this under the pretense of "never having done anything like this before" is that I have to go slowly and tentatively. I have to act like it really is my very first time, at least until I get into it. And that heightens the excitement.

He stand a little too far from me and so I pull him closer. I reach up tentatively toward his fly and unzip him. My hands are shaking a little bit. He doesn't know it's from excitement, not fear.

The guy has on whitey-tighties under his slacks so I don't have to fake awkwardness at getting his cock out. I really have to fumble a little to get at it. He's not hard yet, not even beginning to get hard. Some guys get hard at the mere thought of a blow job. Maybe Ned would if it were a woman doing it. Of course, if a woman were doing it, there would probably be some foreplay like kissing and petting. I hate that shit and, anyway, I don't mind putting a soft cock in my mouth and making it swell up like a balloon. "Don't mind!?!?!?!" Hell, I love it!

Ned's dick isn't that big. But you can never really tell when they're soft. Some big dicks when they're soft wind up no bigger than small dicks when both get hard. Black guys especially often have much larger soft cocks even when they don't have gigantic hard dicks.

I look at Ned's dick in my hand, trying to seem a bit tentative and reluctant even though I'm feeling ravenous. I bring my lips to it as if gingerly and gently put my tongue out to touch its tip. I touch it twice, pulling my tongue in after each contact. Then, I slide my tongue under the cockhead to caress the most sensitive spot. As my tongue slides along the underside of Ned's cock, I feel his shaft begin to harden and I can hear him moan. I know there's no turning back for Ned now. He wouldn't care if I were gay, or a Martian. He wants my lips wrapped around his cock and he wouldn't stop me no matter what until he's shot his load.

Still, I take it kind of slowly. I don't have to for his sake, but I like teasing myself and him a little, too. I pull back a bit. Maybe he thinks I'm changing my mind. That's okay. If he does, he'll be that much more grateful when I take him into my mouth. I reach into his pants and pull his balls out. It's difficult with his jockey underpants, but when I get them out, it's worth it. His balls aren't too hairy, but they've got some nice fuzz on them. They're nice sized with some weight to them. I think about all the sperm cells that he's been making there that will soon be mixed with his semen and shot into my mouth. Strange things go through my head sometimes. I think about an individual sperm cell that is soon to be shot the length of his cock, right into the back of my mouth and swallowed down my throat into my eager stomach. I'm thinking this weird thought as I fondle his balls in one hand, gently rolling them between my thumb and fingers. I'm really looking forward to this. This guy's going to bust a nut big time, and I'm going to reap the rewards.




I'm Not Gay



As my fingers move to touch the sensitive skin behind his ball sack, I touch my lips to the tip of Ned's cock. I slide my lips over his cockhead as I fondle his perineum. I feel that familiar, incredibly exciting feeling of a rapidly hardening cock sliding into my mouth, filling my mouth wonderfully.

In just a few strokes, Ned is completely hard. He has a nice size cock. It's smooth and with a well-defined helmet. I like this kind of cock a lot. Well, I like all kinds of cocks a lot. But right now, this is the kind of cock I love the best-a cock that's filling my mouth.

I try to maintain the ruse that this is the first time I've done this. It's not as if Ned would stop me now. But I don't want to weird him out because I'm hoping for seconds after he's had a little time to recuperate. So, while I go at him pretty relentlessly, I try to repress my desire to moan with pleasure. But I'm feeling that pleasure. There's nothing like the feeling of a hard cock sliding past your lips, filling your mouth, pounding against your throat.

Ned wasn't trying to repress his moaning-or, if he was, he wasn't succeeding. I heard him moan with pleasure. I sort of liked this. Like I've said, I didn't really care much about the men attached to the cocks I was sucking. So, it wasn't really that I liked to give these guys pleasure. But the moan was a sign that I was doing the cock right. It sort of made me feel powerful. It's interesting that I've never felt more powerful than when I was on my knees with a hard cock in my mouth.

I was getting Ned near an orgasm and I wasn't ready for it yet. I wasn't certain that I was going to get a repeat performance tonight and I didn't want the night's sucking to be over yet. So, I pulled off his cock, making it look like I needed a break. Whatever muscles you need to develop in order to be able to suck cocks for a long time, I'd long since developed, but a first-timer could be forgiven for not being able to go too long without a short break. I knew that the break came at a bad time for Ned, but he couldn't really complain.

"Sorry," I said matter-of-factly. "My jaw is hurting." He muttered that it was okay, but I knew he was just being polite.

After he'd come down a bit, I pressed on and was rewarded by a long moan as Ned's cock again felt the warm wetness of my mouth. I started working him in earnest now. I had one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing him tightly and pumping up and down. My other hand was gently cupping his fuzzy balls. And, my lips were rhythmically sliding up and down his slick shaft. He was getting back up to a climax.

And, then, before I expected it, Ned roared and I felt the first spurt of cum hit the back of my throat. This was the climax. Not just for Ned. For me, too. You might not understand that. You might be trapped in the simplistic thought that, for a guy, a climax is when you cum-when you shoot your seed. Well, yeah, that's a climax. But it's a climax because it is the sudden release of sexual tension and energy accompanied by a flood of euphoria. I had all of that when Ned shot his load in my mouth. I didn't shoot my wad. That's not what sucking cock is about for me. Cocks aren't some masturbatory device. They are to be savored and enjoyed for themselves. As my mouth's ministrations bring a cock to the peak of sexual tension, my body is just as charged as when I'm on that path myself. And, when my lips and tongue finally coax a cock into sperm-spewing spasms, I feel an enormous relief and I'm aglow with pleasure.

I'm also swallowing spurt after spurt of hot, slick, salty cum. The feel of it hitting the back of my throat and the exquisite taste of it makes me start to moan in pleasure. Fortunately, I catch myself and I hope that Ned thinks it's a groan of surprise.

"Sorry," Ned says, misunderstanding my reaction, just as I'd hoped.

"That's okay," I mutter back. "It just sort of took me by surprise."

"Take a drink of your Scotch," he says helpfully. "That should help."

Well, it wouldn't help at all. It would just wash down the taste that I was now savoring in my mouth. But I grabbed the glass and pretended to take a sip. Even that diminished my enjoyment a little. The smell filled my nose and decreased my enjoyment of the salty reward I'd coxed from Ned's cock.

Ned backed away and tucked his cock back in his pants. "That was incredible...Thanks."

"Umm. Yeah. Sure." I got up and picked up my jacket. "I always wondered what it had felt like to the guy who did me."

"Well, what did it feel like?"

"Okay, I guess." There was another big lie for the night. It had been great. I've already said that I never met (or sucked) a cock I didn't like something about. But this was certainly one of the better experiences. (Though I wondered how much of that feeling was just based on the fact that it was the most recent. I had to confess that practically every time I finished sucking off a cock, I was convinced that it was one of the best cocks I'd ever had the pleasure of doing. Maybe I wasn't the best objective judge when I was still aglow with the taste of some guy's cum in my mouth. But, really, who cares about objective judging. This is all about subjective feeling. And, right now, I felt as if Ned's cock was one of the best I'd ever sucked off.)

Ned started putting away his cock. "Well, I guess I should ..." then he didn't know how to finish. What he wanted to do was to get me out of there. He'd gotten his rocks off-and how-so now he wanted me gone. Some guys felt ashamed; some just felt awkward. I didn't know what Ned was feeling but I wasn't ready to be put out so soon. I still had my mind set on another go with his cock.

Before he could find a way to say, "I blew my load in your mouth, now get out of here," I asked if I could have another glass of Scotch. How could he refuse? He was thinking, "this poor slob sucked me off and now he needs to wash the taste out of his mouth." Of course, the poor slob was only willing to replace the taste of cum in his mouth with Scotch for the promise of more of the cum. But Ned grunted 'yes' and we went in to the house to repour our glasses.

With my glass refilled, I settled down comfortably and talked about whatever I could think of that had nothing to do with what happened. What I had to do now was to get his mind off of what we'd done and get him just feeling comfortable with me again.

It really didn't take too long. We were both a bit tipsy and the additional drink relaxed us even more. We talked for about 45 minutes about women, work, and sports. (I was definitely at my limit there. My main sport is sucking cock and I couldn't really talk about that.)

Ned was the one that brought the conversation back to the recent blowjob. It was when we were almost finished with the Scotch. Maybe enough time had passed that he was interested in a replay, too. Fine! That would make my work easier.

"So, really, you'd never done that before?"

"Are you kidding? Of course not!" I can lie pretty convincingly whether I'm sober or dunk. He didn't say anything so I went on. "It wasn't as bad as I'd expected." (If that could mean that it was even better than I'd expected, then this was true.) "I don't think I did a very good job. I was kind of nervous and, of course, it was my first time."

"Well, then, you've got beginners' luck," Ned responded, "because it felt terrific! I've never felt anything better than that." He paused. I imagined that he was recapturing the feeling. "It's been so long since I've had a real blow job. I guess that one's going to have to last me for a while."

Okay, he was asking now. Shit, this was going to be easier than I thought.

"Well, don't get used to it, because it's not like it's going to be a regular thing." There, let him hang on that for a moment before I dangle the bait I know he'll take. "But I'd do it again, now...one last time. Then, I'm out of here and we never see each other again."

How could he say 'no'? He couldn't! At least he didn't.

"Really?"

"Sure."

I got up, walked over to him and knelt down in front of him. He wasn't going to stop me. It was all my show now. I pulled down his zipper and reached in through his fly to get his cock out. It was soft now, but still had some body to it. I pulled it out and let it lay on his lap for a while. Now I could take my time. I watched it lying there, sometimes twitching slightly in anticipation of my lips surrounding it. Well, I felt some twitching in my mouth, too. I knew what he was feeling; but he didn't have any idea what I was feeling. I brushed my hand lightly over his cock, flipping it up so the sensitive underside was exposed. It twitched again. Then I ran my thumb, ever so gently, from the base of his cock up to the tip, lingering over the most sensitive part just below the helmet.

Ned's cock was twitching and hardening quickly. I loved this. The sense of power was palpable. My touch was transforming this cock from a small, flaccid flap of flesh to a hot, hard rod. The transformation was almost complete as I brought my tongue to the base of his cock and used the tip of my tongue to retrace the line my thumb had just traveled. When my tongue toyed with that most sensitive spot, Ned's cock jumped. I held it gently against his body, immobilizing it so that I could play my tongue over that spot as long as I wanted to tease him.

The sound of moaning and the feel of Ned's hands on the side of my head, urging my lips onto his cock, gave evidence of the effect I was having. This cock was yearning for the feel of my lips surrounding it, my mouth enveloping it in its wet warmth. I was in control. I controlled whether and when this cock would get what it wanted so much. Fortunately for Ned, I didn't plan to leave his cock unsatisfied-that would leave me without my satisfaction, too. And I had no intention of leaving unsatisfied.

I let his cock rise from his stomach and took him gently in my mouth. We both moaned in unison. Ned was so wrapped up in his reactions that I figured he wasn't paying much attention to mine. But it didn't matter now what he thought of me anyway. He certainly wasn't going to stop me now and, when I was done, I was going to walk out the door and never see him again. I would have lots of cocks in my mouth in the future, but I'd never hold this cock between my lips again. And I intended to enjoy it now as much as possible, without holding anything back for appearances.

Ned's cock was hard and hot, and very much in need of my mouth. I wasn't going to deny him. I took him between my lips while I gently fondled his balls in my hand. These fuzzy wonders had already given up a load of sperm to me, but I was planning on coaxing another load from them. And I had a plan to get every bit that I could.

I was enjoying the feeling of Ned's hard, hot, smooth cock sliding between my lips. But I could tell that he was getting close to an orgasm and I had plans that had to be carried out, so I backed away from him and told him to stand up. He sighed in frustration, but didn't waste any time arguing. He got up and stood in front of the chair.

From this position, I could undo his pants and push them down so I could have really good access to him. I pushed them all the way off because I wanted to spread his legs, too. Ned would cooperate, even help, with whatever I wanted if I just stopped sucking him while I tried to do it. Anything to get my mouth back on his cock so he could shoot his load in me.

I had Ned just as I wanted him. Standing, naked from the waist down, with his cock hard and jutting out from his body, silently begging me to finish him off. And now I was ready to do just that. I was pumping his cock into my mouth with one hand and massaging his balls with the other. As I felt him getting closer, I moved my hand from his tightening ball sack and got my finger slick with the saliva and pre-cum that coated his cock.

I have no idea whether Ned knew what was coming. But I was planning on getting every drop of his cum before I left tonight. When my fingers were slick and slippery and Ned was nearing his orgasm, I slid my hand back to press my finger against his asshole. He kind of whimpered a protest and tried to move his ass away from my finger. But he couldn't move too far without taking his cock out of my mouth, and he wasn't about to do that. So, my finger slipped into his ass and I got it in far enough to feel his prostate.

At this point, timing is crucial. And I'm an expert at timing this. Just as Ned was on the verge of exploding, I thrust my finger hard into his ass and pressed down on his prostate. His first blast of semen was supercharged. Ned almost screamed out as he blasted the back of my mouth with his salty treat. But I wasn't paying much attention to him. I was focused on the treat. And man was I getting it. The second blast felt as big as the first and, all in all, I got about five strong jets of cum. It was enough for a very satisfying swallow and to still have my mouth filled. I was having my cum and eating it, too. Could life get better than this?

When the faucet filling my mouth finally went dry, I pulled away and savored the taste and texture of the cum I'd coaxed from Ned's cock. Cum really does taste different-not just from cock to cock, but from time to time from the same cock, depending on what the guy's been eating or drinking. I felt as if I could taste the Scotch in this load, but that could have just been the aftertaste from the Scotch I'd been drinking. In any case, the overwhelming taste was that distinctive, delicious taste of cum. I savored it, rolling it back and forth over my tongue to experience it for a long, luscious moment. Finally, I swallowed, enjoying the feeling of the slick slime running down my throat.

Ned fell back into the chair. He was spent and his knees practically collapsed under him. I think if he'd been more conscious and not so wrapped up in his post-orgasmic ecstasy, he would have asked me if I wanted another drink. But he was almost unconscious. It didn't matter to me. I didn't want a drink of anything that I hadn't just had. I left Ned in his chair and let myself out of the house. I walked back to the bar and got in my car to drive home. All the way, I was replaying the images, the feelings and the tastes from tonight. It was a great night. When I got home, I would masturbate while replaying these feelings one more time. I'd think through the seduction of Ned and the two great sucks I'd managed to get. As I worked through the events up to Ned's last blast into my mouth, I'd hit my own climax. I always captured my cum to eat that, too. It wasn't as exciting as getting it right from some strange cock, but there was no sense letting perfectly good cum go to waste.

Tomorrow it would be another cock that would make my day. But today, it was all about the one I'd just had.

So, that's what you would have seen if you'd seen my entire night last night. You may still think I'm gay. If so, you're stupid. I'm not attracted to members of my own sex; I'm attracted to my own sex's members.

I'm not gay.



I'm Not Gay



In every movie, television show, or celebrity biography, you experience this obsessive compulsion with getting out of your hometown. Everyone claims that they are escaping a town where nothing happens. They are onto bigger and better things. For me, it was less of an escape from Brawnee Falls as it was an escape from the people. One person, in particular. None of the people that I went to high school with were particularly pleasant, but he was the worst. It wasn't that he was a horrible person at all. I just had to escape the all-consuming need for him, for his love. I had a crush on Bryson Ganton for what seemed like his whole life. When I think about it, it sickens me because I couldn't have been more cliché if I tried. He was my older brother's straight friend. Unlike the cliché, Bryson did, in fact, know that I existed. I even got to hang out with them on occasion. That only fueled the fire. One time, in particular, it was just Bryson and I hanging out after Dane, my older brother, bailed to go on a date. 

"Alright. Bye, Bry. See you later?" I cursed myself for the disappointment and desperation that crept into my voice at the idea of him leaving. 

"Where am I going? Do you have somewhere to be too? I was kind of hoping to hang out." said Bryson while leaning over to grab his soda off the table. 

I was shocked. I figured that he only tolerated my presence because of my brother. I'm four years younger than them and the idea that he would ever want to hang out with me alone was preposterous. I spluttered an acceptance of his offer to hang out and plopped back down in my seat. For the next twenty minutes we sat in silence while he watched some TV show and I sat there nervously trying to think of something cool to say to my crush. I was having a little conversation with myself in my head.

Say something, anything. How about "What's up?" That's nice and neutral. Should I add a "man" to make it sound less suspicious? "What's up, man?" That sounds good. Wait though, that's more of a greeting and we've been hanging out for an hour. Maybe I should just-oh shit...

Some time during my private conversation, Bryson had taken his shirt off and I hadn't noticed until I had looked over at him in the middle of my thoughts. By the way Bryson was looking at me, he was clearly expecting something from me.

"What?" I asked.

"You just said 'Oh shit' and I asked what was up." Bryson said with a puzzled look on his face. 

Oh fuck, I said it out loud. Think of something. 

After staring at him blank-faced for a full ten seconds, I said, "Oh shit, it's hot. Good idea with the shirt thing. It's getting pretty warm in here." Did that sound heterosexual? Oh fuck, who knows anymore?

"Yeah, you're hot? Why don't you take off your shirt too? It's just us here anyway." said Bryson with all the confidence of a guy that looked like a Greek god with his shirt off. I could find not argument against taking my shirt off other than that I was insecure, but I was not going to admit that to Bryson. I slipped off my shirt and turned away from Bryson and back towards the TV. I'd always been small for my age. I was 16 at the time and I was 5'8'' and a scrawny 130 pounds. I had brown curly hair that I kept cut just above my ears. I had green eyes and pale skin. I had inherited everything physical from my mother, while Dane had gotten his looks from our father. I was ashamed to be shirtless next to Bryson. At the thought of him, I tilted my head slightly towards him to get a better look. At 20 years old, Bryson was a fine example of a man. He had dirty blonde hair that was cropped close to his head. He was tall at 6'3'' and built very wide and strong. He was perfect. Speaking of perfect, that day was perfect. I spent the day trying not to drool too much over Bryson. We watched TV, joked, and just talked about random topics until it got so late that we both fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up in the morning, a blanket covered me and Bryson was gone. I know it was stupid, but I couldn't help feeling like a one-night stand had just abandoned me. 

From that point on, I distanced myself from Bryon. I was sick of the puppy love. I was sick of the obsession and the heartbreak. I just wanted to be normal. I had long since accepted that I was gay. By normal, I meant I wanted to be unaffected by love. I see now that there is no such thing. Being unaffected by love isn't normal. Years came and went and soon it was the day of my graduation. I looked out into the crowd and I saw my mom, my dad, Dane, and Bryson. I was ecstatic that Bryson was there. Even though I had spent upwards of two years trying to get over him, he still meant a lot to me. Then my eyes shifted to Bryson's left and I almost blacked out. He was holding hands with a beautiful girl that was practically hanging off of him. He had brought his girlfriend to my graduation. I was even more heartbroken than I thought possible. I had never felt sadder or more ridiculous in my life. He wasn't mine. He had the right to bring whoever he pleased to wherever he pleased. 

After that, I moved onto college and I came back to Brawnee Falls as little as possible. My mom forced me back for the holidays, but other than that I camped out at school. I had some not so serious relationships in college once I was able to really be myself. I came out to my family during my sophomore year of college and they were upset, but eventually got used to the idea. I'm fortunate to have a loving and accepting family. I moved to Chicago after my college graduation and began working as a PR executive. I'm still there now and I'm happy with my life. I have a nice, if not a little small, apartment. I have a dog and great friends. I go on dates...well so far, I've only gone on two dates in the past two years, but I'm just really busy with work. As I said, I have a happy life...that I left to come back to Brawnee Falls. You see, Dane is getting married and I had to come back for the wedding. I'm not the best man. I mean, I can't really blame him. I haven't seen much of my family since I moved to Chicago. I didn't ask who was the best man because I didn't want to seem jealous or petty. 

I pulled up in the driveway of my old house and I just sat there for a while looking at it. I haven't been there in so long it seems almost like I'm visiting a place from a distant dream. I had lived there for 18 years, but I hadn't been back there eight years and it felt like too much to just jump back in right now. I took a deep breath and built up the courage to just go knock on the door. While I was waiting for someone to answer the door, I dropped my car keys and kneeled down to pick them up. I heard the door open and then I heard a deep voice say, "Well Noah, you've definitely gotten shorter since I last saw you."

Damn, Bryson stood there looking just as sexy as he did eight years ago. In fact, he looked sexier now that he was older. I stared at him for a few seconds before I realized that I was basically kneeling in front of him with my face at crotch level. I gulped and stood to my full height, which didn't seem like much next to this giant. I had forgotten how big he was. I finally regained my composure and said, "Hello Bryson. It's nice to see you. You're doing well?"

Suddenly I felt myself being pulled into a warm, hard chest and I heard the words rumble out of his chest as he said, "So formal, Noah. We used to be friends. The least a guy should get is a hug." I thought about what he said and really couldn't believe he called us friends. It should be unacceptable for a man of 26 to get butterflies in his stomach at the mere mention of friendship, but for some reason it meant something to me that he thought we used to be friends. 

"What are you doing here?" The question slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. 

"Um...I'm Dane's best man. I thought he told you." He looked almost guilty as if he was making a confession. I guess I should have guessed that Bryson would be Dane's best man, but I spent so much time avoiding the thought of Bryson that I suppose it came naturally. 

"Oh that's cool! Are my parents around?" Before I even finished asking the question, I heard voices coming into the living room from the kitchen. My mom was the first to enter the living room and her face lit up when she saw me. She ran over to me and gave me a huge that lasted for a solid 15 minutes. When she pulled away, I was struck again by how much I looked like her. The same slight figure, wavy brown hair, and green eyes. I had truly missed her. And from the tears running down her face, I can tell she missed me too. It made me guilty for how long I had stayed away. I exchanged polite greetings and handshakes with my dad and brother. We all settled down then to a pleasant lunch. After that, I went up to my old room to finish unpacking. I started thinking of old memories in this old house as I put my clothes away. I was knee-deep in memories when I heard a knock on the doorframe. I turned around and saw Bryson leaning against the doorframe. It seemed like he'd been there for a while. 

"Bryson!...I mean, hey what's up?" I stumbled out. It was really irritating that I was still responding to him in this way. The breathless way I had said his name at first should be enough of a tip off to him that I was still longing for him like a foolish schoolgirl. 

He didn't seem to notice and, instead, just said, "Hey, Dane and I were going to go down by the fire pit and drink a little bit. Why don't you come down? We haven't seen you in a while. We miss you out here. Let's catch up a bit." He smiled afterwards and I couldn't help but wonder if he, in particular, missed me or if he was referring to everyone. I nodded, grabbed a sweatshirt, and followed him down to the fire pit in our backyard. I sat there and stared into the fire as I listened to Dane and Bryson argue about the local football team and whether they were going to make it to playoffs or not. I zoned out and focused my attention on the flame. I guess I stared at the flame for longer than I thought because, when I looked up, it was just Bryson and I at the fire pit. I looked over at Bryson and he was staring at me. My eyes connected with his and, suddenly, I was feeling heat that wasn't coming from the fire. I could feel my cock start to stir and I flushed from embarrassment and the heat of his gaze. I looked away to prevent myself any more shame. 

I stood up and made to move past Bryson while saying, "Goodnight, Bryson. That was fun." As I walked by him, Bryson snagged my wrist and I came to a stop. I looked over at him, confused by his intentions. He stood up and moved in front of me. My heart was racing and I didn't know why. He stood there and just looked at me for what felt like forever. He still held my hand. He wasn't holding it very tightly or stroking it. He was just holding it loosely in his large hand. 

Finally, he opened his mouth and said, "Why'd you leave, Noah?"

"What are you talking about? I went to college. You know that." I was being snappy because I had been shocked by the question. Why does he care why I left? 

"Fine. Why did you stay away then? Why didn't you come home? To your family? To me?" The last part of was mumbled quietly, but I managed to make it out. I was shocked. I wasn't sure how many drinks Bryson and Dane had drank, so I didn't know whether this was just crazy drunk talk. 

"Ok big guy. I'm not sure how drunk you are, but there's no need to get sentimental." I laughed it off, hoping that Bryson would follow my lead. I moved again to walk by him and he stopped me again. Only this time, it was with a gentle hand on my cheek. I snapped my eyes to his face and could tell his eyes were focused on my lips. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, so I knew that he was at least a little bit drunk. I consider myself a relatively smart individual, so I didn't know why I didn't break the contact and move away. I just stayed there, looking into his eyes until the tension was just too much and I heard myself let out a little whimper. That seemed to be too much for Bryson because I felt his lips against mine. God, it was so much better than any of my fantasies. His lips were soft. He tasted like beer, but it didn't bother me. It was a sweet, gentle, and short kiss. He pulled back and looked me in the eyes again. Inside I was a swirling mass of emotions, but the most prominent one was happiness. My high school crush had just given me the most intimate kiss I'd ever had. This had to mean something. I was feeling on top of the world. 

Until Bryson dropped his hand, looked away from me, and whispered, "Please don't tell anyone that happened. I'm not gay."

My heart dropped and I walked back to my room without looking back. I felt numb. I lay in my bed for hours before the tears claimed me. I was so foolish. I resolved that night to never let anything like that happen again. I was going to avoid Bryson Ganton as if my life depended on it.



I'm Not Gay



As you can guess from my screen name, I usually post in the Fetish section. This is a somewhat auto-biographical fantasy and my first submission to the Gay Male category, so please be gentle!

-- Peebudy

***********************************

I'm not gay.

But my brother is.

Danny is 7 years older than me and we've always been polar opposites.

He's the oldest, I'm the youngest. He's into art and music, I'm into sports and women. He's tall and thin, I'm shorter and pudgy. 

But the biggest difference between us, and the one that always pissed me off the most, was that he is very well endowed, and I have a smaller than average cock.

Danny and I shared a room growing up in our parent's small house, so there were several opportunities to see each other, as he liked to sleep in the buff. His cock was long and thick, and even soft, hung down way past his balls. I had always hoped that mine would grow as big as his when I hit puberty, but alas, it never did.

I think this is where my fascination with large cocks stems from. Classic penis envy.

Like I said, I'm not gay, but every time I watch porn (which is a lot!) I find myself as enthralled with the size of the actor's cocks, as I am watching the actresses lick, suck and take them in every one of their holes.

The differences between my brother and I continued through our adulthood as well.

He went to college for photography, I went to engineering school. He never settled down with one partner, I got married shortly after college and recently celebrated my 10th anniversary. He lives in a downtown flat, I live out in the suburbs.

But we're family, and we love each other. And even though he's my big brother, I've been the one looking out for him and protecting him over the years.

You see, my brother is promiscuous, and he has a bit of a drinking problem, and often times finds himself in touchy situations. He's not an alcoholic, it's just that if he has a one too many drinks, he gets mouthy, and if he has three too many drinks, he just blacks out.

I can't count the number of times I've gotten a call in the middle of the night to come rescue him from some abusive dude's apartment, or retrieve him from one of the downtown gay bars. It's gotten so I'm on a first name basis with many of the managers of those establishments.

This story is about one of those nights.

Even after 10 years of marriage and two kids, my wife is still as sexy and attentive as when we were dating. I guess one benefit of not having six-pack abs or a horse cock is that you base your relationships on more substantial qualities, like love, shared values and commitment.

Like me, Cindy carries a little extra weight, but she's got beautiful curves, striking green eyes, auburn hair and an infectious smile. And she's very open-minded, both in and out of the bedroom. Over the years we've experimented with most sexual acts, positions, role play and toys, and she's always been an eager participant, looking to give as much pleasure as she receives.

On this night, she was kneeling on the floor in front of the couch between my outstretched legs, expertly using her mouth and tongue on my 5 and a half inch erection, while our favorite porn flick played on our 50" flat screen TV. The kids were off at sleep-away camp, so we had the house to ourselves.

I was alternating between watching my cock disappear between her plump ruby lips, and watching Jenna Jameson working her skills on some dude with a cock easily 12 inches long and four inches across. Admiring the purple head and the thick veins that ran down his shaft, I was secretly wishing I possessed such a tool to stretch Cindy's lips wide, and to reach depths of her pussy that have never been introduced to the pleasure of well endowed cock. 

RIIIIING....RIIIING.

Just as I and the dude in the movie were about to cum, my cell phone started to ring. Looking at the clock it was 1:45am, and I knew that there could only be one reason for a call at this hour of the night, so I slid out from under Cindy and went and begrudgingly answered the call.

"Hello?...Don't worry about it...Is he okay?...I'll be right down...Thanks for calling...Bye."

That's what Cindy heard on my side of the call, and she knew that our play-time was over for the night.

The phone call was from Sid, the manager from The Hub, one of the downtown gay bars. Danny had gotten into a screaming match with his boyfriend on the dance floor, and then proceeded drink himself into oblivion after his beau left in a huff. It was my duty now to go and retrieve him.

It was a 20 minute ride to get downtown from my place, and since the bars close at 2:00am, I just threw on my pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and headed out the door.

I pulled up in front of The Hub, Sid stood out front, having a smoke with of the bouncers.

Sid was an extremely sharp dresser, and I always admired the way his tailored suits fit his athletic frame. He was about 6 foot tall and in terrific shape. I guessed he was in his late 40s, about 10 years older than me, based on his striking white hair that was always impeccably groomed.

I guessed the other guy to be a bouncer, as he was clearly a half a foot taller than Sid, wearing tailored black pants and a tight black t-shirt that accentuated the fact that his muscles had muscles. And he was black as the clear night sky! At 5-foot-9, I felt small like a child as I approached the two men.

"He's sleeping it off in the back in my office," Sid said to me, as the bouncer gave me the once over, my flannel PJs and flip-flops definitely not what would be considered homo-chic!

Sid and I had been through this drill quite a few times with my brother, so it was old hat by now. Danny was a great customer, and his well known for his photography within the gay community, so Sid put up with his crap, and kind of watched out for him too.

The house lights were up and the bar was mostly empty, except for the band breaking down and a couple of guys in the back feverishly making out with one another. Oddly, rather than being disgusted, I felt my cock stir under my loose fitting bottoms at the sight of the intense passion being shared in that lip-lock. Like a deer caught in headlights, I continued to watch, and my cock continued to stiffen.

Shaking my head I just chalked it up to the severe case of blue-balls I was experiencing, being called out just as I was about to spray my load over Cindy's tonsils. "Silver lining!" I thought to myself, knowing that with such a small cock, nobody's be able to know I had a hard on, even in these flannel pajama bottoms, so my masculinity wouldn't be questioned.

Back to reality now, I continued to the back of the bar, past the rest rooms, and through the thick door with a big sign that read "MANAGER."

Sid's office was as impressive and meticulously appointed as his wardrobe. Tiffany lamps, a large mahogany desk with two burgundy leather chairs in front, and a matching leather couch on the far wall, where my brother lie, buck-ass naked and completely passed out.

Immediately, I felt the pang of my childhood jealousy in the pit of my stomach, looking at Danny's thick flaccid cock lying lewdly across his left thigh, appearing even bigger than I remember, as his crotch and balls were now cleanly shaven, smooth as the day he was born.

A flicker out of the corner of my eye interrupted my envious stare at my brother's cock, and I noticed that Sid now had huge flat panel TVs on each wall of his office. I presumed these were for the feeds from the security cameras during business hours, but saw that they now displayed changing images of erotic art.

Looking at the monitors, there were reproductions of paintings from every era, showing men in various stages of different sex acts with each other, and again I felt my cock rise to almost full attention.

"Get a grip man," I said to myself, as I walked over to my brother and tried to bring him back to the land of the living. "DANNY!" I shouted into his ear, slapping him gently on the face, trying to rouse him, but there was little response other than his deep breathing and mild snoring.

Looking around the room, doing my best to avoid the images on the TV screen, I was trying to locate Danny's clothes, which he apparently threw off his body in his rage and/or drunken stupor. I found his pants in a bundle in the far corner of the room. His shirt was flung over the arm of one of the leather chairs. One sock was hanging off one of the Tiffany lamps, the other I found in the trash can. 

Kneeling on the floor in front of Danny, I got busy with the task of getting him dressed so I could drive him home. Sliding his socks on first, I fed each of his feet into the legs of his "skinny jeans" and started to work them up to where his legs met the couch. Stopping there, I knew I'd have to lift him up to get them all the way on, since he was too far gone to provide any assistance.

With my hands tightly gripping the waistband of his jeans, I prepared to lift-and-tug, hopefully getting his pants up over his ass and fully up on one shot. 

I counted to myself in my head, "one... two.. three...OH SHIT!"

I pulled Danny up off the couch and tugged as hard as I could, but only got the pants half way up. His dead weight crashed back to the couch, pulling me forward, my hands trapped under his ass, my face smack dab in his crotch and my nose and mouth resting on his flaccid member!

I instinctively snapped back in horror, but not before inhaling the full scent of his musky aroma, which sent a jolt of electricity down my spine directly to my throbbing cock.

Fighting the urge to reach out and touch it, I quickly returned to my task, shimmying his pants up under his butt. Oddly, I felt a little sad as his cock disappeared under the faded denim, like saying good-bye to an old friend I hadn't seen in 30 years.

Zipping and buttoning up his pants, I worked his shirt over his arms and head and was happy to be almost out of this place. Miraculously, one shoe was right in front of me on the floor under the couch, but goddamn if I could find the other shoe!

I felt ridiculous crawling around Sid's office on my hands and knees, looking under everything for that other shoe, but with the way my mind had been wandering, I wanted get out of there as quickly as I could, hoping that Cindy might still be awake to take care of me and my "little" problem.

Then something caught my eye in the corner of the far wall of the office, down near the floor. It looked like a thin black shoe lace sticking out of the wall.

"How the hell did he get his shoe stuck in the wall?" I thought to myself, as I crawled across the room. When I got close, I noticed there was a seam in the wall, which was actually a pocket-door, painted the same color as the room, so as to blend it. Thinking it was a closet, I slid the door to the right to retrieve the shoe.

To my surprise, it wasn't much more than a four inch recess in the wall, and sure enough, there was Danny's other shoe. As I picked up the shoe and stood up on my knees, I was wondering why the hell there'd be a door opening to this empty recess in Sid's office, and then I saw what appeared to be a four-inch square plug almost at my eye level. Removing the plug, I peered through the hole, and found myself staring directly into one of the toilet stalls of the men's room.

"HOLY GLORY HOLE BATMAN!" I actually said out loud as I chuckled to myself at discovering one of Sid's secrets! Inspecting the plug, I could see that a full wall tile was affixed to the other side, making it unnoticeable from the men's room when it was in place. Judging by the position of the hole in reference to Sid's athletic build, it appeared to be just the right height.

My mind wandered to images of a horny Sid sticking his cock through this glory hole waiting for one of his perverted patrons to anonymously service him. I wondered how long he would stand there trolling before there was some horny dude sitting on the toilet on the other side, surprised by the magical appearance of a thick hard cock. Then I started to think of how it must feel to lower your head and take a complete stranger's cock into your mouth, feeling the heavy weight on your tongue as your lips close around it. 

I could actually feel saliva building up in my mouth as these vivid images raced through my brain, and was shocked to find that my hand had instinctively reached into my pants and I was stroking my cock as this fantasy played out in my mind.

Danny let out a large snore as he shifted positions on the couch, the noise interrupting the fantasy, and making me snap around as if I had been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Thankfully it was still just me and my passed out brother in the office, so I turned back to the wall to replace the plug and get out of there.

Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be that easy.

When I turned back to the wall, I was greeting to the sight of a long, thick, circumcised cock hanging through the opening, and slowly hardening. As the cock stiffened, I could see that the stranger had also pushed his balls through the opening in wall, and they hung low and full.

The next few moments seemed like an hour, as I just knelt there and stared at the stiffening cock, until it was at full attention and there was a dollop of pre-cum collecting at the tip. As if in a trance, I reached up and put my right hand around the thick shaft, and could feel the heat on my skin and the pulse from his veins as it throbbed in my grasp.

Still staring at the plum-sized head, my anonymous friend started to move his hips, drawing his cock in and out of my fist. The dollop of pre-cum continued to grow until it formed into a tear-shaped glob and started to slowly drip toward the floor.

My left hand reacted quickly, but the images played out in slow motion in my brain, as I caught the falling liquid on my index finger, and then slowly raised it to my mouth, touching it to my lips.

The watery liquid was still warm as I touched my lips with the tip of my tongue, the salty flavor moving over my taste buds causing my mouth to water and my cock to jump out of the fly in my pajamas.

Looking down, I saw my left hand encircle my cock, and I started to gently jerk myself off. Looking back up, I felt that familiar pang in my gut, as the cock in my right hand dwarfed the one in my left. I also noticed that my fist was now moving up and down the stranger's cock matching the rhythm on my own, and my thumb was smearing his pre-cum all over the bulbous head.

Powerless to stop myself, I leaned forward and parted my lips, a large sting of saliva falling to the floor as my tongue reached out toward the vertical opening at the tip of his cock. My new friend jumped and fireworks went off in my brain, as I dragged the tip of my tongue up through his piss slit, feeling the flesh of most sensitive part of other man for the first time.

My fist still working his shaft, and my own, I closed my lips over the tip of his cock, into a pucker like I was giving it a good-night kiss. Without much room to work, my friend started to rock his hips again, moving only his cock head in and out of my pursed lips. My lips would expand as they moved over his smooth cock head, almost to the ridge of his thick mushroom, and then contract as he withdrew until only the tip was again touching my lips, never breaking contact between us.

My tongue was now coated with copious amounts of pre-cum, and both my new friend and I knew we needed more.

Moving my hand down to fondle his balls, I leaned a little further forward and let more of his cock enter my mouth, until I could feel the spongy tip of his mushroom head at the back of my throat. 

A long, low "mmmmmmmmmm" came from the other side of the wall, as I slowly pulled my head back, feeling every bump and vein on his shaft as it slid over my tongue and through my lips.

I suddenly realized why it was so easy to get a blow job from Cindy, as I had no idea the amazing combination of sensations that sucking cock provides. The sight of a thick, erect member. The feeling on your lips and tongue. The salty taste of the sensitive skin and watery fluid. The musky aroma from a long day trapped in a pair of pants. And the simultaneous sounds of lewd sucking noises coming from the cock sucker, and appreciative purrs from the recipient.

My mind flipped the imagery of this reality, where I was now Cindy, and the huge cock I was sucking belonged to me. I started to think how happy I could make her if I were hung like a real man. I also started to remember all the things she does while sucking my cock that really drives me wild.

Stealing a page from her playbook, I moved my tongue around the head of his cock, like I was French-kissing it, before once again sliding my lips down his shaft, taking as much of him as could fit in my hungry mouth, then sticking my tongue out to tickle his balls. Problem was, with his size, there was about 4 inches of shaft between the tip of my tongue and his clean shaven balls!

Sticking my tongue out did however allow him to push in a little further, and his cock head slipped into the back of my throat.

"Oh yeahhhhhh!" came the loud moan from the other side of the wall just before my gag reflex ejected his cock along with a mouth full of saliva.

As I was coughing and choking, trying to catch my breath, the inevitable dawned on me, and my eyes flashed open wide with terror, as I started to contemplate what I intended to do when he finally reaches orgasm.

Should I stop right now and try to leave with the last shred of my dignity? Should I stop sucking and just jerk him off, letting his cum soak into the plush carpeting that covered Sid's office floor? Or should I man-up and swallow his load when the time comes, the way I like to finish in my dear Cindy's mouth?

Remembering one of Cindy's tricks that always works on me, I continued to jack him off but moved my mouth down to his balls, where I licked his sack, sucking first one, then the other of his balls into my hot wet mouth. Then pushing his cock straight up against the wall, I flattened my tongue and slowly ran it up the underside of his shaft until I reached the tip tracing circles around the ridge of his head with the tip of my tongue.

I repeated this process a few times, first sucking his balls, then slowly licking up his shaft, all the while curiously wondering what my reaction might be if he fills my mouth with his seed. 

Licking my lips, I quickly made my decision, returning his heavy tool to my mouth, and increasing the pace of my sucking. With one hand on his shaft and the other on his balls, the room filled with my slurping noises as I redoubled my efforts with my lips and tongue, determined to see this through to the end.

Within a few minutes, his moaning became louder and more regular and I could feel his cock twitch and expand in my mouth, and I knew the end was near.

With one final thrust, I felt the first splash of his cum hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed instinctively, still not noticing any taste. His second spurt came on the up-stroke, and his warm creamy cum spread across my tongue, my taste buds exploding with a mixture of salty-sweet gooey texture. My hand still jerking his shaft, the third squirt went down the wrong pipe, and I quickly pulled off his cock, coughing and spitting, as my eyes began to water.

My blurred vision kept me from moving away as his fourth rope of cum, which hit me square in the face, running through my eyes, over my nose and into my open mouth. Not only was his cock much bigger than mine, but with is fourth spurt, he produced clearly more cum than I ever had in my life!

Regaining my vision, I watched as his cock continued to twitch and shoot ropes of cum on my face, my mouth opening to try and catch it on my tongue, like I've seen Jenna Jameson do a thousand times.




I'm Not Gay



For some unknown reason, when his fire hose finally died down, I returned his cock to my mouth and cleaned off the cum that had dribbled down his shaft. I then let his softening tool fall from my mouth, as I pulled up my t-shirt to wipe off the drying seed that was all over my face.

When I finished wiping my face, I noticed that the cock had disappeared from the glory hole as quickly and mysteriously as it had appeared, so I decided now would be a good time to get the fuck out of there.

Returning the plug to the hole, I closed the closet door and brought the shoe over to Danny, just as he seemed to be coming back to life. He blinked a couple times and started rubbing his eyes, trying to adjust to the light in the office as I was tying up his shoes.

"What the fuck are you doing John?" he asked, still somewhat slurring his words.

"Rescuing your sorry ass in the middle of the night for the umpteenth time," I replied, trying to lift him up off the couch and on to his feet.

"No," he said as he pointed to the TV behind me, "what the fuck are you doing???"

I turned my head to see a high definition video of me on my knees servicing the anonymous cock. Apparently, Sid's office is equipped with video cameras and someone captured the whole ordeal, now playing it back on the large screens that filled his office.

"But you're not gay?" Danny said with a puzzled tone, still not distinguishing between his drunken stupor and reality.

Still dead in my tracks watching my worst nightmare unfold on the TV screens before me, I could see my cum stained t-shirt and matted hair in the reflection on the screen, and I wasn't quite sure how to answer my brother.



I'm Not Gay - But



My senior year in high school was supposed to be my ticket out of this boring small town. Football season was coming and I was trying to get in shape. Two colleges had contacted me about possibly offering me full-ride scholarships. God how I wanted out of this place!

I started working out early in the summer to get ready for the season. I had to be ready! I had to impress the scouts that the schools were going to send. Early one Saturday morning I went out for my morning jog. I had only gone about a mile when I stepped awkwardly into a pothole in the street and turned my ankle! It immediately started swelling. I could see the end of my football career before my eyes. I had no idea how bad it was.

My dad took me to the doctor and after a series of x-rays the doctor determined that it wasn't broken, but just badly sprained. I was relieved, but I knew this was severely going to impede my conditioning process. There was no way I could get ready for the season. All the way home from the doctor I sulked like a 2 year old. Dad knew I was upset. He patted me on the shoulder and said, "Tim, I know you were counting on getting ready this summer, but I have an idea. You know Larry, my best friend right?"

"Sure, dad!"

"Well, Larry is a physical trainer. He might have some ideas about how you can take care of that ankle. He might even help you keep on an exercise regimen while your ankle heals. I can give him a call if you like."

I was skeptical, but desperate. "Fine, dad. Give him a call."

That next Friday Larry showed up at the house early in the morning after Mom and Dad had left for work. I hobbled down stairs on my crutches and opened the door for him. He was wearing shorts and t-shirt. In my laziness, I was only wearing some gym shorts.

Larry and I went into the living room and talked about strategy. He looked at my ankle and confirmed that it was going to be an all summer process for it to heal. But, he thought that he could have me ready for the opening game of the season.

The first session with Larry was normal. He worked on stretches, weight lifting, and showed me how to ride an exercise bike without hurting the ankle further. We decided to work together three days a week. He was coming back on Monday. As he left, he swatted me on the ass and told me to keep my spirits up.

Monday morning rolled around. For some reason I came down in just my shorts again. Larry was dressed the same as Friday, but his shorts were tighter; I could see a bulge in his pants. I do not know why I noticed that, but I was sure that Larry wanted me to see it. We went into the garage to get started with the work out.

Larry started me on stretches. He helped me stretch my legs, pulling and pushing them. At one point, his hand slid down the inside of my thigh. My cock jumped immediately. Damn! "What's wrong with you Tim!", I thought to myself. I thought it was just an accident at first, but when I didn't protest, Larry did it again only sliding further down my leg this time.

Larry was coy. He didn't push things right away. We finished the workout. But then he asked, "Would you like a massage Tim? I'm sure you're sore and I could work out the kinks if you like."

I was sore. A massage sure did sound good. "Sure Larry, why not?"

He got some oil out of his bag, and I laid down on my stomach on the mat. He started with my neck and shoulders, gradually working his way down my back. God it felt good. I was almost falling asleep when he asked, "Tim, would you mind if I pull your shorts down, I want to get at you lower back, it seems pretty tight."

At first I wanted to get up and run, but the massage felt so good, I agreed. I lifted my ass up in the air and he slip my shorts all the way down to my ankles. He started working on my lower back, but his hands kept rubbing my ass cheeks as well. He startled me when he said, "Look Tim. Don't be embarrassed if you get an erection. It's only natural when you get a massage."

I already had an erection. In fact, it was getting quite uncomfortable lying on my stomach at this point.

Larry started massaging my legs. I just about came off the mat, however, when he let his fingers gently brush against my balls. God that felt good! I started to protest, but my lust took over. I knew then, Larry could do whatever he wanted to me that day! I had never even considered making it with a guy. But at that moment, I simply wanted someone to play with my cock.

I know he was watching for my reaction, wondering if I'd protest. When I didn't, he got bolder. "Turn over," he said. Without any hesitation, I did!

My cock sprung straight up, thrilled to be free. Larry looked at me and winked. Without saying a word he squirted some oil directly on to my cock and started stroking it up and down! "We don't want this big guy left out!" he said. "No we don't," I thought!

Being only eighteen, it only took me a couple of minutes and I came all over my chest! Larry just smiled and wiped up the cum with a towel. He inquired, "There, do you feel better?"

"God, I feel great!"

Larry wiped my cock clean, and then started rubbing my balls. I started getting hard again. This time he leaned over and took my swollen dick into his mouth. I had never had anyone suck me off before. I'd fucked a couple of girls, but neither of them wanted to give head. But getting a blow job felt delicious! And was he good! Since I had just cum I was able to hold out longer this time. He licked, and kissed and sucked my cock. He rubbed my balls. He licked them. He gobbled my up like I was Thanksgiving dinner. Before I knew it, I was cumming in his mouth. He swallowed every drop.

That summer was fantastic! Three days a week I had a personal trainer. I did get ready for the season. My ankle got better. But my real training was sexual. I didn't get the scholarship, but I did learn to suck cock like a pro!



I'm Not Gay Ch. 02



I woke up the next morning feeling inexplicably sad. My sleep-clouded brain couldn't comprehend this feeling of impending doom and then I remembered. I kissed Bryson. A sentence that should be said with excitement, except he had ruined it by hiding behind his supposed heterosexuality. Here's a hint, Bryson: Straight guys don't kiss other guys that intimately. I lay in bed wondering how long I could hide there without my family noticing something was amiss. Somehow, I doubted they would let me spend the entire two and a half weeks I was there in my bedroom. So, I would have to see him at some point. Which was fine because, as far as I was concerned, nothing happened. That's certainly how he wanted it and I was fine with that. No, you're not said the less useful, mutinous part of my brain you were hoping that kiss would end in happily ever after and instead your time at home is even more awkward now. 

My brain had a point. I took a deep breath and looked at the clock. Whew, it was already noon. I hadn't slept in that late in a while. I suppose crying for hours really knocked me out. I cursed myself for acting like a female and rolled out of bed to start my day. I wasn't sure what was on the agenda for today, but I knew that there weren't any major events that had to do with the wedding. If I wanted to, I could avoid Bryson the whole day. I'm not sure if thinking that much about Bryson was actually conducive to the whole ignoring him plan, but I couldn't help it. I'd been thinking about Bryson in one context or another for so long that, at this point, it was like breathing. I pulled on an old t-shirt and pair of jeans and walked down into the kitchen. My family was sitting around the table eating lunch. I wordlessly joined the table and started making myself a sandwich. Even years down the road, my family knew that I wasn't one for chatter when I first woke up. I needed time to get used to being awake before I became a fully functional member of society. After about twenty minutes, we began talking about the plans for the day and Dane told me he was planning on going down to the river and drinking some beer on the boat and asked if I would like to join him. I was ready with a refusal, but it died on my lips as I say the hopeful look on Dane's face. We had been pretty close when we were younger and I could tell at times that it upset Dane that we didn't really talk that much any more. I went and grabbed some shoes and hopped into Dane's truck with him. 

I had to admit, the river was nice. It was beautiful out and I was enjoying my time spent with my brother. I hadn't joked or laughed like this in so long. It was different from hanging out with my work friends. Even with the time apart, Dane knew me. He had grown up with me and I was able to be more comfortable around Dane than I was around any of my Chicago friends. I had grown up with Bryson, too. I had probably spent as much time with Bryson as I had with Dane since they were practically inseparable. Yet, I was anything but completely myself around Bryson. Dane excused himself to go to the bathroom so I took that moment to close my eyes and bask in the sun. I had my eyes closed for a minute or two before I got that prickly sense you feel whenever someone is looking at you. 

I figured it was Dane, so I said "Keep staring at me and I'm going to charge you." 

"It'd be worth it." That deep voice definitely did not belong to Dane. 

I opened one eye and looked over at Bryson leaning on a tree. There was a slight flush on his cheeks that signaled he regretted what he had said. He wasn't looking at me any more. Anger filled up my senses. What was this game he was playing? Kissing, flirting and then pulling back as if he was embarrassed by something I did. I was sick of this game and, without any pretense that I was leaving for any other reason than his presence, I got up and attempted to storm off. I've always wanted a good movie storm off. There was no door to slam, but I figured this would do just fine. I, however, did not figure out that Dane had left his sandals by his chair. So when I went to storm past Bryson, I tripped over the sandal and landed face first on the grass with my legs tied up in Dane's folding chair. I suppose it was my fault for assuming I could be that dramatic without consequences. I turned around and sat up. I heard laughter and immediately shot a venomous glare in Bryson's direction. His laughter only served to ignite my anger further. Bryson, with a smirk set solidly on his face, offered me his hand, but I ignored it and managed to disentangle myself from the chair and continue my storm out with just a little less dignity than before. 

I passed Dane and, when he asked me where I was going, I yelled, "I'm walking home!"

"Do you need help walking? Walking home, that is." I ignored Bryson's funny little joke and continued my walk home. My house wasn't exactly close to the river so it would probably take me a while. I decided to cut through the forest so that I would save some time. I used to cut through this path with Dane and Bryson all the time. I remember the first time I ever followed them to the path. My gangly eight-year old self hesitated at the dark entryway to the path. It seemed ominous at the time and I'd heard rumors of bears the size of Mack trucks roaming those woods. Bryson and Dane mocked me from the forest with various jeers; all basically pointing out that I was a baby and that I didn't have the guts it took to take this path. Bryson even suggested I get my mom to drive me to the river, since that's what the rest of the babies do. When I looked in his eyes that day, they were full of mischief. He was daring me to do something, to prove that I wasn't scared. It was the same look he had on his face today at the river when he offered to help me up. I think that look, along with a healthy dose of embarrassment and anger, was the reason I didn't accept his help. I wasn't sure I was ready to delve into whatever game he was playing. I'd reverted from an adult male to a scared eight-year old boy again. Well, I had taken the path then, but somehow I knew that a lot more was at stake if I chose to follow Bryson down this path. What did I expect to happen? That Bryson would admit that he loved me, always had, and then he'd sweep me off to his house where we would have our 2.5 children and attend PTA meetings in between our passionate lovemaking. God, that sounded so great. Jeez, I needed to snap out of it. 

I turned onto my street finally and, when I got to my house and greeted my family, I made my way upstairs to my room. I was exhausted, sweaty, and in desperate need of a shower. I was stripping my shirt off as I entered my room and I regretted it as I ran into a wall while the shirt was above my head. I took the shirt completely off and gasped when that wall turned out to be Bryson. I couldn't very well put on my shirt again without looking completely virginal, so I was forced to stand there shirtless in front of the man that had been haunting my thoughts lately. 

"What...are you doing here?" I was struggling to come up with something wittier as I made my way to the dresser, but I was shocked. I pulled out a different shirt and put it on. I decided that I didn't care about looking virginal. I just wanted to look fully clothed. I turned to Bryson as he began to speak. 

"I wanted to talk...about the kiss." He said as if there were anything else we would possibly need to talk about. 

"No need. I get it. Everyone experiments sometimes. It didn't mean anything and it's already forgotten. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. I heard you that night. You're not gay." I said all of this at mach speed with the hope that the conversation was over and we could move on to never speaking again. It killed me to say it didn't mean anything. Even though that kiss had broken my heart, it had also been like my wildest dream coming true. 

"I'm not sure about that." said Bryson. 

"No honestly, don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone." I was a little hurt that he thought I would betray him like that. 

"No. I meant I'm not so sure that I'm not gay. You see, I've kind of always had this thing for you. You were always so cute and innocent. I thought it was just brotherly love, but then, that night that we hung out just the two of us when you were 16, I had some very unbrotherly thoughts. After that, I was ashamed and I convinced myself that it was a one-off. I still liked girls so I ignored it. The other night at the fire, though, you looked so...I don't know, beautiful I guess. The firelight was shining off of your hair and your skin and you looked like an angel. It just made me want to bring you down to earth with me, which is what led to the kiss. I am sorry about that. I got scared and I used my old defense mechanism: I'm straight. I'd decided to ignore it still. Then I saw you today under the sun. Do you know that almost any lighting makes you look like an angel? Well, I decided that I was sick of running from it and then you took that adorable spill and I was hooked even further. The look on your face when you sat up from the fall was so adorably confused. I normally try to be honest and straightforward. So, I wanted to talk to you and tell you that I would like to date you, if you are willing." Bryson finished with a happy gleam in his eyes and a small smile crossing his face. He looked relieved and I was sure he expected me to run into his arms like any other fair maiden in a romance novel once she's been told she was being courted. 

Throughout his whole speech, I just sat there with a blank look on my face and it took me a few seconds to comprehend that Bryson was asking to take me on dates, as in romantic dates. When my brain finally caught up, I spluttered out, "No! Just no! You don't have any idea what you're saying. You're not gay. You're straight." I explained it as if he were just a confused child who didn't know the meanings of gay and straight. He had to be mixed up. 

"Come on, Noah! Why not? Don't act like I'm dumb. I know what I am and I'm gay. Gay for you, in particular." He winked at me at the last part and it made me want to punch him. 

"No, it doesn't work like that. You like girls. Hence, you are straight. Or maybe bisexual. However, I seriously doubt you're even bi. Can you honestly imagine being intimate with me? Seriously imagine it? With all the dirty, kinky stuff included." I was trying to scare him away. What he was suggesting was just crazy. Right now, he looked a lot like that forest path: scary and leading into the unknown. He paused for a moment and I thought I'd gotten him. He'd never be able to imagine sex with me. It would surely repulse him. 

"Can I imagine having sex with you? How can I not with the way you look right now? You walk in here all tousled and sweaty. It looks like you were just well fucked. I can even imagine the delicate keening noises you would make. I bet you love sucking cock. I can imagine every second of that, too. Your beautiful, red lips would look perfect stretched around my cock." Bryson was moving closer to me and I was frozen in my spot. He reached up with his large hand and ran his fingers over my lips. I gasped and that motion made his fingers drag across my open bottom lip. I tried to hold back a shudder, but was unsuccessful as I felt his other hand graze the bulge in my jeans. I was so enraptured by his speech that I hadn't even noticed how hard I had gotten. 

Bryson continued, "Of course, I'm not a selfish lover. I would return the favor. Half of the surprise would be what your dick looked like. You're a little guy. Is it proportional to your body or are you sporting a secret monster? Either way, I would lick up one side and down the other and then suck the head into my mouth, all the while playing with your balls. I wouldn't let you come just then, though. I'd make my way up your body, slowly licking every inch of skin I could find. I would taste that sweet mouth again while I used my fingers to prepare your body. One finger, two fingers, three fingers, maybe even four if you're being a good boy. I need to prepare you for my big cock because, after I'm done preparing you, I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before." I couldn't breath because, as Bryson was describing ravaging my ass, he was in reality just lightly stroking my ass cheeks in his one hand while the other hand roamed my entire body, spending the majority of the time on my face. It was such a tease. He was saying such hot, passionate words, but using such delicate touches. My mind and my body were at war. He stopped all of his motion and used both hands to grab the sides of my face and stared intently in my eyes as he said, "Every other lover will pale in comparison because you were meant to be mine. So, to answer your question, not only am I able to imagine fucking that sweet ass of yours, but imagining it seems to be the only thing I'm capable of doing these days." 

With that, I felt those lips touch mine again. This wasn't the sweet, gentle kiss I had experienced out by the campfire. This kiss had passion, hot, almost palpable passion. I couldn't believe how good his large, hard body felt against mine. He was so much taller than me, yet we fit together perfectly. I felt completely consumed by his heat. His lips felt soft and, instead of beer, he tasted of mint this time. The taste was warm and just so Bryson-like that I felt a shudder run through me as I gasped. This left my mouth open for Bryson's tongue, which took no time to swoop in and taste every last crevice in my mouth. I was lost in passion. I realized that Bryson was holding me hard against him and, although I was definitely participating in the kiss, my arms were dangling there by my sides. I pulled away and raised my right arm and...slapped Bryson across the face. 

"Ow, what the fuck, Noah?! I know you said kinky shit included, but I didn't think you meant actual S + M!" Bryson cried while he held his cheek. What a baby, I hadn't hit him that hard since I hadn't had a good angle. 

"What the fuck, Noah?? How about what the fuck, Bryson!? You weren't supposed to actually kiss me, let alone attack me like you did. That was supposed to be a test. You weren't supposed to actually want to sleep with me. It was just a test. Jesus!" I wiped at my mouth and turned away from him to hide the evidence of my arousal. The last thing I need him knowing is just how much I enjoyed that kiss. "You need to stop this, Bryson. This isn't going to happen. I don't believe that you're really gay and, even if I did, I certainly don't believe that you're ready to come out. I refuse to be in a relationship with a guy who is going to wake up one day and realize 'Hey, I don't actually want to be with a man.' and I certainly refuse to go back in the closet for you. Just give it a couple of days and this feeling will pass. In two weeks, I'll be gone and you can return to the parade of women you no doubt have waiting for your call." Silence followed my statement and I thought maybe Bryson had left in the middle of my speech. I turned around to see Bryson standing a few inches in front of me with a big grin on his face. 

"What are you smiling at? I just told you no." I had no idea why my rejection would please him that much. 

"Well I refuse your refusal. Besides, I tried honest and straightforward. You don't seem to respond well to that. I have a new plan now." He said while maintaining that infuriating grin. 

"And what, exactly, is this new genius plan? Are you going to kidnap me?" I said condescendingly. 

His grin got impossibly wider before he leaned closer and said, "Not quite. Noah, my love, I'm going to seduce you. I'm going to make you fall in love with me." He leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips before breezing out of my room. 

I collapsed onto my bed as one thought ran through my head: Oh fuck.



I'm Not Gay Ch. 03



 Sorry for the wait! I'm in Italy actually and I've been having some serious Internet issues. I've been getting a lot of complaints about length, so I tried to make this one a little longer. Hope you enjoy! 

*

 That bastard! What is he doing? He hasn't made a move all week. It's like he's not even trying to seduce me...not that I want him to seduce me. But that's beside the point.  I thought.

I hadn't stopped thinking about Bryson for the past two days. We'd had minimal contact ever since he told me he was going to seduce me. It wasn't the fact that he wasn't doing anything that was getting to me. It was the fact that I didn't know whether he had lost his nerve, realized he wasn't gay, found someone else, or whether this was all part of a seduction technique. If it was a seduction technique, then it was totally working. I had never been so revved up in my life. Every time I saw him, or someone even mentioned his name, I got hard. I was like a teenage boy again, masturbating with Bryson's name on my lips. When it came time for the bachelor party, I was so worked up that I didn't even care that I was going to have to stare at naked women with a bunch of drunken morons all night. 

Speaking of bachelor parties, I had the world's most awkward conversation with my brother about his party. 

"So, Noah, you're coming to the bachelor party, right?" Dane asked one morning. 

"Why wouldn't I? I'm a groomsman, aren't I?" I said jokingly. 

"I just figured it might be a little...boring for you. I was thinking that, if you want, we could maybe see if they could maybe get a stripper who was a dude...for you. I don't think the other guys will watch, but, if you want, I could get one for you and I would stay with you. I don't know. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not excluding you." Dane finished by putting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. I felt a surge of love for my brother right then. The fact that he would make himself that uncomfortable in order to make me feel included made me feel so loved. I didn't want to look like a girl, but I almost started crying. 

"Dane, I really appreciate the gesture, but I want to watch a male stripper with my brother about as much as I want to show mom my porn collection. Thank you, but no thank you. I will dutifully attend the female strip club tonight for my big brother's wedding and I will do it with a smile on my face. I've been meaning to tell you this, but I'm really happy for you. Ashley is great for you and, even though I don't know her that well, I think she's great." I said. I could see the relief coming off Dane in waves. His face lit up at the mention of Ashley, his fiancée. It made me feel good to see Dane so happy. 

That's how I found myself sitting at the bar with a beer in my hands watching half-naked females swinging around poles. It wasn't exactly my scene, but Dane was blissfully drunk and having so much fun that I couldn't help but smile and laugh along. Bryson was there too, but was ignoring me. This had become somewhat of a custom lately. Bryson showed up. I stared at him. He ignored me. I stared at him harder. He ignored me even more. If this was planned on his part, then he must be some sort of seduction genius. I went from being terrified of his seduction, to being relieved that he was giving up, to being curious about what his intentions were, and then I was desperate for any form of attention. 

"Stare any harder and you're going to put a dent in him." I snapped my head around and looked at the bartender. He was a tall guy with short brown hair, green eyes, and a goatee. He was kind of muscular, but not bulky. He was actually really cute. 

"You don't know what you're talking about. I was  not  staring." I said snootily before taking a sip of my beer. I wasn't exactly from a progressive town and letting the bartender from the only strip club in town know that I was lusting after another guy was not a good idea. 

"Hey, I get it. He's hot" said the bartender. I looked at him in shock and he continued, "Just because I'm the bartender at the place doesn't mean I enjoy the goods here. Hi, my name is Alex. I'm a fellow homo." He finished with a laugh and I couldn't help but add my own little chuckle. I'd never had anyone introduce himself to me in that way before. 

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I suppose you were right before. I was staring, but it's not like that. He's straight." I said with a sigh. 

"Good. Less competition." Alex said with a wink in my direction. I was a little thrown off guard. I was not expecting to be hit on in a strip club. At least not by anyone other than a misguided exotic dancer looking for tips. I couldn't help but look over at Bryson sitting by the stage. It felt wrong. I mean, he was in the middle of seducing me. Maybe. To date someone else would be wrong. Wait. That made no sense. I was single and Bryson was most definitely straight. I could date whomever I wanted. However, something still made me say no when I turned back to Alex. 

"Listen, Alex. You're cute and you seem really nice. I'm just not in town for that long. I only have a week and a half left here. I'm not really the one-night stand type either. So I'm sorry, but this isn't going anywhere." I said with a shrug and an apologetic face. 

Alex started laughing. "Well, I've never had anyone turn my down before I even actually asked them out. But just so you know," he leaned over closer to my face "it's not a one-night stand if you have a week and a half. I'm sure it would take longer than one night to get sick of someone as hot as you." He was really close to my face now, but he just pulled away and went to the other side of the bar to wash dishes. What was wrong with all the men in this town? Had everyone decided it was time to turn gay and torture me? I blushed as I got up from my bar stool and made my way to the bathroom. I splashed some water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror. I couldn't believe it. I live in a city with a very active gay community and I almost never get hit on. I come home to my old-fashioned hometown and suddenly I've got a list of suitors. I mean, that list is only two deep, but still. I walked out into the small hallway that housed the bathrooms and saw Bryson walking towards me. I figured he was going to ignore me some more so I made to scoot past him. Suddenly, I was grabbed around the waist and pushed against the wall. 

"I saw you talking to the bartender. Old friend?" Bryson asked.

"What? No, I just met him and he was nice so I talked to him for a little while. Why do you care?" I was being bratty and I knew it, but I had a lot of pent up tension. 

He started stroking the hair back from my face over and over. The rhythm of it was soothing my bad mood. "You know, Noah, if you're trying to speed up the seduction by making me jealous, you're doing an excellent job." Then, his lips were on mine for a fraction of a second. I felt the brief slip of his lips against mine and then it was gone. I tried to savor the touch, smell, and taste. He smelled like smoke and tasted like beer, but his lips felt so soft and perfect. That man must have ironclad self-discipline. I don't know how he was able to pull away after such a short kiss. "Now, I think we both need some fresh air to cool off. Come outside with me?" I nodded slowly and he grabbed my hand and dragged me through the bar. I tried tugging my hand out of his, but every time he would just squeeze my hand tighter. I knew Dane and the other guys would find it odd if they caught us holding hands, but they never even looked over. We made our way to the back door of the club. There were two chairs and table with an ashtray on it. Bryson let go of my hand and sat in one of the chairs before motioning for me to take the other. I sat down gently and looked at my lap. I'd waited all week for Bryson's attention and, now that I had it, I was frozen.

Luckily, I didn't need to think of anything to say because Bryson broke the silence with "So, did you miss me this week?"

I suppose the cool thing to say would have been "I don't know what you're talking about. I saw you this week". However, I responded with "I knew you were ignoring me on purpose!" After the words tumbled out, I could feel the second blush of the night creeping up my neck. I looked away in hopes that would be the end of the conversation. No such luck.

"Ah, so you noticed. You didn't answer my question. Did you miss me? I'm going to take that adorable blush as a yes." He smiled like he just won a chess game stretched his long legs out in front of him. 

"You really need to stop calling me adorable. I'm not a fucking bunny, for Christ's sake. And, to answer your question, no I didn't miss you. I actually thought you had come to your senses and realized that your obvious heterosexuality would prevent you from seducing me." I said

"That's  supposed  heterosexuality, sweetheart. I like bunny, though. I think you did miss me, Bunny. How many times did you masturbate about me in the past couple of days? Just so you know, I masturbated to you almost twice a day since our last kiss." I think it might have been his goal to shock me. 

I stared at him for a few seconds before I turned away and said, "I refuse to have this conversation and I definitely refuse to answer that question. In the interest of changing the topic, are you getting nervous about fulfilling your best man duties on the wedding day?"

"Nah, I don't have the hard part. Dane's got the short end of the stick. All I have to do is remember the ring, he's got to be married after this." he finished with a chuckle. 

For some reason, that made me sad. "You never think about marriage?" I asked sincerely. 

"Not a whole lot. I suppose I should. Why? Do you?" he asked.

"Yeah, all the time. I used to think that I would be fine being alone forever with my same little apartment and my same monotonous job, but recently I've been thinking how wonderful it would be to have a family. Seeing Dane and Ashley has made it worse, too. Obviously, being gay, I thought my options for family were limited, but nowadays you can adopt or do artificial insemination. If you find someone you love enough and are ready to commit to, you can have a family complete with 2.5 children and a golden retriever. I thought I would never have it, but I've realized that's what I want. I want to wake up in the morning, take care of my adorable children, feed my rambunctious golden retriever, and then make love to my gorgeous husband in our two-story house in the suburbs. I imagine you find that ridiculous." I looked over at Bryson and he was staring at me with affection in his eyes. 

"I don't. That sounds wonderful. You could have that, you know. If you just let us happen. I could give you all of that." He said while grabbing my hand across the table. 

I looked at him sadly. I'd been so fiery and angry before, but I needed to sincerely and honestly explain to Bryson why I couldn't let this happen. "Bryson, you just got through telling me that you're not even thinking about marriage. You're so confused right now that it wouldn't even be fair of me to start dating you. Not fair to you and, I'm sorry, but not fair to me either. I don't think you understand what this would mean to me. I was hoping to get away without embarrassing myself here, but you need to understand. If I started this with you, I would want the whole relationship deal. I would need dates, romantic gesture, and a possibility of a future with you. I don't think you're ready. Can you tell me in complete honesty that you are 100% sure you are gay? That we would be insanely happy and we would be together for life? Can you promise me my family?" I waited for his answer, but it never came. He just stared at me. He looked so lost and confused. "See, you haven't even thought about these things. You're just not ready, Bryson. Neither am I."

I got up and walked to the door. I hesitated with my hand on the door handle and turned to look back at Bryson. He was still just sitting there. Obviously he couldn't see us as that happy family that I so desperately longed for us to be. I hadn't realized it until now, but when I fantasized of my little family, the man helping me bathe our children and walk our dog was Bryson. He was my dream husband and it looked like it would remain in my dreams. I was sad, but I was also angry. Why wouldn't he think about things like this before starting his seduction? Why get my hopes up if you're not ready for a future? Well, I didn't need a future. I could live in the now. With my mind made up, I headed towards the bar. I stomped behind the bar and up to Alex. 

Alex looked at me a little startled and said, "Hey, you're really not supposed to be back here." I reached up, grabbed Alex's face, and landed a kiss on his lips. 

"Hi, my name is Noah and I'm free for that date, if it's still on the table." I tried to sound sultry, but with very little practice I'm sure I just sounded corny. I realized at that moment that Alex very well may not be out at work and I just outed him with that kiss. I peeked up into his face, but only saw a smile. 

"Nice to finally meet you, Noah. I think I can definitely help you out with that date. But first, a question. Are you dating that guy? I saw you two leave here holding hands. I may be a bit of a scoundrel from time to time, but I don't deal with taken guys. So tell me, honestly, are you with him?" Alex looked at me seriously and I had to actually think. Was I  with  Bryson? No, anything that could have been between us died when I scared Bryson away with my plans for the future.

I looked Alex square in the eye and said, "I'm not with Bryson. He's just...a friend, I guess. Let me give you my number and you can give me a call when you want to go out." I scribbled my number on a napkin and Alex shoved it in his pocket. I didn't know if he would actually call, but it felt nice to talk to a man that wasn't so mixed up. 

I went and said goodbye to my brother and the rest of the groomsmen, with the exception of Bryson, who still hadn't come in from outside. I walked to my car while trying to convince myself that giving my number to Alex had been the right thing to do, that it wasn't betraying Bryson, and that the brief kiss I had shared with Alex was just as good as the kisses I've had with Bryson. I decided to just not think about it and I drove myself home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I felt sick in the morning, even though I hadn't drunk anything but a beer the night before. Is it possible to have an emotional hangover? Probably not, but I'm still citing an emotional hangover as the source of my problems. I decided to go get myself coffee at the local café. It was a cozy little place with games, books, and a pretty decent cup of coffee. I had been coming there to relax since I was 16 years old. I was sitting there reading a book I had found on the table next to me when I heard "Hey! Noah, right? You didn't write your name with your number!" I looked up to find the cute bartender looking down at me. He was actually cuter in the daylight. 

"Hey, Alex. Yeah, it's Noah. What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I come here all the time. I love to read the books that people leave behind, plus they make a great hot chocolate here." He said while perusing the book selection on the table next to him. 

"Yeah, that's why I come here, too. Except I drink the coffee. How long have you lived in Brawnee Falls, Alex? I can't imagine I would have missed you if you had grown up here. Another gay kid would be kind of hard to ignore in this town. Speaking of, I want to apologize about the kiss the other night. You were at work and I didn't even know if you were out at work and I had no right. I just wanted you to know that I apologize if it caused any troubles." I was relieved I got the chance to apologize. 

Alex laughed my apology off "No, seriously, don't worry. I enjoyed the kiss and I'm out at work" I looked incredulous at this and he continued, "They sell sex. They're not too judgmental. Honestly, they're just glad that they don't have to worry about me harassing the girls. But, to answer your question, I've lived here for only the past five years. I know it's a weird place to pick to move, but I'm only from a couple of towns over and I've always liked Brawnee Falls. It's a little old-fashioned, but people are expanding their horizons slowly. I'm pretty much out to the whole town and I only get glared at by half the town now, as opposed to the whole town." He finished with a shrug, as if it wasn't a big deal that half the people he lives around hate him. I don't know if I could do that. That's surely what Bryson was asking me to do with him. Live with him in Brawnee Falls and raise our family. He must be delusional. I realized I was spacing out on Alex so I turned back to look at him. 

"Well, I think you're very brave. I'm out pretty much only to my family and to my close friends. I just feel so vulnerable when I tell people. It's unrealistic, but I want them to judge them on the person that I am and I don't want them to just look at me and think 'Oh, that's the gay guy.' Is that stupid?" I asked

"No, that's perfectly understandable. I felt that way too, but I realized that, if I want people to get to know me as a person, I can't ignore a major part of who I am. It wouldn't be honest." He said it like it was so simple. Once I thought of it from his perspective, I had to acknowledge that what he said was true. After that, we both started reading. Well, Alex started reading. I spent the majority of the time thinking about whether I was stifling my identity by not telling everyone I was gay. I thought about my life, my family, Alex, and Bryson. I was so involved in my thoughts I didn't even realize that I was staring right at Alex. 

"Are you always this much of a starer?" He asked with a smile on his face. 

"No! I'm sorry, I was just thinking." I apologized. 

"That's fine. This was fun, but I got to go. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" asked Alex.

I was still a little wrapped up in my thoughts and I didn't think before I said, "Sure thing. Where at?" We agreed on a time and a place. Alex said he would drive and would pick me up at my house. It took me until Alex walked out of the café to realize that I was going out on a date later tonight. I felt a giddy thrill run through me. I wasn't sure how I felt about Alex, but I hadn't been on a date in so long. I ran home to pick out an outfit. 

An hour later, I was sitting in my living room watching TV and waiting for Alex to come pick me up. The doorbell rang and I popped up to get it. I opened the door with a smile on my face that faltered when I saw that it was Bryson at the door. I walked into the living room, allowing him to let himself in. We hadn't talked since last night and I was feeling a little awkward. 

"You look fancy." He stated. 

"Yeah, well, I have a date so I hope so." I don't know why I did it. Maybe I thought it would make me feel better to make him feel worse, but it didn't work. The look of pure hurt and betrayal that crossed his face at my words made me feel like scum. I shouldn't feel bad about moving on, because he hadn't even thought about a future with me in it. I tried to revive the anger I had felt last night and I gathered it around me like a shield. 

"Noah, we need to talk about what happened last night. I-" he got cut off by the doorbell. We stared at each other for a minute, both of us knowing who was on the other side of the door. I moved to go get the door. I felt his fingers close around my wrist and I shivered at his touch. I looked up at his face and he was smirking. That little smirk provided me with enough anger to break free from his touch and go to let Alex in. 




I'm Not Gay Ch. 03



I opened the door and moved past the threshold before closing the door. I don't think I was ready for Alex and Bryson to meet. Alex looked at me curiously, but didn't openly question me about it. We drove about twenty minutes out of town to a pleasant restaurant on the water. We just chitchatted in the car. It was nice and Alex proved himself to be smart and funny. I was actually looking forward to the rest of this date. 

When we got to the restaurant, we were seated at a table on the deck overlooking the river. I was enjoying the view when all of a sudden I felt a hand on my shoulder and I heard a panicked "Noah!" I looked over to find Bryson staring down at me with a panicked face to match his voice. 

"Bryson, what are you doing here?!" I asked concerned. 

"You need to come with me, Noah! Come on! We've got big problems at home! Let's go! Let's go! Hurry!" he was rushing me out of my seat. I looked at Alex and he waved me forward with a promise to call me later. 

"Bryson, wait!! Is it Mom? Dad? Dane? What's going on?" I was starting to get really upset. 

"No time for explanations! I'll explain later. Come on! Get in my truck!" I climbed up into the seat and waited for Bryson to climb in, as well. I was running through the possibilities in my head of what could have happened. I was so deeply involved in my worries that I hadn't realized that we had been driving in silence for ten minutes. 

"Bryson, will you tell me what is wrong now?" I asked plaintively. 

"Ok. On one condition: promise not to be mad." He looked at me and worriedly chewed on his bottom lip. 

"Why would I be mad? Just tell me!" I almost yelled. 

"Just promise me you won't be mad and I'll tell you!" he yelled back.

"Fine!"

"Ok...you see, there's not technically an emergency. Your family is fine. Back there, when I said we had major problems at home, I meant you and I had major problems that needed to be worked out. I'm sorry I mislead you" he finished. He was eyeing me cautiously. I was completely still. 

"Bryson, take me back to the restaurant immediately. If I'm lucky, I can catch Alex and somehow explain to him that you are a crazy person." I said somewhat calmly with only a small twitch in my eye. 

"No! Absolutely not! I'm not driving you back so you can go on a date with another man. If you want dinner, we can go get food. I'm not bringing you back to him" he said adamantly. 

"Bryson, pull over"

"What? No!"

"BRYSON, PULL OVER!!" After that, he slowly pulled over to the side of the road. I turned to look at him. With no warning, I landed a solid, if not a little awkward punch. He flinched back and grabbed his face. 

"What the fuck, Noah?! Seriously, again? You're abusive!!" Bryson complained. 

"Stop doing stuff to make me angry and I'll stop hitting you, asshole. That was an awful trick. I was imagining my whole family was dead and it was all just because you wanted to talk!!" I was fuming with anger. "Well, now you have me here. What do you want to talk about? Do you want to talk about the fact that you completely choked when I started talking about a future last night?" 

"I was thinking, Noah! Jesus! You sprung a pretty big issue on me and then gave me no time to think about it. I haven't considered a future with you, in the same way that I haven't considered a future with Santa Claus. I never thought we would happen, Noah. I've been thinking about the future since you yelled at me last night. You have a pretty nasty habit of yelling and hitting, but I decided that I want a future with you anyway. I think that we could be for forever and that we would be very happy. I can't promise we'll be happy forever. No one can. I'm sure we'll fight because I can't manage to go five minutes without pissing you off, but I think we could have a good life together if we work at it. If you would stop dating other men, that would help. Christ, Noah, do you know how much that killed me? To think of you with another man?" he said the last part softly and it made something in my heart twinge. 

"I'll be honest and admit that I only did it to get back at you, in a disturbed way, for not planning a future with me. It was just nice to talk to a man who wasn't confused about his sexuality. It's just...I don't know what to say. When are you going to realize that you're just going through a weird phase and that you're not gay?" I asked 

"When are you going to realize that my life before I admitted I was gay was my weird phase? Why is it impossible for me to be gay? Why do you believe Alex is gay, but not me? Wasn't there a time in every gay man's life that he pretended to be straight? You didn't come out until sophomore year of college. So I waited a little longer to acknowledge it. So what? Why are you punishing me for it? I want to be with you, Noah. I'm ready and I want to be with you for the real deal. With titles, cuddling, and hopes for the future. I want to be the man that takes our 2.5 children to school and plays fetch in the backyard with our golden retriever. I don't want to sit by and watch this new guy do all of these things, Noah. I love you and I want to love you forever. Let me love you, Noah. Please." Bryson took a deep breath and looked at me. I was frozen. I had never had someone say such sweet things to me. What he said made sense, too. Who was I to question his sexuality? And even if it turns out that he isn't really gay, why was I denying myself the opportunity to be with the man of my dreams? It may end up breaking my heart, but wouldn't his love be worth it? I looked into Bryson's face. He had a pained expression, clearly taking my silence as a rejection. 

I closed the distance over the middle of the car and touched my lips to his. It was a gentle kiss, just a physical acceptance of his love. He cupped the back of my head with one hand and pulled me in harder. This kiss was with a little more passion. I could feel his desperation and fear of rejection seep out of him and be replaced with joy and lust. I was feeling the same emotions. A small part of my brain was objecting to doing something this careless, but the rest of my brain was cheering as the endorphins rushed through my system. I was halfway over onto his side of the car, almost in his lap. I was experiencing the sweet pleasure that is kissing Bryson Ganton. He is truly an experience for all of the senses. His taste is truly his own and it's always either beer or mint with a warm undertone of natural Bryson. He smells like man with just a hint of sweat and whatever cologne he threw on in the morning. The feel of his body against mine is intoxicating and his lips are so firm and so soft that they drug me with their kisses. The sight of his larger hand holding my smaller hand makes me feel so safe and secure. I never want to let go of that hand, ever. Finally, I hear that deep voice of his moaning my name in between kisses. I ran my hand across his hard chest and I felt his nipples harden underneath my touch. That prompted a whole new set of moans and grunts. I pulled away from the kiss and said the only words I could think at the moment:

"Love me, Bryson. Please."



I'm Not Gay Ch. 04



I pulled away from the kiss and said the only words I could think at the moment:

"Love me, Bryson. Please."

"I will, baby. I already do. Just not here. Our first time is not going to be in the cramped cab of my pickup truck." Bryson panted. My head cleared and I looked around. He was right. It wasn't exactly a romantic locale. I moved over into my seat and buckled my seat belt. I put my hands in my lap, but Bryson grabbed one of them and held it in his and he began driving. I didn't know where he was headed, but I knew it was somewhere we were going to have sex. That thought intrigued and frightened me. I was what you would call sexually inexperienced, or a virgin in layman's terms. I hadn't told Bryson and I guessed that he hadn't figured it out himself. I figured that we would just cross that bridge when we came to it. As I finished my thought, I realized we had come to a stop. We were parked outside a beautiful Victorian style house with one of those wonderful wraparound porches I love. I always just imagine sitting out there and reading a book on a porch swing. Speaking of porch swings, there was a faint creaking sound as the porch swing on this house rocked in the breeze. 

"Where are we, Bry? Is this one of the houses you're renovating? We can't...do it here" I cringed at my use of "do it" to describe sex. I couldn't have been more blatantly virginal if I wore white and a sign saying "VIRGIN!" on my chest. 

"No, this is actually my house. I bought it a couple years ago and have been renovating it little by little every since. I just loved the character of the house and I loved the wraparound porch. It's just so cozy and old-fashioned." He finished with a smile. He was looking lovingly at the house. I was jealous of that look, but I couldn't help but think about how we both loved the wraparound porch. We walked up to the door and, once we got inside, we stood there in awkward anticipation. Neither of us knew quite how to proceed from there. I'm sure he was expecting me, as the more experienced in homosexuality, to take the lead and I was expecting him, as the more experienced in any kind of sexuality, to take the lead. I decided honesty was the best policy. 

"I'm a virgin!" Well, maybe not that honest. I had practically screamed it at him with no preface. He tried to hide his look of shock, but I could see it clearly in his expression that he didn't know what to do with that information. "I know I'm a freak. I'm 26 years old and I've never had sex before. I've kissed a few guys, but no one's ever even seen me naked. I'm a virgin. A 26 year-old virgin. Oh god, like that movie, except I'm not 40-" My rambling was cut off by a groan from Bryson. He moved closer to me and pulled me into an embrace. 

"You have no idea how much of a turn-on that is, do you? Just the thought that I'll be the first person to see you, to touch you, to make love to you. I could come from just thinking about it." He practically moaned the words and, just like that, the previous amorous mood was reinstated. He started walking me to a room in the back of the house that I assumed was a bedroom. He pulled me to the center of the room and I started looking around. It was a large room with simple furniture. I really liked it. It just felt comfortable. I finished my perusal of the room and looked over at Bryson to find him staring back at me. Before he noticed I was watching him, I saw a little bit of that loving look that I thought was only reserved for his wraparound porch. He straightened up and moved towards me. I felt an overwhelming urge to move backwards but I didn't know why. I suppose I was scared. I wanted to be with Bryson, but even more than that I didn't want to disappoint him. My hesitation must have shown. 

"Is something wrong, Noah? Do you not want this? I'm not here to rush you. I'm sorry. You tell me you're a virgin and I bring you back to my bedroom. You were looking for support and I act like a complete horn dog. I'm so sorry." Bryson looked truly torn up.

I interrupted him by grabbing his hand, "It's alright. I wasn't looking to slow down things. I just am...scared. I don't want to mess this up. You're so hot and I'm sure you've been with countless women that were more experienced than me. What if I'm not any good?" I couldn't believe that I was saying these things to Bryson. 

"You're so adorable, Bunny." I rolled my eyes and Bryson continued, "I know you don't like it, but it's true. That doesn't mean that I don't also find you incredibly sexy. I'm not going to lie, I have more experience than you, but I'm technically a virgin to gay sex. Can we just work through this together?" He moved closer and cupped my face. Our lips touched and it was so sweet and tender that it was almost painful. We pulled away and our foreheads touched. Bryson moved his hands up to my shirt and began unhooking buttons. We maintained eye contact while he undressed me. I started to get nervous as he unbuttoned my pants, but Bryson kissed me softly to calm my nerves. He surprised me by pulling down my pants and my boxers in one fell swoop. I was suddenly completely naked in front of the man of my dreams. How did I get here? 

Bryson stepped back and just looked for a few seconds. I twitched nervously under his gaze. I jumped a little when he said, "You are so beautiful. It's so cheesy, but it's true. I've never seen someone so beautiful. It just about gives me a heart attack to know that no one has ever seen this sight before." With that, Bryson just about gave me a heart attack by dropping down on his knees and kissing my erection. Throughout all the inspection, I had managed to get rock hard despite my nerves. I shivered when I felt Bryson's lips exploring the entire expanse of my hips. 

I stuttered out, "Bryson, no...you don't have to-ah...please." Bryson chuckled and continued on in his quest to drive me out of my mind. I lost all of the breath in my lungs when he took me in his mouth. I had never had this done to me before and the wet heat of his mouth was an entirely new sensation for me. It only got better as he moved his mouth up and down my erection. I'm not very big, only about 5 or 6 inches hard. He didn't take the whole thing in his mouth, but I couldn't have been more pleased. This was fairly obvious, as I got closer to coming. "Bryson, please, I'm going to...oh god. That's good." As I finished panting, I let out a displeased cry as Bryson pulled away from me and stood up. 

"I'm sorry, baby, but I want to be looking in your eyes when you come for the first time from being with me. This may be a little awkward, but how are we doing this? Would you like to be the top?" Bryson asked curiously. 

I appreciated that Bryson would offer me up that kind of power and leave himself so vulnerable, but honestly the thought of being the top terrified me. I certainly didn't know how to top and make it good. "No, I think it would be better with you as the top," I offered. 

"Okay, thank you. Lay down on the bed, Bunny." He smiled at my exasperated expression as I climbed onto the bed and laid on my back, looking up at Bryson. 

"Um, Bryson, can you maybe take off some clothing? I'm completely naked and you're fully clothed...not really fair." I said coyly. Bryson began taking his clothes off and, when he pulled his shirt off and revealed that muscular chest, I licked my lips. He was so sexy and attractive. What in the world was he doing with me? I came back to full consciousness when I realized he had stopped undressing. 

"What am I doing with you? Are you kidding?" Bryson said. I had unintentionally voiced my thoughts. I grimaced at my faux pas. "Seriously, Noah, you have no idea how amazing you are. I'm lucky to be with you, not the other way around. Please stop thinking of this as some sort of charity case or act of insanity on my part." I nodded as he finished his rant and he seemed pleased.

With that, he stripped the rest of his clothes off. Bryson Ganton naked was a sight to behold. He was muscular, but not a musclehead. He was little covered in hair, but not furry. I felt like Goldilocks. He was just perfect for me. I looked down to his groin area and I started to get a little worried. He was about 8 inches hard and the sight of his hard cock made me worry about it fitting. I wasn't made of rubber. I'm also not exactly hard to read. Bryson started chuckling at my nervous expression. 

"It's going to be fine, Bunny. This is going to be great," Bryson said as he climbed on top of me. "I'm going to prepare you. It might hurt a little bit. Do you trust me?" I nodded and Bryson kissed me passionately. At once, my mind was clouded with lust and sensation. He moved down my jaw and found an especially sensitive spot by my ear. I felt his hands move my legs up and he began stroking my inner thigh. It was a soothing motion, but I couldn't help but tense up. Bryson once again kissed my lips lightly and I relaxed again. Bryson reached around me and into his nightstand to grab lube and a condom. He resumed kissing my neck and I heard a squirting noise and then I felt the slightly cold liquid on my hole. He pushed with one finger and it slid in to the first knuckle. I was a virgin, but I had experimented so one finger wasn't necessarily uncomfortable for me. I got caught up in his mouth on my neck and, suddenly, there were two fingers working their way in and out of my body, scissoring. 

"Please, Bryson. Just do it," I panted. 

"Do what, Bunny?" Bryson asked with an insincere curious expression.

I growled and, with very little patience, said, "Just make love to me, Bryson. Fuck me. Whatever you want to call it. It's time. I want it. I want you." With that, Bryson's expression became very serious. He donned a condom and moved to kneel in front of me. He spread more lube on my hole and spread lube on his cock. He lined up and, while looking me square in the eye, pushed in slowly and gently. It felt very...strange. It was painful, but there was this faint hint of pleasure teasing me. I tried to relax as much as possible and ran my hands up and down Bryson's muscular arms. 

He started shivering and he gasped out, "You are so tight. You feel so good, Noah. I love you. I just love you so much." My heart almost exploded from the upsurge of love I was experiencing for Bryson. I don't know how I ever denied the possibility of us being together. I pulled him down for a kiss and he began thrusting slowly. The pain was slowly fading and the pleasure was rising to the surface. I started to moan and, if I had been in my right mind, I would have been embarrassed by the sounds coming out of my mouth. However, Bryson was making equally as passionate sounds and we were moving together as if we were one being. Bryson reached down and grabbed my cock and began a stroking motion that was just too much for my overwhelmed senses. As the stroking and thrusting became simultaneously faster, I felt that familiar tingle in my groin area.

"Bryson, I'm going to come. It's just-ah-too much. Oh, Bryson. God! AH!" I came with a power that I have never experience in my little sexual experiments. When I came down from my peak, I heard Bryson's moans and panty breaths increasing in volume. On a loud groan, he came and I secretly wished that we didn't have to use a condom and that I could have felt him come inside me. However, safety first and all that jazz. Bryson collapsed on top of me and I savored the heavy weight of my lover. We lay together and recovered from our physical exertions. After a minute, Bryson moved off of me and rolled onto his back. I rolled onto my side to look at Bryson. His body language seemed relaxed, but, when I looked up to his face, I saw a strange expression on his face. It was familiar. It was the same look he had that night at the fire pit when he had kissed me and then regretted it. Was he regretting making love? 

"Are you okay? You seem different." I asked nervously. 

"Yeah, babe. I'm fine. I'm just tired. That wore me out." He gave me a peck on the lips and lay back with his eyes closed. I couldn't help but be a little confused. I didn't know what he was feeling. On one hand, he looked panicked and we weren't exactly cuddling and basking in our afterglow. We weren't even touching right now. On the other hand, he had called me babe and gave me a kiss. If he were regretting being with me, he wouldn't have done that? I felt like a high school girl, trying to decipher my boyfriend's behavior. This was exactly what I was trying to avoid with Bryson. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life questioning whether he actually wanted to be with me. 

I turned to look at his face and I realized that he had fallen fast asleep. I laid there for a few hours just thinking and staring at him, unable to sleep. I moved off of the bed and gathered my clothes as I walked into the bathroom. I dressed in the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I looked...well, thoroughly sexed up. And thoroughly unhappy at the moment. I was really worried that I had just opened myself up to a world of heartbreak. I moved away from the mirror and out into the bedroom again. I walked over to the bed and stared down at my new lover. Or ex-lover. I don't know what to call him at this point. In my two hours of thinking, I determined that Bryson, despite my warnings, had gotten himself too far into a situation that he couldn't handle. I didn't want to force him into a relationship that he wasn't ready for or didn't even want. I was going to leave now to avoid the awkward morning after and I was going to give him the chance to move on and forget this ever happened. It was going to kill me. 

I walked through the house and out the front door. I didn't realize until I got outside that I didn't drive there. I took out my cell phone and called a cab. I walked over to the porch swing and I sat down. Because I'm apparently a masochist, I started imagining what life would be like if I lived in this house with Bryson and our children. How I could sit on this porch swing and read while I watched Bryson run around with our two children: one boy and one girl. I imagined that, afterwards when the kids had run off to play with our dog, Bryson would walk up and draw me off the porch swing to give a sweet, tender kiss. We would go into the kitchen and cook dinner together. At night, we would read to the children before sending them off to the bed. We would move towards our own room and make passionate love. After, we would bask in the loving afterglow and there would be no awkward silences and panicked expressions. My musings were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. I whipped my head around and I saw Bryson heading towards me wearing only a pair of boxers that I recognized as my own. I must have grabbed his in the confusing jumble of our clothing. 

"You ran away, Bunny. What's with that?" He asked as he sat down next to me on the porch swing. He looked sleep-rumpled and cute. Mostly, he looked hurt. 

"How did you know I was out here?" I asked, avoiding his question. 

"I heard the swing. It's a little creaky. You avoided my question. Why did you leave? I thought this meant something." He said sincerely. 

"So did I. But afterwards, you looked so panicked and regretful. It was the same expression you had the night you kissed me and then told me that you weren't gay. I was worried that you were going to wake up and tell me that you wished it had never happened and that you were going to return to your heterosexual life. Speaking of, what was with you just going to sleep? It was weird. It threw me off. I figured that I didn't need to stick around for the rejection. I get it." I finished. 

"Do I ever just get time to think with you, babe? I was a little quiet, yes, maybe a little too quiet. For that, I am sorry. I'm not rejecting you, I was just thinking. We just made a huge step forward in our relationship. I needed some time to process that, but I should have shared what I was going through with you. I didn't mean to make you worried. Come back to bed, please." Bryson said. He had grabbed my hand at the start of his statement and, as he finished, I was looking down at our joined hands. It was such a wonderful, hopeful sight. 

"I called a cab," I said numbly. 

"We can fix that. Just call them back and cancel the cab. Spend the night with me. Please don't turn this into a one-night stand. I want you here with me, Bunny." He said with a squeeze to my hand.

"Ok, fine. On one condition: you stop calling me Bunny." I said adamantly. He nodded and I flipped my phone open and cancelled the cab. 

We walked into the house and, as we were climbing back into his bed, Bryson spoke again: "By the way, I make no promises on the Bunny front. Even you storming out of here was too adorable for me to not call you Bunny." I tackled him into the mattress and we began a long night of lovemaking. I promised myself that I would start living my life more out in the open starting tomorrow. I couldn't hide this part of my life, not now.



I'm Not Gay Ch. 05



 Noah Ganton, Noah Thompson-Ganton, Mr. and Mr. Ganton, Noah and Bryson Ganton, or would he change his name to Bryson Thompson?

I had been coming up with alternatives in my head for an hour like a giddy schoolgirl doodling on her Trapper keeper. I had decided that I would take his name because I couldn't imagine him being named anything but Bryson Ganton. I looked over at the object of my thoughts as he slept peacefully next to me. Last night, we had sex two more times, before I finally admitted I was too sore to do it again. Bryson was a wonderful lover. He's patient and gentle, but so passionate and giving. It was the time right after he brought me in from the porch that I first tried giving him a blowjob. 

 I looked in front of me at Bryson's cock. It was huge. Was that normal? I mean, I know the guys in porn always had huge cocks, but that can't be normal. How was I supposed to fit that all in my mouth? I suddenly felt like maybe I had an abnormally small mouth. 

"Noah, baby, not to rush you, but you do plan on doing more than look at it, right?" Bryson asked hopefully. I startled at his question and looked up at him with a smile. I swatted his thigh playfully. 

"I'm strategizing." I said. 

"It's not a football play, Bunny. It's a blowjob," he so helpfully pointed out as he stroked my hair. As if I would even know how to start strategizing a football play. I reached forward and grabbed the base of it with my hands. I'd heard that it was supposed to be like licking a lollipop so I started there. I started at the base of the bottom of his penis and licked my way up to the head. Bryson gasped and moaned, so I figured I was doing something right. I licked my way around his penis from bottom to top and it drove him crazy each time. I was even getting a little into it at that point. I stuck the head in my mouth and licked around the edge. I loved hearing the pleased sounds from Bryson's mouth. He had given me so much pleasure that I wanted to return what little pleasure I could to him. I could tell I was doing a good job because the hand in my hair had changed from gentle strokes to a death grip. I started letting the head of the penis go deeper into my mouth. I was, by no means, ready to deep-throat, but I figured a little deeper would be good enough. I used my right hand to fondle his balls, while my left hand stroked up and down his thigh. I felt his thigh tense up and he stuttered a nonsensical warning. 

I think back on it now and I very much should have known what his blabbering was about, but I didn't. The first shot of come was a bit of a shock and I choked on it a little bit. After that, though, I got the message and started swallowing his load. He tasted wonderful to me. I'd always thought the idea of swallowing was a bit repulsive, but it seemed so natural in the moment. He pulled me up from my knees and tried to give me a kiss. I didn't want to gross him out so I turned my head. I had just swallowed the man's sperm, for Christ's sake! He just pulled my lips back to his and gave me a passionate kiss. He pulled me towards the bed and began doing unspeakably pleasurable things to my body As I pulled myself out of my daydream, the object of said daydream was waking up. He rolled over to me and pulled me into his arms as he made his waking up groans. I've discovered that he has a series of adorable little grunts and groans that he makes while he is waking up. He's almost like a bear waking up from hibernation. 

He inhaled and said, "Hey darling, how much I owe you for last night?"

"How lucky I am to be with someone who is so clever. What did I ever do to deserve you?" I asked sarcastically. He chuckled and pulled me closer. 

"So, what's the plan for today? Are we telling everyone?" he asked. 

I thought about it and answered, "I would like to tell everyone. However, I want to meet up with Alex first and explain last night." I figured I owed the poor man. I had basically attacked him in the strip club and demanded a date and then ditched him at the restaurant. I got out of bed and grabbed my cell phone. I shot off a text to Alex asking to meet in two hours at the coffee shop. 

"No. You're not going on a date. Are you kidding?" Bryson sat up and looked at me with a severely grumpy face. 

"It's not a date, psycho. I have to explain why some crazed lunatic pulled me out of a perfectly nice date and I didn't call him later. He probably thinks you murdered me." I said. I heard my phone ding and I read a text from Alex, agreeing to meet me. 

"Fine, but only for like a half an hour. Meet for coffee, say 'That guy was my boyfriend. Back the fuck off!' and then leave. Then we can tell your family." 

"Oh yes. That's the perfect thing to say. Thank you! I was so worried about how I would explain it." I got out of bed and grabbed my clothes. "Ok, you need to drive me back to my house though because I'm meeting him in two hours."

Bryson begrudgingly got dressed and we hopped in the car and went to my house. When we walked into the house, Bryson went straight to the kitchen while I went to grab a shower. After getting ready, I walked into the kitchen and found Bryson shoving his face with my mom's leftovers. 

"You're endlessly charming." I said derisively. 

"Hey, I need my energy. I scored last night and my lay for the evening was particularly vivacious. A tiger in bed, I tell you," he said through a mouth of food. Once he swallowed, he got up and moved towards me. I put my arms around his neck as he slid his hands around my waist to the small of my back right above my butt. "You look awfully nice to be going on a date with another man." 

"Once again, it's not a date. It's the opposite of a date. It's a rejection." I said before pecking him on the lips. Right as our lips touched, we heard footsteps in the hallway and had just enough time to pull our heads apart before my brother walked into the kitchen. He stopped short and looked at the two of us embracing with a look of deep confusion. I figured this was the perfect time to tell Dean about us, but apparently Bryson had a different plan. 

"Dude, your brother has a date. I was just giving him a hug to congratulate him. Little Thompson, getting some ass." He pulled me into a rough hug and slapped me on the back a couple of times. Dean looked considerably less confused and just nodded his head. 

"Congratulations, little brother. Isn't that a little weird though? The wedding is tomorrow and then you only have a couple more days until you head back to the city." Dean pointed out. At the mention of me heading back to the city, Bryson's fork clattered to the table. I think he had forgotten that I don't live in town anymore. 

"We're just friends. It won't be awkward." I said. "Anyways, I have to go meet him. I'll see you both later." I looked over at Bryson and he refused to make eye contact. I think he was trying not to make Dean suspicious. On one hand, it made sense. This wasn't the perfect time to tell Dean. On the other hand, I was pissed off. It may not have been the perfect time, but Bryson was so excited to tell everyone this morning and now, when the opportunity arose, he acted like he was pleased to be sending me into the arms of Alex. I think I was also pissy because Dean had reminded me of one more obstacle to mine and Bryson's relationship. I live in the city and he lives in Brawnee Falls. How would we date? I don't think I could move back here and be truly happy and Bryson had always lived in Brawnee Falls and, as far as I know, always would. 

I arrived at the coffee shop five minutes early and I sat down to read a book. I couldn't really focus well because of all the thoughts bouncing around in my head. I looked up at Alex's approach. He took one look at my emotionally tortured face and pulled me up into a hug. This man was a godsend. I shuddered out a breath, trying not to cry. I pulled back from the hug and sat down as Alex joined me in the other chair at the table. 

"Thanks," I said, "I didn't realize how much I needed one of those."

"You looked it. So, let me guess, he's not exactly straight." Alex said with a knowing look on his face. 

"How did you know?!" I figured he would have just assumed it was a family emergency like I had last night. 

"Intuition. Also, I know you wouldn't be meeting up with me today if any of your family had been hurt. Plus, you have the look of someone whose heart is torturing their mind." 

"Oh god, Alex, he's driving me crazy. One moment I'm crazy in love with him and the next minute I want to literally strangle him. He's got me second guessing my feelings and everything I say. He's hot one minute and cold the next. I can't tell if he wants to be with me or not. I've never been this confused. From the very start, I felt that he was just a confused straight guy that was going to break my heart and part of me still feels that way, but he's gone so much further with it than I thought he would. I feel like there's me and then there's the person I am when he looks at me and I can't make those two people be the same person. I'm unhappy because I'm confused and I'm scared, but I'm deliriously happy that this beautiful man wants me for even a minute. Sometimes, I think I want to go back to the time when he was just my brother's best friend, but then I think about it and I was just straight up unhappy then with no silver lining. I'm not even making sense anymore. Who am I? I used to be so smart." I finished with a pathetic whine. 

"No one's smart when it comes to love. Doctor, janitor, old, young, girl, boy: we're all helpless dumbasses when we fall in love. You, my friend, have a particularly serious case of dumbass," he finished with a smile. 

"I know. I'm sorry. I came here to apologize. Not to unload all my problems on you. I shouldn't have rushed out on our date like that. If I had known that there was no emergency, I never would have left. It was all a trick by him to get me to talk to him. He's a crazy person. I think that's one of the things I love most about him: his innate ability to go from 0 to 60 in no time. He just admitted that he loves me and he's already got me in such turmoil. It's a gift," I laughed. 

"Not a problem. I wasn't expecting the date to go anywhere. I knew you were in love with him, but I enjoy your company. Clearly, he loves you if he was willing to go to that much trouble. Tell me the whole story. Every detail. We'll see if we can't work something out." I've never had someone make me open up to him in that way before. As cliché as it sounds, this was the start of a beautiful friendship between Alex and I. 

About three hours went by until I was completely finished with my story. Alex sat back and just said, "Wow. You're fucked."

I laughed incredulously and said, "Alex! Not helpful. I know that I'm fucked. I was hoping that you would have sage advise to get me out of this mess."

"Ok, ok, let's see. It sounds like he sincerely wants to be with you, but he's confused. I think that, when he's just talking to you about it, he's as confident as can be that he can just come out to the world, Brawnee Falls included, with no problem. However, when he's faced with the actuality of doing it, he feels slightly less invisible. I think you and him need to openly and honestly discuss what telling people would mean for him and you. You're not exactly openly gay in Brawnee Falls either. If he still says he wants to do it, then you need to stop doubting him and trust in him. If he wants out of your relationship, then you have to suck it up and let him go. He's not ready for you. You'll go home to the city and find someone else." It all sounded so simple when Alex laid it out like that. 

I nodded my head and thought about my options. I liked the open honesty, but I wasn't pleased with the scenario that ended in me giving up Bryson. He was like a bad drug. I thought I was just a social user and could stop any time I wanted, but deep down I knew I was hooked. It looks like Bryson and I had a lot to talk about. 

"Alright, Alex, you are literally a miracle worker and a great friend. I'm sorry again about last night. I have to go though. I think I can still catch him at my house." I finished my goodbyes to Alex with a hug and headed out of the coffee shop. When I got back to my house, I realized that Bryson's car was gone. I walked into the living room and Dean was watching TV on the couch. 

"Where's Bryson?" I asked. 

"He left. He waited around for about an hour and a half after you left. He was driving me crazy. First, he was all moody and weird and then, about an hour after you left, he started pacing in front of the window. Then, finally, he got really angry and left in a huff without even saying goodbye. That was about two hours ago." Dean finished. 

"Yeah, that's weird. Do you think he was headed home?" I asked. 

"I don't know" I headed out the door to go find Bryson and then I heard my brother say, "Where are you going? I was kind of hoping we could hang out tonight. It's my last night before I'm a married man and you'll be leaving soon. I was kind of hoping I could hang out with you and Brys tonight, but since he's bugging out, it's just you and me. What do you say, little brother?" 

I thought about it and I felt awful. I'd been so focused on Bryson this whole trip that I hadn't dedicated any time to hanging out with my brother in his last days of being single. I would just have to talk to Bryson at the wedding. He would definitely be there, if Ashley had to drag him by the balls. I sat down on the couch and watched TV with my brother. We laughed and joked and for the first time this trip, since the morning at the river, I forgot about all of my Bryson troubles and just relaxed with my brother. We started talking about my life and he asked about my love life. I so wanted to tell him about Bryson, but I had a feeling Bryson didn't want him to know. Momentarily, I considered the fact that, if Bryson and I were in the relationship we had discussed last night and early this morning then I should be able to tell people, including my brother. Why did I have to wait for his permission? But, I couldn't go through with it. I knew that would hurt Bryson and I couldn't do that knowingly. I just told my brother I was single and we moved on. 

That night, I laid in bed and I planned all of the things I wanted to say to Bryson. I fell asleep before I really cemented everything I wanted to say. I woke up pretty late the next morning. The wedding wasn't until noon and all I had to do was shower and put on a tux. I waited in our lobby as my family prepared to leave for the church and each of Dean's five groomsmen showed up. Bryson didn't show up until the last minute before we had to leave. There was no time to talk to him in private. We all got in the limo to drive to the church. I was on the opposite side of the limo from Bryson and I tried to catch his eye. I was hoping for a nod, a small reassuring smile, or really any sign that he knew I existed. He pointedly avoided my stares. 

I was too distracted by my heartbreak to really notice much about the ceremony. The church was big and beautiful. Ashley looked gorgeous and my brother looked deliriously happy. I sat, kneeled, and stood at the right moments. I dutifully smiled until my cheeks hurt for pictures. The majority of the time during the ceremony, I looked at Bryson. I memorized the shape of his face, the curves and angles of his body, and the exact color of his eyes and hair. I felt an inexplicable sense of doom. 

After the ceremony, we once again barreled into the limo and arrived at the reception hall. I sat at the table for a little bit and chatted with some family members. I went to the bathroom and found Bryson sitting on a chair in the corner of the very fancy men's room with his head in his hands. He looked up when I opened the door. He quickly moved to the sink and started washing his hands. I moved up to him and put my hand in the center of his back. He jumped at my touch and moved away towards the paper towels. My hand was left hanging in midair, as if I had been touching a ghost. I looked over at him with a hurt and confused look on my face. 

"How was your  date with Alex? It ran a little long to just be a rejection." He said viciously. I could smell a decent amount of alcohol on him and I wondered just how much he had drank that night. 

"We got to talking and I just got caught up. He's a great guy." I said.

"Yeah, I'm sure he is. Did you fuck him?" he snapped out. 

I reeled like he had just spit in my face. I had never heard something so cruel and obnoxious come out of Bryson's mouth, especially directed towards me. "No, asshole, I didn't fuck him. We just talked. Like I said, he's a really great guy. He's just a good friend"

"Great. I'm curious how many 'good friends' you'll find when you head back to the city. How many 'good friends' you get down on your knees or on your back for. I knew you were too good at cock-sucking to be a virgin. Probably just one giant act. I'm sure that you just talked to Alex today. Be real, Noah." I couldn't believe he was being so hateful. I backed up towards the door.

"I am being real. I don't know why you're doing this and why you're being this way, but the reason I was talking so long with Alex was that I was telling him how much I loved you, how crazy I was about you, and just how much I wanted to be with you. He was incredibly supportive, even though I was so stupid to get involved in something I knew was going to end badly. I knew you would do this. I knew you would turn on me. I warned you! I warned you and you still dragged us into this relationship." He scoffed at the word "relationship".

I looked at him one last time, leaning heavily on the counter and glaring at me. "Bryson Ganton, whether you want to admit it or not, you were in a relationship with me. A completely misguided relationship, but a relationship nonetheless. Don't worry, though, you've effectively ended it with your behavior tonight. It wasn't an act. I was a virgin before you and, because I loved you with all my heart, I gave myself to you body and soul. I think that was the biggest mistake I ever made." With that said, I walked out the door. I collected my thoughts before walking back into the reception hall. I faked my way through the rest of the night. I danced with Ashley and my mother. I drank a beer with my father and a few cousins. I clapped as the happy couple kissed and speeches were made. Bryson's speech was short, but well said considering the amount of alcohol he obviously consumed. At the end of the night, I went home with my parents and went to bed. I laid in bed and looked at my ceiling. I didn't think. I had no thoughts. There were no perfect words or emotions to describe the way I was at that time. I just stared. I was becoming proficient at staring. 

In the morning, I surprised both of my parents by saying I was leaving. I had promised to stay a few days after the wedding to bond with my family without the craziness of the wedding taking over our time. I told them that something had come up with work and I had to go back early. The truth was that I had taken a two-week vacation from work with barely a need to call and check in. The truth was that I was running like a dog with my tail between my legs. I didn't want to stay in Brawnee Falls and continuously relive my failure. I had given myself into fantasy and I had been burned. At least, I got rid of my virginity. I suppose that was a plus. 

On my drive home, I thought of Bryson. As always. At times, both in my youth and in these past couple of days, I had had the brief and fantastical thought that I was made with the soul purpose of loving Bryson. It was the only thing I had ever been truly exceptional at. In my youth, there was always hope that Bryson would realize he loved me and I could finally fulfill my purpose. Well, that had happened. Now here I was driving on an empty highway towards a job I hate in a city I hate, with no purpose but to keep on breathing and not let myself die of the heartache.



I'm Not Gay Ch. 06



 I'm so sorry that this has taken so long. I've been incredibly busy with school. I'm not sure whether this will be the ending that everyone has been hoping for or not. However, I hope you enjoy it. I won't be writing for a while after this is posted because I'll be finishing up my last year at college. Sorry! Let me know your thoughts as always. Thank you for your time! 



I quit my job. I just quit with no warning and no plan. It was two days ago after I got back from Brawnee Falls. Originally, I planned on using my remaining vacation time as "me time". Then I realized that I didn't really want to spend time with "me" right now. So I called my office and planned to end my vacation early. I started that day like any other. I wasn't happy with my job, but it paid the bills and I was good at it. However, that day, everything felt wrong. Everything that had previously irritated me felt increased tenfold. 

I started thinking  Why am I here? What purpose is this serving? I deserve better than this. If the whole Bryson debacle taught me anything, it's that I deserve to be happy. I decided right then that I wouldn't ever be happy with my life as a whole if I was unhappy with any aspect of it. I needed to find work that made me feel purposeful. Work would never be a party, but it could at least feel better than this. I got up from my desk and moved towards my boss's office. We had a very brief discussion. I had never had much of an effect at the office because I had been so unhappy there. He didn't argue to keep me, but he did say that he would miss such a hard worker. I would work for the next two weeks and then my time would be my own. After I got out of work that day, I called Alex. 

I heard Alex's voice say "Hello?"

"I quit my job."

"Well, hello then. I think that's a good thing. You hated it anyway. Do you have any idea what you're going to do?"

"Not exactly. I decided today that I wanted to quit so I just...did it. I've never made a decision like that before. It's kind of exhilarating. I've been thinking about it, though. I have enough savings to last me for a while. I'm going to take my time and look for a job that really interests me. I think I might like to do something more in the lines of advertising and less direct PR. I don't really know, though." I had been thinking about it ever since I quit that day. I enjoyed the marketing aspects of my job. There was something else that I'd been thinking about and I brought that up to Alex. "I also think I might want to move out of the city?"

"And go where?" Alex asked

"I don't know. Anywhere. I've been thinking that it might be nice to move a little closer to home. It was really nice seeing my family."

"Then, do it! Move here to Brawnee Falls, Noah. You can be happy here. I've almost got 75% of the town smiling at me in public. I'm making so much progress." Alex joked. 

"You know I can't move to Brawnee Falls, Alex. Bryson is in Brawnee Falls. I just meant somewhere near there." I finished with a cringe. It still hurt when I said his name. 

"Oh, did he get Brawnee Falls in the divorce? That's ridiculous, Noah. This is your hometown, too." Alex huffed. 

"I'll think about it." I said, but I knew that I wouldn't think about it. I wasn't ready to move back to Brawnee Falls and see Bryson every day. 

I got off the phone with Alex right as I was arriving at my apartment. After I entered my apartment and closed the door, I sighed and looked around. My apartment was kind of a mess. I suppose it was some sort of analogy for how my heart and mind were at the moment. Being that my mission was to stop just accepting unhappiness, I decided to clean up. For the past couple nights, I had been sitting here sulking and thinking of Bryson. 

After I cleaned up, I began my search for a new job. I did research into different jobs and decided that I was definitely looking for something in the marketing/advertising field. The next two weeks passed pretty quickly. Besides researching potential jobs, I had to research places to live. I knew I didn't want to stay in Chicago. I wasn't happy here and I had very little tying me here besides my apartment, for which I had to find a sub-letter. I talked to Alex multiple times and he always tried to persuade me to move back to Brawnee Falls, even going so far as to give my name and number to a friend of his who owned an advertising agency in the town over. I could live in Brawnee Falls and commute there in 15 minutes. I was tempted, but then I would consider the pain that would accompany seeing Bryson again and I would reconsider. Finally, I decided that it couldn't hurt to call the owner and get an idea of what the job would entail. The owner's name was John and I could tell 5 minutes into the conversation that this job was an awesome opportunity. It was a better salary and more interesting work. John seemed great and we really got along. He offered me the job, but I wasn't ready to commit. I asked him if I could think about it and get back to him. I hung up the phone and sat on my floor. I had already started packing some stuff up and, as I looked around my apartment, I realized just how alone I was. I deserved to be around people that loved me. I had so much waiting for me in Brawnee Falls: my parents, my brother, and my newfound friendship with Alex. I didn't have to see Bryson if I didn't want to. I could live in the town that the agency was in and just drive the 15 minutes to go see my family. I could insure that Bryson wasn't there when I went to visit. I had made my decision. I was going to live my life for me now. I wasn't stupid. I knew that I would eventually see Bryson, but I would cross that bridge when I came to it. I called John back and accepted the job. I planned to start in a month, which gave me enough time to sublet my apartment and find an apartment down there. 

I called Alex to tell him the good news.

"You took the job? So you'll be living in Brawnee Falls?", he asked.

"No. I'm going to live in Fairfield, where the agency is, but I'll come see you guys all the time."

"Noah, I know I've been pushing you towards this. But are you sure you're ready?" he asked, with concern in his voice. "You know what, Alex? If I don't do it now, I never will. I want to do this and I'm not going to let Bryson affect my decisions anymore. You heard what happened. He screwed up, not me. It's been a month. He knows where I live. If he wanted me back, he would have done something. He wasn't ready to come out. I can't blame him. It's not like I'm open about my sexuality either. I just thought that it meant more, you know? I need to get over him, for good this time. He's my brother's best friend. I'll never be able to avoid him entirely." I said with a confidence I didn't know I had. I believed the words as I spoke them. I loved Bryson, but I couldn't let him destroy me. 

"That's good. Here's what you're going to do. You're going to take a week and find someone to sublet your apartment and then you come down here and stay with me until we can find you a place in Fairfield. You can hide out from Bryson if you want, but I want to hang out with you. Plus, I never liked the idea of you all alone with no friends up there in Chicago." I laughed at Alex's mother hen behavior.

"Ok, Mom. Sounds good." 

"You're a smart ass. I don't know why I'm friends with you. I'm a saint, I guess" Alex joked. 

"Goodbye, Saint Alex" I said and hang up. 

It only took me a week to get my apartment sorted out. I packed all of my stuff in my car. It was amazing how little belongings I actually had. I had rented a furnished apartment, so I only had knick-knacks to move. I would have to buy all new furniture when I got down to Fairfield. Maybe my mom could help me find that stuff. The thought of my mom sprucing up my apartment made me really happy. It gave me a sense of home that I hadn't had in a really long time. 

As I drove to Brawnee Falls, I considered my future. I needed to be open about my sexuality. I'd always thought that being open was shoving it down peoples' throats. I never wanted attention and I thought that, by admitting I was gay, I would be drawing everyone's attention to me. I never wanted to be defined by my sexuality. That was my biggest fear. I never wanted to be described as "gay" because that wasn't all that I was. Now, however, my experiences had taught me that, while I still don't want to be described only as "gay, it's nothing to be ashamed. I should be proud of who I am. Yes, I am a gay man. I'm also a smart, strong, creative, loving, caring, friendly, and funny man. The right people would describe me with the right adjectives. And I shouldn't worry about the wrong people. They could describe me however they want because I won't listen long enough to know. Brawnee Falls may not be ready for me to be gay, but I was ready to be gay in Brawnee Falls. If Alex could do it, then I could too. Granted Alex wasn't from Brawnee Falls, so there would be significantly more scandal once people found out that one of Brawnee Fall's own was a homosexual. I can't even imagine the uproar that would occur if Bryson ever came out, which was unlikely. 

I arrived at back in Brawnee Falls approximately a month after I'd left in such an emotional flurry. I felt a little tug on my heartstrings, but I wasn't as destroyed as I thought I'd be. I was learning more and more that I was stronger than I ever gave myself credit for. When I got to Alex's house, I grabbed my overnight bag and walked to the door. I knocked on the door and waited. I heard the shuffling of foot and a muffled curse as he ran into something. The door opened and all I could see was Alex's big smile and his outstretched arms. I dropped my bag and accepted a big hug. It was the first time I'd seen Alex since the whole Bryson debacle. Although we'd kept in touch and I considered him to be my best friend at the moment. As I stepped back from the hug and was reminded of just how attractive Alex was, I cursed my stupid mind and heart for not being sensible and just falling in love with Alex. He was clearly the better option. Alas, the heart wants what it wants. Better men than I have tried and failed to change their hearts. 

"How are you, kid?" Alex asked as he grabbed my bag from the floor and dragged me inside. 

"I'm...alright, I guess." I said. 

"Well, that's enthusiastic." Alex deadpanned. 

"I'm really actually fine. It hurts. Of course it does. It was like your favorite fairytale coming true only to crash around you later. I'm surprising myself, though. I'm stronger than I thought." 

"Of course you are. You're a strong person, Noah. You can get over him, assuming you actually want to get over him. There's no chance of reconciliation?" Alex asked hopefully. Alex had strangely always been a supporter of Grayson. He understood Grayson's shortcomings, but he always wanted to see the best in people. He always said that he felt possibility for Grayson and me. I didn't share his optimism, but I wanted to. 

"I don't think so. Who knows? I didn't think there was a chance of me sleeping with him either and look how that turned out."

"Touché. Let's go get something to eat." Alex said while putting his arm around me. 

For the next week, Alex and I looked at apartments around my workplace. Everything was either too small, too shabby, or the apartment building was inhabited by creatures from the blue lagoon. Not exactly what I was looking for. I was getting very disheartened. 

As we were driving back from looking at an apartment that looked like it belonged on Law and Order, I started seriously reconsidering my decision to move out here. Was it stupid? Was I doing the right thing? Would I be happ-

"STOP!" I practically screamed. 

Alex jammed on the brakes. Thank god there was nobody on the road behind us. I couldn't peel my eyes away from the window. I was looking at my home. In front of the car was a two-story Victorian house that was the perfect size with a wraparound porch. The most perfect part about it was the "For Sale" sign in the front yard. It looked old, but recently renovated. I walked up to the house and felt an instant connection. As I walked up the stairs and ran my hand along the railing, I was enraptured by the tale I had spun only a couple months ago involving Bryson, me, and our family on a wraparound porch that was very similar. Perhaps what I liked most about this house was that it reminded me of him. Maybe not healthy, but I didn't have to admit that to anyone but myself. As I pulled myself out of my reverie, I looked over at Alex. 

"Is this the one?" 

"I think so. I need to call the agent. I want this house."

"You haven't even seen the inside. What if it's falling apart?"

"Well, then, I know a strapping young gentleman, and by that I mean you, that will help me fix it up." I looked at him with pleading eyes. 

"Alright. Let's go back to my place. You can call the agent on the way."

I placed the call to the agent and we made plans for me to see the house the very next day. It was perfect because I really wanted to get things settled before I started work the day after next. After I hung up with the agent, I went into the kitchen to find Alex. He was working on dinner. 

"Well, I have plans to go see it tomorrow. Want to come?" 

"Sure, if you go before I have to work at 3." He said while stirring the noodles. 

"I never understood your work hours. People really go to a strip club at 3 in the afternoon?" I questioned.

"You'd be surprised." Alex laughed.

"Honestly, Alex, why are you working there? I don't mean to insult you, but you're so smart. Why aren't you doing something more than being a bartender?" I asked. It wasn't especially tactful, but I was stumped as to why Alex was working at a job that is so below his intellectual capabilities. 

"I'm just in transition, I guess. I can't figure out what I want out of my life. One day, I want to be a writer. The next day, I want to be a travel photographer. I'm too varied. I'll figure it out eventually, though." Alex shrugged. 

I didn't have anything to say to that, so I moved on. We talked about music, history, and movies. After a delicious dinner, we grabbed our glasses of wine and sat on the couch. We sat facing each other and talked about our hobbies. As our conversation tapered off, our eyes met. I was overwhelmed by how much we had in common and the urge to just be with someone who cared. We both leaned forward and our lips met. His lips were soft and warm. He was a good kisser. 

"So...that was..." I stammered. 

"Yeah, there was nothing there, was there?" Alex finished. 

"No. I'm sorry. I wanted there to be something there, but there's just no...spark. God, that's so cliché." I winced. 

"It's fine, Noah. We're friends. If there was something romantic between us, that would be an added bonus. I'm just happy to have you as a friend." 

"Alright, I'm going to bed. We're meeting the real estate agent at the house at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning." 

I hugged Alex and went to the guest room. As I lay in bed, I thought of Bryson. I haven't seen him in over a month and he still lingers in my life. I was doomed. I just have to accept my fate. Maybe once I'll get the house, I can buy 37 cats and turn into the crazy old man with a bunch of cats. I rolled over and tried to fall asleep. I had a big day tomorrow. 

In the morning, Alex and I met the real estate agent, Ashley, outside the house. She was a kind, middle-aged woman in a skirt suit. I got the same feeling I got yesterday when I drove by the house. It felt like a place that had meaning for me. I didn't know why. 

We walked in the front door and we were met with a small foyer that had a hallway with arches leading to the living room and dining room and a swinging door leading to the kitchen. There was a small bathroom downstairs, as well. There was a wooden staircase leading upstairs where there were two bedrooms and a bathroom. Every room was beautiful. The house had wooden floors throughout, except the wonderful tile floors in the bathrooms. Alex and I commented on each room and planned where furniture could go. I decided then and there to take the house. I knew these decisions were generally supposed to be more well thought out, but I'd been making well thought out decisions for the majority of my life and look at where that got me. I was standing in the living room while Ashley went to grab the paperwork when I felt arms surround me from behind. 

"You're going to be very happy here. It's a beautiful house. Ashley told me that it was just completely redone." Alex said as he hugged me. 

"Thank you." I said as I put my hands on the arms wrapped around my shoulders. 

We heard a little gasp and turned around to see Ashley standing there. I panicked. I had never let someone in Brawnee Falls see me with a man. This was a huge turning point. I decided not to be ashamed of it, though. Even though Alex and I weren't technically a couple, I had nothing to hide. I stared Ashley in the eye and dared her to question us. 

"I didn't realize you guys were a couple! Oh, that's so exciting! You guys are too cute. This house is perfect for a young couple. The neighborhood has a lot of kids too, if you are ever planning on adopting. Although, I read that a lot of gay couples are hiring surrogates nowadays." Ashley gushed. 

I moved to correct her about our relationship status, when Alex kissed me on the cheek and said, "We're still deciding on kids, but we love the house. It's the perfect place to start our life together."

I gawked at him and noticed the mischievous glint in his eye. He was playing a prank on poor sweet Ashley. I figured there was no harm in it so I played along. I hugged, flirted, and stared adoringly in all the right places. Ashley was dutifully charmed by our pretend love. She left the room and came back with all of the paperwork in her hand. 

"Well, everything looks to be in order. Only one more thing, the renovator of the house had one stipulation in selling the house. He wants to meet the people that are buying it beforehand to make sure that they're good people." I panicked once again at the thought of some burly construction worker denying me my house because we were a gay couple. "Don't worry, sweetie. I've just called him and discussed the fact that you two are homosexuals and he doesn't care. He said he just wants people who will treasure the house. I think you'll pass that test with flying colors. We'll meet at the house again tomorrow, if you don't mind."

We made plans to meet tomorrow at 10 in the morning. I worried the whole night. After Alex went to work, I sat on the couch and thought of a laundry list of things that I could do wrong tomorrow. They ran the gamut from throwing up on the renovator to setting the house ablaze accidentally. Completely ridiculous, but still in the realm of possibility. I finally wore myself out to the point that I could retire to bed. In the morning, I awoke with renewed energy and confidence. I would get this house if it killed me. 

We met at the house and Alex and I resumed our loving couple act. Alex thought it was funny and I obliged because I thought it was harmless. It seemed to truly fascinate Ashley. We were hugging and discussing our plans for children, when I heard someone clear their throat. I turned and my arms fell to my sides as all the blood left my face. Standing there was Bryson Ganton, love of my life, with an equally shocked look on his face. I saw the pain in his eyes as he looked from me to Alex. Oh god, Ashley told him we were a gay couple and he walked in on us planning our children's names. He doesn't know this is just a game. As I looked back into his face, he put up a stony wall. He moved into the room and said, "Well, this won't take as long as I thought. I know these two. They'll be great homeowners. Very happy together. Go ahead, Ash. Sell it to them. I wish them the best." He said the last part with a little bitterness as he was heading out of the door. I heard the front door open and close. I couldn't take it so I ran after him. As I pulled open the front door, I saw Bryson resting his head on his arms on the hood of his truck. 




I'm Not Gay Ch. 06



"Bryson, it's not what you think" I said quietly as I walked up to him. 

"How is it not what I think? You're buying a house with him, Noah. You were talking about children! He's the guy? He's the guy in your dreams that tucks in your children and plays with your dog? He's the guy on the porch? I know I was being stupid and jealous before. I tortured myself for weeks. I even drove up to Chicago to find you. I wanted to apologize because I thought we could really work if I pulled my head of my ass. But, now this? How long could you guys possibly have been dating that you're moving in together now? Do your parents know about this? Answer me!" He yelled. 

"Well, you haven't really given me a chance. Jeez! And you say I don't give people time to process things!" I screamed. I was planning on being soft and understanding, but there is nobody on this Earth that knows how to rile me up like Bryson. Through the haze of my anger, something poked at me. "Wait. Did you say you came to Chicago? To apologize?" 

"It doesn't matter now. I thought we could have something. I love you and I screwed up, but you're with him now."

"I'm not with Alex. It's just a stupid game we were playing. He came with me to see the house and Ashley thought we were a couple so we just played along. It was stupid and, now that I'm looking back on it, kind of mean to Ashley. Please, Bryson, you have to believe me. I'm not with Alex now, nor was I cheating on you with him a month ago." I finished desperately. I could see his shoulders slump and I knew he believed me. "So, you really came all the way to Chicago to apologize to me?"

He blushed and said, "Well, yeah. You're so important, Noah. You have no idea how important to me you are. Probably because I'm an inconsiderate jackass who never showed you how important you are-"

"Hey! You're not an inconsiderate jackass. Although, I probably thought that more than a few times in the last month. I'm not angry with you anymore, though. Alex has helped me see that you were really confused before. You really shouldn't hate him so much. He's been your biggest fan, lately." I smiled. 

"I don't hate him. I was just always jealous of him. You liked him so much and had so much in common with him. As an openly gay man, he could give you more than I could. I didn't treat you the way I should have, Noah. For that, I apologize. You're the smartest, nicest, most beautiful man I've ever met. I should have held onto you like you were my dying hope. But I let you slip through my fingers because I was drunk, angry, and careless with your feelings. Can you forgive me?" He pleaded. "Of course, Bryson." I felt awkward as I said it. What did this mean? Were we back together? Were we friends?

"So, you're not with Alex then? You're buying this house all by yourself?" He questioned. 

"Absolutely. I'm single." 

"Good." He moved towards me and wrapped me in his arms. He pressed me up against the door of the truck and pressed our foreheads together. "I want to kiss you so bad right now that I can taste the sweet honey flavor of your mouth already." I moved forward and he pressed his fingers on my mouth. "But I'm not going to kiss you right now. We're going to go on a date. A real date where everyone sees you and knows that you're dating. We're going to eat dinner, we're going to watch a movie, and we're going to make awkward conversation until it's time for me to bring you home and collect my kiss on the doorstep." He smiled at that. I let out a disappointed groan. The date sounded wonderful, but a kiss sounded better right then. 

"How soon can we go on this date?" I asked eagerly. 

He chuckled and said, "What are you doing tonight? I can pick you up at 7."

"Deal." 

Alex walked out of the house with Ashley in tow. He had explained the real situation to her and I apologized profusely for our stupid little joke. She was very understanding and we made plans to meet in a couple of days to discuss the house. Bryson stayed mysteriously quiet about the house. After Ashley got in her car and left, Bryson turned to Alex. 

"Are you after Noah?" Bryson blurted out. 

"Bryson!" I exclaimed. 

Alex laughed and said, "Not after the kiss we shared. Yawn-worthy, I promise you." 

"Alex!" I was mortified and a little worried at Bryson's reaction. 

Bryson turned to me and said, "So, you've kissed?" 

"Yes. Just once. Well, I guess, we've technically kissed twice. The first time was before we got together, though. The second time was last night. We tried it out and it was awful." At this, Alex made an offended noise. "Alex, you know it was bad. Bryson, I swear, it meant nothing. I was upset about you and I thought it would be so easy if I could just love Alex. And I do, as a friend. But not the way I love you. Although, at least Alex is willing to kiss me. You're making me wait to date you." I huffed. 

"While I'm not crazy that you're kissing other men, I can get over it." Bryson said. 

"'Other men'? It was one man. It's not like I'm a male prostitute or anything." I pouted. 

"Whatever. Go home. Get ready for our date. I'll pick you up at Alex's at 7. Text me his address. Make sure to wear something pretty. We're going out on the town, baby." Bryson said as he dropped a kiss on my head and moved towards the driver's side of his truck. 

I was still pouting as he drove away. In true Bryson fashion, he had sped up our reconciliation and subsequent restart of our relationship to warp speed. I could hardly keep up. Yet, it was still frustratingly slow. He could be so irritating sometimes. Alex laughed and said, "I knew I was in favor of you two being together. Anyone who can rustle your feathers that much is okay in my book." I shoved Alex and moved towards our car. I had a date to get ready for. 

At 6:58, I was pacing in front of Alex's door. I hadn't heard from Bryson since I texted him Alex's address and he texted back, "Ok." I chose to wear dress pants and a dress shirt. Bryson hadn't given me a clue as to what were doing, but I figured I didn't need a full suit. Three minutes later, the doorbell rang. He was a minute late, but I chose to forgive him. I opened the door and Bryson stood there looking gorgeous. Not his normal amount of gorgeous either. His hair was combed, he had on an outfit similar to mine, and he was smiling radiantly at me. I almost came from looking at him. I knew that I was definitely pitching a tent. Bryson's eyes ran up and down my body and lingered on my crotch. 

"Cut it out. We're never going to be able to finish our date if you keep responding to me that way." He said. 

"Sorry. Can't help it." I blushed. "Where are we headed?"

"The Tavern." I gasped. That was one of the nicer restaurants in town, but more importantly, it was the busiest restaurant in town. Everyone would see us there. 

"Are you sure you don't want to go somewhere more discreet?" I asked delicately. 

"No. I want everyone to see us. It's time I came out and we made our relationship public. Unless, you don't want anyone to know." He looked at me with an eyebrow raised. 

"No. Let's go. I'm ready." I stated confidently. 

I was nervous as we drove to the restaurant. It was pretty silent in the car as I'm normally the talker out of the two of us and I was mute with nervousness. As we got out of the car, I figured everyone would just assume we were two friends out to dinner. No one would have to know and Bryson wouldn't have to be humiliated or embarrassed at all. I just didn't want anyone judging him. I knew being gay was nothing to be ashamed of, but not everybody shared that opinion. My hopes were dashed as Bryson grabbed tight to my hand as we entered the restaurant. The hostess stared at us as we entered. In fact, everyone stared once they noticed we were two grown men holding hands. Bryson asked for a table for two and the hostess led us to a table in the middle of the restaurant. Bryson continued to hold my hand and everybody continued to stare. 

"Everyone is looking at us, Bryson" I whispered. 

"I know. Let them stare. We have to get used to this. Do you want to be with me?" He asked. 

"Of course. I love you."

"Then we have to realize that we're a bit of an oddity in Brawnee Falls and not everyone will be accepting." He said matter-of-factly. We ate our dinner and tried to ignore the stares. We talked about our lives and our plans for our relationship. We would date for a while and be like a normal couple. That was the plan. As we paid and got up, I noticed that less people were staring. They had gone back to their own dinners and their own lives. We were walking out of the restaurant when an older man tapped Bryson on the shoulder. 

"Hi, Bob! How are you?" Bryson asked. I could tell he was a little nervous.

"I'm fine, Bryson. How are you? What's going on here?" Bob said as he looked at our intertwined hands. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. This is my boyfriend, Noah. It's never come up before, but I'm gay, Bob." Bryson said. Bob stared at us for a few seconds more and then, without a word, walked out of the restaurant. We stood there for a minute before Bryson pulled me outside and towards our car. Once inside the car, I crumbled. 

"I'm so sorry, Bryson." I sniffled. 

Bryson turned and pulled me to him. "You have no reason to be sorry. I'm gay. Even if I had never met you, I would have eventually had to come out. Or I would have spent the rest of my life unhappily hiding in the closet. Neither option is easy, but at least I can spend my life with you now. I don't care what Bob thinks. Bob's an ass. Everyone knows that." Bryson said as he rubbed my shoulder. "Now, let's just go home. Do you want me to take you back to Alex's?"

I plucked up my courage and I said, "I want you to take me back to your house, Bryson. Please."

"Noah, there's no pressure. I thought we talked about wanting to take this a little slower." I interrupted Bryson by putting my hand over his mouth. 

"Bryson, maybe I didn't make myself clear. I would like you to take me to your house, specifically your bedroom, and fuck me six ways 'til Sunday." I looked at Bryson and took my hand away from his mouth. 

"Let's go" He said as he revved the truck. I've never seen Bryson drive so fast. We were at his house within ten minutes. He pulled me out of the truck and up his porch to his front door. When we cleared the threshold, he closed the door and pushed me up against it. Our lips met in a passionate struggle. It was the first time we had kissed in a month and I felt like a starving man with his first meal. Bryson tasted a million times better than I remembered. We kissed for a few minutes, just re-exploring every inch of each other's mouth with our tongues. Bryson broke away to lead me to his bedroom. I looked around at the room where I had lost my virginity. It was such a special room that held so much meaning for Bryson and me. I turned to find Bryson staring at me hungrily. I went to him and dropped to my knees. Bryson groaned as I lowered his pants and underwear. 

"Bunny, you don't have to do this. I wanted this time to be about you." I was going to object to him calling me "Bunny", but the sexy, guttural way he said it made me reconsider. 

"Nonsense. Last time was about me. This time will be about us. Don't worry. I have no problem with you returning the favor. Later." I said before I swallowed his cock down as far as I could. He cried out and gripped my hair. I bobbed my head up and down and licked the head. I enjoyed every moan, whimper, and grunt that left his mouth. I never knew that the satisfying part of sex could be about pleasing another person. I felt him nearing completion and I put more effort behind my actions. I took his cock out of my mouth and licked his balls for a little bit before returning his cock to my mouth. I put it as far into my mouth as it would go a fluttered my tongue along the vein on the bottom. This spurred his orgasm. I greedily swallowed every drop of his cum. As I rose from my knees, I licked up his thighs, stomach, chest, and neck until I reached his mouth. Bryson kissed me passionately and shared his taste. 

He backed me up until the back of my knees hit the bed. As I bounced on the bed, he laid his body over mine and latched onto my neck. I could feel him making a hickey. God, that man loved to stake his claim. He moved down my chest and lavished my nipples with his mouth. I was incredibly sensitive and I was as hard as a rock by the time he reached my cock. He fluttered delicate kisses all over my cock until I couldn't stand it. I was about to demand more contact when my cock was engulfed in delicious, wet warmth. Bryson licked up and down my cock and I just about lost consciousness. He brought me to brink and then released me. I cried out in outrage and he said, "Uh uh, Bunny. I want you to come while I'm inside of you." With that, he leaned over to the bedside table and pulled out some lube. 

A second later, I felt a cool finger at my entrance. I relaxed as he pushed one finger in. When he added another finger, he brushed up against my prostrate. I let out a long, breathy moan. After scissoring his fingers for a bit, he added another finger. 

"God, please Bryson. I need you now. No more fingers. I want your cock. Please" I whimpered. 

"God, I love it when you beg" He smirked and smeared some lube on his cock. He lined up with my entrance. As he pushed in, I winced. He was a lot bigger than fingers. I felt so full, but it felt so good. He looked to me for reassurance and I nodded. He pulled my legs up onto his shoulders and began moving. There is nothing like feeling your lover's cock moving back and forth inside of you. In that position, Bryson hit my prostate with every thrust. 

"Oh god. So good. I love you, Bryson. Please keep moving. I love it."

"Do you like it? Tell me what you love"

"I love you cock. You have a big, beautiful cock. Oh god yeah. Fuck me please. Harder" My breath hitched as he pushed in harder. I thought that I would feel awkward if I ever talked dirty, but I really didn't. I wanted Bryson to know just how he was making me feel. I did want it harder so I cried out again for him to move faster and harder. Eventually, Bryson was fucking me at a pretty rapid pace. I was wonderful. I moved to stroke my own cock and Bryson grabbed my hands and put them above my head. He wasn't letting me touch myself. 

"Bunny, I want you to come just from me fucking you. You can do it." He grunted as he pistoned in and out of my hole. I panted and bucked back into him. He took one of his hands and tweaked my nipple and he continued to thrust into me. 

He looked into my eye and said, "You're so hot and tight. God, it's so nice. I love you, Noah." His words combined with the feeling of his cock pounding on my prostate sent me into a spiraling orgasm with a guttural cry. Through my orgasmic haze, I could hear his cry and I felt my insides coated with the evidence of his release. It felt nice to have Bryson's cum inside of me. I felt sexy. 

We lay exhausted in bed after that. Throughout the night, we had sex so many different ways. After our aggressive first session, we made sweet, tender love. The third time was a mix between the two. In the morning, we had lazy sex while we both woke up. Interspersed between our sessions were a lot of conversations about our future. 

The next day, we went to my house and told my family. They were all understanding, as they had been about me coming out. Bryson's family was a little more difficult. His parents were traditional, but loving. They wanted to understand and accept, but they needed time. His two sisters accepted him, but they had never really been close. That night, Bryson cried in my arms. I felt sad for him that his family didn't fully understand, but I knew we would get through it. 

EPILOGUE 3 years later

I finished washing the dishes from dinner and grabbed my cup of coffee. I walked out on the porch and listened for the sounds of laughter and barking. As they became louder, I saw my dog run around the corner of the house. The German Sheppard was in the awkward stage between puppy and dog where he didn't really know how work his large body. He loped over to my feet and collapsed for his puppy nap. I looked over to where he had come from and saw my husband walking towards me. He was holding our daughter on his shoulders and holding the hand of our young son. Bryson and I had gotten married as soon as it became legal in Illinois and we adopted our two children a year later. They were brother and sister. Their mother had been a drug addict who had abandoned them at a homeless shelter. A lot of people think it's such an awful story and it is, but I thank her for leaving them there so that they could begin their lives with Bryson and me. It may be selfish, but I'm so glad to have them. They are the most important parts of my life, including Bryson. 

As they walked up the porch, I said, "Alright, bedtime for you two." I heard the obligatory moans and groans, but I knew they were just as exhausted as the dog. After teeth were brushed and books were read, Bryson and I moved out onto the porch. We sat and cuddled on the swing as we looked at the stars. 

"You're happy, right?" Bryson asked as he kissed the top of my head. 

"Of course I am. I have a good job, a beautiful home, two wonderful kids, and I married my childhood crush. How many people get to do that?" 

"So far, I know only two." Bryson answered. 

"Two? Who's the other one besides me?" I asked. 

"I'm the other one. You were my childhood crush. I've loved you for a long time, even if it was from a far. Remember that time that it was just you and I hanging out at your house? You were barely a man yet. I suggested that we take out shirts off. Did you really think it was customary for me to hang out shirtless with all of my guy friends? I wanted to ogle your goodies." He waggled his eyebrows. 

"So I married a dirty old perv. Excellent." I moved to look in his eyes. "You've really loved me for that long?"

"I've loved you for that long and I plan on loving you forever. I lied to myself for so long and convinced myself with the words, 'I'm not gay.' But the labels don't matter as much when you meet the person who completes you. I just know that I love you with all my heart." He finished. I reached up and gave him a kiss on the lips. 

"Same here. You may be an old perv, but you're my old perv and I love you." I smiled as I cupped his face. We kissed once more and then looked back out to the stars. I had my porch swing husband. I had my dream and I couldn't be happier. Now if only I could find someone for Alex...



I'm Not Getting Clean At All



Here's something new. I have no idea if this will turn anyone on or even get accepted by the editors. But I HAVE to write about it!

I have a mad crush on someone at work. I was told by a friend who got me the job that I'd like him, before I met him. So as not to "dip my pen in the company ink" so-to-speak, I made a concerted effort to avoid getting too close too soon when my job began. I was doing a fantastic job, if I do say so myself. But then one day, I was in my office and he picked up a call in the waiting room just outside. I do accounting so my focus was well established, until I heard him talking all nerdy. The way he streamlined terms such as, 'aspect ratio', and 'key frame' into his phrases caught my attention. I had to stop and recompose my focus. He kept talking. A few moments passed and my focus began to wane again. What a marvelous voice...no! I must focus. There will be no mixing business with pleasure. Nosirree!

Then it happened. His deep, creamy, rich and resonant voice enveloped me like the warmth of the steam room I had enjoyed the night before. I tried to resist, but failed. I looked up from my desk and whispered, "uh-oh," as the moist dew of my uncontrollable arousal absorbed into my garments. I closed my eyes and uttered a little prayer for myself, "Please help me through this."

Since then I have managed to bring my feelings to a relatively containable level. And we're quite convivial with one another. I don't have much fear or concern that I'll make a wrong move or a regrettable romantic decision anymore. Or, in the converse, completely put him off in some spastic effort to scare him away so that I don't have to deal with my emotions. Maybe we'll even be able to be good and longtime friends. But I am left with the physical evidence of my desire to an almost alarming degree. Such that, where once I did not, now I must invest in the daily consumption of panty liners in my Feminine Products budget.

I have also learned to allow myself simple and harmless pleasures. One of which is proving quite valuable. Rather than resist by trying to talk too much so as to avoid getting damp, I am starting to simply listen to him. He seems to like to tell me stuff. So I listen, appreciate and enjoy that which I can for the time-being. Since I love the sound of his voice so much, I am learning to be quiet and listen more in my life in general. The things people reveal is very interesting when I offer my attention without speaking. I suppose the panty liner expenditure is a fair tradeoff. I imagine that listening more will be an excellent writer's tool in days to come.

Other pleasures in which I indulge are fantasies. Fantasies galore. This man has sparked a wealth of filthy inspirations in me that certainly do not help to lower the panty liner budget whatsoever. 

There's the warehouse fantasy. That was the first one. We're working after-hours in the warehouse. One thing leads to another and next thing you know he has me restrained with packing tape to the shipping table. I'm bent forward with my skirt pulled up and my underpants pulled down. Perhaps a UPS label taped to my mouth? And of course he's telling me what a slutty whore I am in those deep and warm vocal tones, his hot breath close to my ear and neck.

Then, of course, all of the office fantasies. But you've read plenty of those.

There was this one time that he came into my office after lunch with a mint in his mouth and a little wet spot on the crotch of his pants. I instantly thought he was out getting a blowjob for lunch. I realized that it was I who wanted to give him a lunchtime blowjob. Perhaps even every day. I could not stop thinking about it for the rest of the afternoon. I was spending way too much time imaging what sort of codes we'd have worked out: "I just heard Afternoon Delight on the radio," "It's blowjob-thirty," "Got an itch?", "My pussy hurts...". 

Unfortunately, it also made me a little cranky because I was not focusing on my work. All I could think about was stealing away for a few moments to his car, a dark alley, a back corner of the warehouse, somewhere, ANYwhere just to hear him call me his dirty little cocksucking whore. That's the first day I decided to wear panty liners every day.

Sometimes I wish that he gets a job someplace else so that I can crawl across the floor and lick him from the boots up. And maybe come take a long hot bath with him and a Lush(tm) bath bomb in that giant tub he keeps telling me about. I'd show him a Dirty Picnic at the cemeteries and Hacienda del Pinto. I'd take him to all my favorite places while wearing a skirt for each trip. And he can even keep me gagged so that I can listen to him speak the whole time. 



I'm Not Going



With apologies to Glee, I was inspired to write this story by Amber Riley's rendition of "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going." Enjoy!

-----------------------

I was laying in bed. Alone. On a Sunday morning.

Now some of you might say I should be at church, but I'm glad to say I was working to the late hours last night, getting my work done. So it's a lot to ask for me to get my lazy bum out of bed on a Sunday morning.

Grumbling slightly, I rolled over and looked at the clock. Nine-thirty, almost ten o'clock in the morning.

I tried to roll over on my tummy, but I couldn't, because of my strong erection.

Normally my girlfriend Mercedes would be here to help me get rid of this erection. But this morning at least, she wasn't here.

I figured she was at church with her family. I didn't begrudge her time with her family at all. My dick disagreed.

I was about to take matters into my own hands, so to speak, when I heard the front door being unlocked. Less than a minute later, Mercedes herself entered my bedroom.

And she was pissed off.

I could tell by the way her flip flops hit the floor quick and hard. Even with her sunglasses on I could tell she was Pissed Off with a capital PO.

Silently, she came in the room and threw her little white leather draw string purse on my dresser with a hard sigh.

I said, "You're back early."

Mercedes smiled at me as she stared into the mirror above my dresser. "Yes."

But her smile had a strained quality to it.

I took a minute to compose my words, as I gazed at Mercedes. She was short and built like an hourglass, but not fat, wearing a white strapless floor-length dress and pink flip-flops that contrasted beautifully with her chocolate-milk skin. Her long shiny black hair was done in curls that brushed her soft brown shoulders and cascaded down her silky back. The only jewelry she wore was a tiny gold cross on a long gossamer thin fine-gauge gold chain.

Oh yeah, guess I should mention that Mercedes is black. African-American. And hot.

And I'm white. Quite caucasian. Five-ten. Blond hair. Green eyes.

Mercedes and I have been dating for several months now. And during those several months she has had to endure ocasional snide remarks from her family, mostly from her father.

I feel responsible.

So even as Mercedes sighed hard, with her hands flat on the dresser, I took a careful breath and said, "Do you want to talk about it, hon?"

"Not really, baby." Her voice, which was usually so soft and silky yet still husky, was sad and heavy.

"Let me guess - you were treated to more sermons about how evil I am because of my white skin and your relationship with me is akin to sleeping with the enemy?"

Mercedes smiled and almost laughed, despite herself. This time the smile reached her eyes. "Yes. That's exactly what happened. And so I walked out of church today."

From laying flat on my back with my hands clasped behind my head, I sat up a little. "No way."

She turned away from the mirror and nodded. "Way. For the first time in my life. I couldn't stand my father's hypocrisy. Talking about God and reading passage from the Bible all about inclusiveness, while he can't stand to see people of two different races together."

"How does the rest of your family feel about us?"

Mercedes considered that for a moment. 

"That's a good question. I think most of them are OK with it. They just don't want to come out and say so either way, and possibly disagree with my father. God forbid they should disagree with my father."

I grinned at her dry, sarcastic tone. But my grin faded quickly. "I'm sorry."

That made her take off her shades. "What on earth do you have to be sorry for?"

Her voice had softened.

"All this drama with your pops. Sometimes I feel responsible."

Mercedes took the three steps necessary to cross the room, and she sat on my bed.

Then she looked at me, placing her right hand flat on my chest, her fingers spread apart, showing off her long peach fingernails.

"Zachary. Baby. Look at me." Her voice was patient and affectionate.

I raised my head to gaze into those soft brown eyes.

"Don't you ever feel responsible for what my father says. Yes, I'll grant you, I've had to deal with more than my fair share of drama these last few months. But don't you ever feel like any of this is your fault. My father is the only one responsible for his behavior."

I smiled, faintly. "Thanks."

"And besides which, the comments I get from Daddy would have to get downright evil for me to consider leaving you."

I smiled wider this time. "Really?"

Mercedes ran her nails through my wheat-blond hair and smiled back affectionately. "Really, baby. There's no way I'm living without you."

My grin reappeared. "Is that right?"

She grinned back and leaned in very close. "That is right. You're the best man I've ever known. There's no way I'll let you go."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Good. And you're gonna love me."

Then she bent down and touched her lips to mine.

As she kissed me I slipped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer to me.

It didn't take long for our kissing to go from soft and sweet to hot and sexy. Tongues got into the act.

Mercedes gently pulled back. Lips parted slightly, pursed, eyes hooded. She purred, "Why don't I slip into something a little more comfortable?"

"Yeah. Sounds good."

She kissed me one more time, then slipped off the bed and stood up.

Flip-flops came off first. Grinning devilishly, her eyes never leaving mine, she reached around for the zipper to her dress and then let the whole thing fall off.

It fell to the floor in a puddle of white fabric.

My gaze traveled up. She wasn't wearing panties.

I took in the sight of her standing there, smiling, hands on her waist.

Her smile changed into a naughty grin. "Is that a pyramid under your sheets or are you just happy to see me naked?"

I chuckled. "You got me."

Mercedes giggled naughtily as she stepped forward, hips swaying seductively.

"Well, why don't we take advantage of it?"

I swallowed. "Sounds good to me."

As she climbed back into bed with me, I said, "I don't believe you."

"What, baby?"

"Going to church without any underwear on."

Her eyes flashed. "I know! No bra or panties. Tsk tsk tsk."

I grinned at her. "You naughty girl."

"Yes, I am. What can I say, I was in a hurry and I just put on the first thing I saw."

Then without another word she climbed on top of me, held on to my shoulders, and put her boobs in my face. My view of the bedroom was obscured by the softest pair of tits I've ever had the pleasure of handling.

They were warm and soft, shaped like watermelons, the same shade of chocolate as the rest of her and didn't droop but instead stood out, the nipples a slightly darker shade of chocolate that looked like fudge.

I hefted them, squeezed them together, fondled them, then held one steady as I licked and sucked on her nipple, first the right and then the left, making each nipple hard, listening to each noise Mercedes made. Sighs of pleasure. Moans of delight.

Mercedes moaned anew as she said, "Missed these?"

"Yep. Sure did."

She laughed through her moans. "Don't talk with your mouth full....."

I chuckled as I returned to the very pleasant task of servicing her breasts.

Minutes later, Mercedes had that look on her face that meant she had been sufficiently aroused. She had that look as she moved down to kiss me. "I love you so much, Zack."

"I love you, too, Mercedes."

"Would you like to eat my pussy, baby?"

"Is this a trick question?"

Mercedes laughed out loud. She kissed me with affection and then scooted forward and reached up for the head board.

My view was now obscured by the chocolate rose petals of her pussy lips. I held her hips steady as I began to gently flick my tongue over her clit.

The noises she made when I had sucked her breasts were nothing compared to the noises she was making as I ate her pussy. It was no trouble pleasuring her like this. Just picture a pussy made of chocolate, completely shaved, and if I spread her pussy lips apart, it showed off a pink moist center.

And that pink moist center was starting to get wet.

So it didn't take very long at all for Mercedes to climb off me, her pussy smelling of arousal, and move in between my legs, where she wasted no time in giving my dick a little attention.

Mercedes loved to suck my dick just as much as I loved to eat her pussy, if not more so.

I watched, absolutely in rapture, as her brown mouth wrapped around my pink shaft and start to suck.

Mercedes just went to town on my dick, sucking it like it was the best lollipop she had ever tasted, coating it with her saliva and leaving a ring of red lip-gloss at the base of the shaft.

At the end of one long slow suck, she released my dick from her mouth and said, "Did you like that, baby?"

"You have to ask?"

Mercedes laughed. "Do you want to fuck?"

"If you do."

"I do." She gave the pink head of my dick two more quick sucks, then quickly straddled me, her fingers lightly holding my shaft.

"Uhm, Mercedes?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Don't you want me to wear a condom?"

"Nope."

"But you might get pregnant....."

"That wouldn't be so bad. I would love to have a baby with you, Zack. A girl that looks just like me except she has your eyes."

I chuckled then gasped out loud as she guided the pink head of my dick into her pussy and sank down. It slipped inside her effortlessly.

She moaned and closed her eyes as she sank down.

Damn was she wet. She sank down until my dick was all the way up in her pussy. She paused there, opening her eyes and licking her lips.

"Mmmmmmm, I love to have your dick in my pussy."

I gulped, "No arguments here."

Mercedes giggled. Then she lifted up her hips, and sank back down with an "Oh..."

"What would we name her?"

"Oh.... Comfort ... Clarice."

"Sounds good to me...."

"Good. Now. Shut up. Let's fuck already......"

And for the next few minutes, that's what we did.

The room was filled with her moans, my groans, the bed springs squeaking, and the wet slurping noises of my dick in her pussy.

I didn't think my dick could get any deeper inside her pussy than it already was, when she fell all the way down on it to the balls, and cried out loud, "Oh God, I'm coming!"

"Me too!"

"Oh yes, baby, shoot that white man semen in my pussy! Fuck the goddamned fucking shit out of my pussy with that big. White. Dick! Oh god.... oh god.... here it comes! Aaaaahhhhhh!!"

And right at that moment, I came inside her. I couldn't have stopped it even if I knew how to. All I knew was that having my dick inside her pussy felt so damn good, so damn right, like it was the only dick that should have been inside her.

Mercedes had her eyes closed, back arched, nails dug in my arms, as she reached orgasm. I felt her pussy pulse around my dick.

Then her death grip relaxed. Her back slowly slouched forward. Her eyes opened.

She smiled dreamily. "Oh, dear god."

"Yeah. That was totally unbelieveable."

"Totally. Did you come?"

"You know I did. And I know you did."

She giggled. "Oh, yes. Most definitely I did." She slumped forward until her head was resting on my chest, her hands caressing my chest, kissing softly.

We laid there like that, just enjoying the after glow.

She finally looked at me and said, "Boy, am I glad I left church early."

We laughed the giddy laugh of satisfied lovers.

"So am I, Mercedes. So am I."

She finally climbed off me and snuggled next to me. "Have you had breakfast yet, baby?"

"Nope. When you came in I was just starting to wake up."

"Let's both take another nap. Then we can make breakfast. Okay?"

"Sounds good...."

Mercedes giggled. As she snuggled closer to me, I noticed how much more relaxed she looked.