Str8 But Curious
By Natty Soltesz
Smashwords Edition
© Copyright 2011 Natty Soltesz
nattysoltesz.com
Cover design by Johnny Murdoc
johnnymurdoc.com
These stories have previously been published in the following magazines, books, and websites:
“Hard Times,” “All-U-Can-Eat,” Men; “Tight Club,” “A Friend in Need,” “Filling In,” “Cream-Filled,” “Rocks for Jocks,” Freshmen; “Roommate Service,” Torso; “Crazy from the Heat,” Mandate; “Unloading Dock,” “My Sister’s Boyfriend Joey,” tommyhawksfantasyworld.com; “The Morning After,” “Bradley Gets Fucked,” Best Gay Romance 2008.
Table of Contents
Preface – Don’t Be It, Dream It
I’ve had my share of straight guys. Maybe I’ve had my fill.
I bagged the majority during my college years, that magical time when sexual identity is as addled and messy as a frat boy after his third keg stand. One straight drunk buddy made out with me at a party then invited me to his bedroom to trade blowjobs. Another got so horny looking at straight porn he whacked me off and let me return the favor.
And I’ve had others since then. Dalliances in secluded park paths and in the backrooms of adult bookstores, those playgrounds of the minivan-and-wedding-band set. Hookups with masc, discreet Internet-personals advertisers who need to be fucked quick before the gf gets home.
All of them “straight,” though in varying degrees of believability. My penchant for straight guys has come through most strongly in my writing, and I’m aware of the inherent irony in an oeuvre of gay porn about straight guys. I’ve joked that my characters think they’re straight but are actually bisexual; these days I use the term “straight-ish” to describe them. It’s something of a cop out but it serves my purposes. I’m certainly interested in the intersection of sexual identity and behavior, but I prefer to leave those conversations to the queer theorists (who need something to talk about).
My fascination lies in the fantasy of the straight guy, that persistent and near-ubiquitous gay male fetish for guys who prefer pussy but will reach for other forms of relief in a pinch. Internet porn teems with these representations, site after site of guys who only do it cause they’re horny, or tricked, or need the money.
One particular video that was making the Internet rounds a few years back had a straight-identified performer doggy-style fucking a guy whilst reading a pussy mag he’d draped over the bottom’s back. This crossed a line for many and seemed to distill the love/hate boner/shame relationship many gay men have with “straight guys.”
I thought it was hot, maybe because I make a strong distinction between representation and reality. Trading blowjobs with that guy in college was fun – having him alienate me as he fell in love with a mutual female friend was not fun. I got such a crush on one of my best straight buddies that I nearly ruined the friendship with my hopeless pining.
It’s true that there’s an element of self defeat and self hatred when it comes to fetishizing straight guys. But most of our sexual fantasies tend toward the unattainable – otherwise it’s unlikely they’d be fantasies. So it’s okay to jack off while imagining blowing your hetero married boss under his desk, but it’s not an aspiration worth losing your job for. To insist upon the fantasy is at best pathetic, at worst a tragedy. It’s not much of a waking life when you’re hung up on a dream.
So yeah, I’ll always turn my head for a little butch swagger. A football jersey, a gold chain, a splash of Drakkar Noir. But when it gets down to getting down I’d rather have the dude who’s got a spring in his step and a twinkle in his eye. He’s more likely to be aware of what he’s doing, and do it better, and do it with me again.
The Morning After
Sonny was sitting at the table, clutching a bottle of beer, when Chuck walked into the room. Their eyes met.
“Good morning,” Chuck said. What else was there to say? As soon as he’d woken up, it had all come back to him. As far as he was concerned, there was no point in pretending it hadn’t happened. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to avoid Sonny’s glare.
Sonny bounced his leg, gulping more beer, never averting his stare. Chuck tensed. How were they going to deal with this? It was too much to think about. And he had a wicked hangover.
“Is there any beer left?” he asked. Sonny jerked his shaved head in the direction of the fridge. Chuck ambled over, scratching himself through his boxers. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed. Sonny had put on his sweatpants.
He opened the beer and walked back to the living room.
“All I’m saying is…” Sonny’s voice was low—the sound of a dog cornered and snarling. “…if you tell one fucking soul what happened last night, I will kill you. And I mean that.”
“What?” Chuck said, holding the beer out to his side.
“You heard me.”
“Dude, why the fuck would I tell anybody? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Just so you know. You breathe a word about this shit to anyone, and you’re dead. And you know for a fact I’m not fucking around.”
“Dude, would you just chill the fuck out? Seriously. You think I want my girlfriend to hear that shit? You think I’d want it to get back to anybody?”
Sonny stood up. Though shorter than Chuck’s dark-haired, six-foot-two frame, Sonny was a tough little fucker—a fireplug of a dude with a chest full of tight muscles under smooth, tattooed skin.
He got in Chuck’s face, his body loaded like a spring. Chuck, startled by his friend’s aggressiveness, stepped back.
“We were drunk, dude. We were drunk, and shit got out of hand, that’s all. Now you’re all up in my face, for whatever fuckin reason. What’s your beef, dude? You wanna go?”
Sonny pushed Chuck’s shoulder, sending Chuck reeling backward until he found his bearings and pushed back, hard. Sonny crashed to the floor, startled. Then he sprang up, like a tiger out of a cage.
He pounced on Chuck, sending a hard fist into his side. Chuck grabbed him around the waist and threw him to the ground. They rolled, struggling for control. Sonny got his hands around Chuck’s neck and squeezed. It took all of Chuck’s strength to push and kick him away. He twisted out, flipping Sonny onto his back and holding him down by sitting on his thighs. Grabbing hold of Sonny’s wrists, he pinned his arms to the floor above his head. Sonny writhed and squirmed. He was trapped.
“What do you want?” Chuck growled, as soft as a whisper. “What do you want?” Sonny stopped thrashing, catching his breath in great gasps. For a moment their bodies heaved, their eyes locked. That’s when Chuck realized: Sonny was hard, his cock pressed like a diamond rod into Chuck’s crotch.
Sonny started to struggle again, futilely, then he was writhing, hunching his body up against Chuck’s. Chuck’s cock engorged quickly, as though the blood and aggression was surging from his head and body right into his cock.
Sonny’s eyes were searching and confused. Chuck yearned to do what they hadn’t done the night before, and he went with it. Sonny met his mouth, hard, their teeth knocking together, drawing blood from Chuck’s mouth. They kissed. Chuck was totally hard now, and he ground his erection into his friend, his tongue diving between Sonny’s lips.
He sucked on Sonny’s neck, keeping him pinned to the floor. Sonny thrust his hips, unabashedly humping against Chuck’s body. Their tongues wrestled for position. Then Chuck released Sonny’s arms, and Sonny made no attempt to roll away. He reached under Sonny’s tight midsection, pulling their bodies even closer.
Their breathing was short, but the sex accelerated. Chuck worked his mouth down Sonny’s body, sucking his chest and nipples, licking and biting his stomach. He pulled off Sonny’s pants—his cock caught on the elastic and slapped right back against his stomach. Chuck nibbled around the soft skin of Sonny’s pelvis, and when he got to his pert pink cock he didn’t hesitate—he took it in his mouth, and sucked deep and tight. Perfect fit. Sonny whimpered.
Had they been viewing themselves in a rational state of mind, it would have been like viewing someone else, something from which they would have averted their eyes. Chuck slurped his buddy’s cock like a Popsicle, and Sonny swept his hands through Chuck’s hair, fighting back his orgasm.
Chuck ran his fingers under Sonny’s balls. He was so smooth down there, sweaty from their struggle, and Chuck’s fingers slid naturally toward Sonny’s hard asshole. When his fingers made contact both knew that it was right. Sonny’s whimpers became moans, and Chuck’s cock got impossibly harder.
Chuck went down further, licking Sonny’s taint. His flesh was so clean, so smooth—Chuck was barely aware of what area he was licking until his tongue made contact with the ring of muscle between Sonny’s cheeks. It wasn’t bad, so he dug in deep, working Sonny’s hole with his tongue. It was as if his cock knew where it wanted to go, and his tongue was paving the way.
He knew he was going to have to get it slick, so he made sure he got Sonny’s asshole wet and slobbery. He pressed a finger in and Sonny’s butthole, hot and tight, took it like the mouth of a hungry baby. Chuck pumped his finger in and out while stroking Sonny, whose every muscle undulated as Chuck’s hand reached it. He wrapped his arm around Sonny’s shoulders and pulled him up. They kissed.
Sonny bent over and took Chuck’s massive prick into his mouth. It was a blowjob almost out of duty, with Sonny using more spit and slobber than necessary. Both knew where they really wanted Chuck’s cock to be. All of this—lasting only minutes—was a precursor to the main event.
Chuck raised Sonny’s legs into the air, lining up his wet cock. Sonny looked down, holding his breath. Keeping his cock steady with one hand, Chuck pressed forward. It took a minute, but then he was inside. Sonny winced at the pain at first, but then his ass let Chuck’s cock in like a welcome friend. Chuck was balls-deep, and they were both where they wanted to be.
***
They were where they had been last night.
For Chuck, the night had seemed like a long continuation of the same dream. One minute they’d been doing shots in Sonny’s bedroom, the cards long forgotten, the room beginning to spin. The next minute he was waking up in the dark, in Sonny’s bed. He was fucking Sonny’s ass, and it felt wonderful. Though he wasn’t sure how he’d arrived there, he knew it was okay, because Sonny was panting under him. And Chuck had reached down and felt that Sonny was just as hard as he was.
So they’d fucked until they came, he in Sonny’s ass and Sonny all over the sheets. Then they’d passed out a little, and later on they were fucking again. The second time lasted longer—but then maybe it had been several times that all merged together. At any rate, it seemed like they had fucked all night. Had Sonny rode his friend’s dick like a pre-teen girl on a prized pony? Had Chuck really opened his mouth to catch some of Sonny’s jizz? Yes, yes, it seemed that they had.
The experience had been a bit murkier for Sonny. He wasn’t sure what had set the events in motion, though he’d been vaguely aware of feeling his friend’s hard cock pressed against him, and reaching down to feel it—but then he’d been very, very drunk. When Chuck had taken hold of him he’d just let go of everything and allowed him to take the lead. His head had gone elsewhere, and all he knew was the pleasure of the moment.
Then he’d woken up in the cold light of day and everything had come crashing down.
***
Chuck had Sonny’s legs in the air and he was thrusting into him with no mercy. He slipped a strong finger between Sonny’s lips and Sonny bit down, sucking it into his mouth as Chuck’s thrusts got deeper and harder. Chuck instinctively knew that this was how his friend wanted it—rough and unforgiving.
They fucked in a silence punctuated only by deep, animalistic grunts each time Chuck drove it all the way home. Sonny’s hole was tight like a wrapped-up rubber band; it felt like where Chuck’s cock needed to be.
He flipped Sonny over and fucked him doggy style. Sonny looked back over his wide shoulders, down to his two mounds of butt that were stuffed with Chuck’s cock. Chuck started stroking him. It wasn’t going to be long.
Sonny arched up and Chuck held his torso close, sucking on his neck as he fucked into him.
“Gonna fuckin cum,” he whispered in Sonny’s ear. At those words Sonny’s cock jerked in his hand and started spraying cum, showering his chest and abs. Chuck lost it too, driving his monster prick deep inside and letting it loose, shooting cum all the way up his buddy’s butt, holding still as he unloaded the first jet, then giving a sharp jab, then more cum, another jab, more cum, until he was empty.
He ran his hand up Sonny’s torso, smoothing Sonny’s cum into his skin like a lotion.
They fell onto the floor on their backs, beside each other, gasping for breath. After a while, Sonny’s breathing slowed. He was falling asleep. Chuck turned to his friend and held him, wrapping his arm around his chest. Sonny took hold of his hand and held it close to his heart, his ass cupped by Chuck’s pelvis, their bodies pressed close for warmth and comfort.
The weariness of exertion began to overtake Chuck, too. Sonny was fully asleep now. They were holding each other on the hard floor. The refrigerator kicked on. Everything and nothing had changed.
My Best Friend’s Boyfriend
Nicole and I used to wait tables together when we were in college and we did a good job of remaining friends thereafter. We’d go out once a month or so with her crazy girlfriends to a karaoke night downtown. She was a party girl in college and she showed no signs of slowing down in her thirties.
It was at karaoke night that she introduced me to Dustin, her latest boyfriend.
“Hey, Nicole told me a lot about you,” he said, shaking my hand. He had a nice smile, a shaved head and a killer body, his t-shirt and pants filled out with rounded, smooth muscles. We made small talk before I headed off to sing “White Wedding.” When I was done, Nicole pulled me off to the side.
“He’s in fucking med school,” she said, wide eyed.
“Seems younger.”
“Twenty fucking five,” she said. “Score of the century, Daniel.”
“He smells great too,” I said. Nicole slurped down the dregs of her gin and tonic and reached for the fresh one on the table.
“His body...” she said, leaning into me and spilling a little of her drink on the floor. She bunched her fingertips and kissed them off. “Not an ounce of body fat on him, totally smooth, you could lick him head to toe like a fucking ice cream cone. And I do, Daniel, believe me, I do.”
We looked at him across the room, ordering us another round at the bar. “Great ass,” I said, admiring the plumped-out rear of his shorts.
“Grabbing on to that thing, all muscled...and his cock - it’s not the biggest one I’ve ever seen, but it is by far the nicest. It’s fat, you know? It’s like the cardboard tube inside a roll of toilet paper. Uncut...oh my god, we have to stop talking about this!”
“Sweet Jesus,” I said, nursing the mental image. Just then he turned and saw us staring at him. “He totally knows we’re talking about him.”
“I am gonna fuck the life out of that boy tonight,” Nicole said, licking her lips. Dustin blushed adorably and looked down at the bar, and Nicole and I laughed like the horny little beasts we were.
Over the next few months I got to know Dustin and, pleasingly, found that I had a genuine connection with the guy. He had a laid-back intelligence that resulted in deep philosophical conversations, or at least as deep as you can get when you’re drunk at the bar. Karaoke nights often resulted in the two of us off by ourselves, shooting the shit while Nicole and the girls did their best Journey and Alanis homages.
Time went by, and it shocked me to realize one night that the two of them had been dating for eight months - a record for Nicole, as far as I knew. That was the night that a group of fratty-looking guys joined us. One of them was dating Nicole’s friend Jen. They were friendly. Dustin was in a mood, though, and wasn’t interacting with us that much.
“I need to tell you something, it’s just between us though,” Nicole said about fifteen minutes before the bar closed. She pulled me in front of the ladies’ room. “Did you meet Mike?” she said, motioning toward the fratty dudes.
“Is he the dark-haired one?”
“Yeah,” she said, sucking on a cigarette. I’d known Nicole too long not to know where this was going.
“Don’t tell me you want to fuck him.”
“Goddammit, Daniel. I have been fucking him. For like the past three weeks.” I wasn’t good at hiding my disappointment. “C’mon, don’t judge me.”
“I’m sorry. I just...I like Dustin. I was hoping...I don’t know.
“I know,” she said. “I know.” She looked up at the ceiling. “He - Dustin - he wants to get married.”
“Oh man.”
“It’s a total fucking mess. I’m a total fucking mess.”
The next day Nicole and I met for lunch. That’s when I found out she wasn’t just fucking Mike - she was fucking Tom, Dick and Harry too, on a commitment fear-based rampage. “I have to tell Dustin. Don’t I?
“You should, but that’s easy for me to say.”
“I can’t do it,” she said, maniacally poking a fork into her shrimp salad. “I don’t know what I’m gonna fucking do, I can’t do it.”
Next month Dustin showed up to karaoke after Nicole and I had arrived. There was clearly some tension between them, but Dustin was cool with me.
“Got a boyfriend?” he asked, relaxing against the back of the booth. He was wearing a tank top and his shoulders were looking delectable.
“Not for a year,” I said. “Men are such bitches. I can’t find anybody real.” He looked off to the side to where Nicole was leafing through the karaoke book.
“Realness is in short supply these days,” he said, and tipped back his beer.
Dustin ordered us a bunch of shots, and when it came time I realized I wasn’t able to drive home. Nicole said I could crash at her place, so when the bar closed we walked the few blocks to her apartment. Dustin was with us, and the silence between them was icy.
“You need a blanket? Anything else?” Nicole slurred once we got there. “I’m good,” I said, fluffing the couch pillow. “I’m just gonna pass out for a few hours, I’ll probably take off before you wake up.” She bid me goodnight and joined Dustin in her bedroom.
I awoke sometime later to someone snapping on the kitchen light, then cracking open a can of beer. I turned around and saw Dustin leaning against the oven, wearing pajama pants and nothing else.
“Go back to sleep man. Sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s cool,” I said. My hangover was already kicking in. “I need water,” I said. “What time is it?”
“Five something,” Dustin said. He handed me a glass of water and laid down on the love seat opposite the couch.
“Thanks,” I said, sitting up to drink it. “Nicole sleeping?” Dustin gulped his beer then rested the can on his sculpted chest.
“She took off,” he said. “We had a fight.”
“Shit,” I said. “I guess I slept through it. That’s too bad.” He shrugged.
“She’s probably off fucking Mike. Or anybody, really.” I didn’t say anything. “It’s cool man, I know you know.” I took a moment to process this.
“Does she know you know?”
“Probably.” He turned to me. “I could give a shit either way.” We drank our drinks. I listened to the creak and hum of the apartment. “She admitted to fucking Mike but I know there’s more.”
“I’m sorry man.”
“Not your fault, you’re just being a good friend.”
“I wish it were different. I have a lot of respect for you.”
“I know you do,” he said. He rested his left hand on his abs. “I should just leave her, right?” I nodded. “And in the meantime, fuck whoever I want.”
“Seems fair,” I said.
“Find some willing chick.” He took a gulp of beer and ah’d. “Or a dude for that matter.” My heart quickened at that. “You ever had sex with a girl?” he asked.
“Yeah. Not since high school.”
“Funny how that works - all the straight guys I know who’ve experimented with guys did it in college. But all the gay guys I know who’ve messed around with girls did it in high school.”
“And probably never did it again,” I added.
“You wouldn’t?” he said.
“Probably not, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”
“Me either,” he said. He took a last drink and set the can on the carpet where it fell on its side. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. I finished my water, watching him as his breathing slowed. Then I turned off the kitchen light and crashed.
I don’t know how long I slept but when I woke up there was watery light filtering through the blinds. Dustin was on the love seat, still, but he was lying on his stomach. And he was bare-ass naked.
I had a morning boner. I pissed in the bathroom and Dustin was still there when I got back, his head nestled in his folded arms, his broad strong back and perfect pert smooth ass on display.
I looked out the window - Nicole’s car wasn’t on the street. Dustin shifted and when I turned back he’d let his left foot rest on the floor, parting his legs. Even in the dim light I could tell he was hairless all over.
I put my hand on his warm shoulder. He didn’t stir, so I moved it down his rippling back. My heart was pounding, I scarcely knew what I was doing. Dustin shifted his hips, nestling his other leg deep into the cushion crack, his head deeper into his arms. I felt down the small of his back, the whisper-soft sound of smooth skin against skin as I felt his firm ass cheeks, cupping one in my palm.
I went to the bottom of the couch and felt his athletic legs from his feet to his upper thighs. Dustin was breathing more heavily now and clearly awake. I massaged him with both hands, feeling up the sides of his torso to his tight stomach, rounded pecs and erect nipples.
I felt the back of his arms then his forearms and Dustin took my hands in his and drew my arms around him tightly. I rested my body on top of his and held him, my clothed body pressed tight to his muscular nude body. My face was nestled in his neck, I kissed him there lightly. He turned his head and his lips met mine. We made out, his tongue writhing in my mouth, our desire quickening as our bodies ground together, his ass meeting my firm thrusts.
I lifted my torso, my hands sinking into the cushion. I licked the back of his head, dragging my tongue down his neck and along the depression of his spine. Backing up I slid my tongue down the small of his back and to the top of his ass crack. He raised his ass up in anticipation. I took my time, teasing around his muscle butt.
He whimpered a little. There wasn’t a hair on this guy and I thought of what Nicole had said about an ice cream cone, it was true, his skin was so smooth and rich. I worked my tongue up from his thighs and deep into his ass crack where I rested it against his tight hole. He groaned. I pressed my tongue against the tight ring of muscle until it loosened and I slid my tongue inside.
Dustin got more vocal as I ate him out, moaning and grunting his approval. I reached under him and took his hard cock in my hand, it was heavy and had a thick cover of foreskin around the head. I skinned that back, stroking him as I worked on his ass.
I tongued his taint and balls then slipped my head underneath his crotch and sucked his cock, keeping a thumb on his hole. It really was an amazing cock. Dustin got into fucking my mouth, backing up far enough so that my thumb popped right into his hole. He gasped, some pre cum leaked out of his cock and I swallowed it down.
He got up then and started taking off my clothes. He looked into my eyes as he lifted off my shirt, smiling, then going in for a deep kiss. It was sort of a relief that he could look at me and be okay. Once I was naked we stood together, grinding our bodies as we made out, our hard ons sliding against one another.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he whispered in my ear. I was grabbing his ass, pulling him closer, inching my fingers toward his hole.
“What if Nicole comes back?”
“She won’t, she does this all the time. Besides if she does, I locked her out,” he said with a wicked grin.
I followed his flexing ass to the bedroom. He procured a condom from the nightstand and flopped on to his stomach. “I don’t have any lube so you’ll have to get me really slick,” he said.
I did what I could, eating him out for a long time. Dustin couldn’t get enough of it, he was all ass, and I wondered if Nicole had discovered this side of him. I couldn’t believe I was going to get to fuck this perfect piece of straight-boy tail, but I didn’t question it either. Dustin seemed to know exactly what he was doing and was ripe and ready. I rolled the rubber over my cock and slicked it up with as much spit as I could muster. Dustin was so wet and relaxed that it worked out fine; I rested my cock head against his hole and he backed up on to it. I waited a moment for him to adjust but he just backed up more until my whole dick was inside him.
I laid my body on to his and held him, our arms wrapped together around his chest as I began to fuck him. We made out some, our breath short as I banged his perfect ass and he met every thrust. I felt utterly connected with him, totally in tune. I got him on all fours and fucked him from behind, the heavy whack of his hard-on as it slapped against his drum-like stomach had to be heard to be believed. I flipped him on his back and did him missionary style, his legs on my shoulders, my hands all over that body. “Fuck me,” he panted, a dreamy look in his eyes. I jacked his big dick.
“I’m gonna cum,” he said. He rolled his eyes back and his asshole tightened around my thrusting cock. He gasped for breath as a big jet of cum shot up out of his cock and landed on the pillow next to his face. “Oh fuck oh fuck,” he cried as another and another followed, girthy ropes of cum that landed on his face and chest.
“I’m gonna shoot in you, man,” I said. He nodded and I let it loose, inside this straight boy’s butt, feeling like my soul was pouring out of me, a real hell of a load that shot into the condom.
I slid out and chucked the rubber on the floor, then I collapsed next to Dustin, the two of us heaving for breath. Before I had time to wonder what was going to happen next he pulled me to him and we spooned, my softening cock resting against his well-used ass, our flushed bodies pressed close.
“Well,” I said.
“I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was waiting for that happen,” he said.
“You’re kidding.”
“I’ve got a touch of the bi. Well, maybe more than a touch. Truth be told, I’ve been attracted to you since the day we met.”
I held him, a bit dumbfounded. I knew there was going to be a knock at the door from Nicole, sooner or later, figurative or literal, but I felt too good to let go of him just yet.
Roommate Service
The roommate situation was this: I was desperate for someone to pick up half the rent, so I chose the first guy who responded to my ad.
His name was Peter and he worked in a warehouse near my end of town. He was 27 and pretty good looking – part Latino, big sensuous lips, stubbly face and a muscled body that was slightly thick around the middle. He wore a gold chain over his white t-shirt.
We got along okay the first week and then gradually he began to take over the place. It started with things like putting his posters on the wall and watching ESPN all the time. It progressed to him lying around on the couch all day while dishes piled up on the coffee table and the bathroom got unforgivably dirty.
As much as I resented his laziness, I couldn’t help but lust after this hot guy. I lived for the times when he came home from work all sweaty, leaving his bedroom door open a crack so I could sneak a peak while he stripped off his work clothes. He’d come out in a pair of mesh shorts and a tight t-shirt and I’d watch the firm mounds of his ass as he strode down the hall.
After a month of essentially being his cleaning boy, I decided to confront him about it. He was planted on the couch in his usual position, drinking beer and watching the tube. I sat across from him – he grunted hello but otherwise took no notice of me.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“About what?”
“You’re not pulling your weight around here.”
“Whatever, bro. Don’t be so uptight.”
“Uptight? I’ve done your dishes for the past three weeks! You leave all of your shit lying around and I have to pick it up.”
“So what?” he said, and turned back to the TV. I was speechless and incredibly pissed, but it didn’t stop me from noticing the outline of his cock and how it lay along his thick, hairy thigh.
I’m not sure if he noticed me looking, but his hand went down to his crotch and he started massaging his dick. He was looking right at me.
“Let me ask you a question,” he said. “Do you think you’re pulling your weight around here?”
“W-what do you mean?” Peter rubbed his palm along his shaft. It was obviously thicker.
“I mean, I could use someone to take care of my needs. You know what I’m saying?” I kept staring, he kept fondling and watching me stare at him. Then, slowly, he pulled down the waistband of his shorts. Out popped a fat, hairy dick which was just as big and horny as I’d imagined it to be. It pulsed, bobbed and throbbed against his stomach.
Now, being that I’m a pretty well-built and handsome guy, I’d brought home my fair share of tricks in the time since Peter had moved in. I assumed he knew I was gay, but I never thought he was anything less than straight. And even if he wasn’t 100% hetero, it was fast becoming obvious that he was at least a little bit freaky.
An eternity passed as I stared at his handsome pole, which jerked with his pulse and seemed to beckon me closer. Peter took off his shorts completely, releasing his heavy, sagging nuts, and sat upright.
“Get the fuck over here,” he said. “You know you want to.”
In a daze, I knelt down before him. Peter looked down at me, a slight but satisfied smile on his face. Reaching forward, I went to take his cock in my hand, but Peter pushed my hand away.
“Just your mouth,” he said. I started by going down on his balls, lapping up each heavy orb before taking his whole sac into my mouth. Peter spread his legs and laid back, letting out his breath. “That’s right, eat my fuckin balls.”
The scent of masculine sweat rose off of him. I ran my tongue up his salty shaft and wrapped my lips around the plump head of his pecker. Peter moaned. He put his hand on the back of my head, firmly pushing my face down on his dick. More of his cock slid past my lips until my nose was nestled in his damp pubes. I contracted my throat around it, feeling it pulse and harden.
I bobbed my head up and down on his dick, taking in the deep, pungent smells emanating from his crotch. Peter kept his hand on my head, urging me along as I chugged his cock in and out of my mouth. He was as hard as can be, and my own dick was in the same state. I took it out and stroked myself while I blew him.
I don’t know how long I sucked on that dick, but it felt like hours. Peter just laid back and watched me go to town; he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to cum, and I was in no hurry to finish. Peter had finally demanded the kind of servicing that I could really enjoy.
I lapped up under his balls and licked down his taint. Peter gasped, raising his ass slightly to give me better access. I lifted his heavy legs, bringing his knees to his chest and exposing his hairy butthole. I touched my tongue to it and it squinched up uncontrollably. Peter’s breathing got fast and shallow.
I ran my tongue around the perimeter of his hole, darting in closer and closer to the soft, slick skin that puckered around his anus. I licked up the sweat along his crack, my tongue brushing past his butthole. It tasted great, musky and sweet, a real working man’s ass.
I ate him out properly, slathering my tongue against his hot asshole and spearing it in when he relaxed it. Peter moaned earnestly, his whole body quivering, his rock-hard cock still pulsing against his stomach.
I alternated between lapping at his ass and swallowing his dick. Peter was beside himself, he seemed like he was in awe of how good I could make him feel. It gave me a weird sense of power of him, even though I’d clearly given him control of the situation.
When I let up to catch my breath, Peter looked down at my raging hard-on. He took his own dick in his hand and stroked it slowly.
“I wanna fuck your ass now,” he said, standing up from the couch. His dick lolled out in front of him. “You want this big cock inside you?”
I answered by getting up on the couch and spreading my ass for him. There was nothing I wanted more right then than to get fucked by this guy. My ass was hungry for his dick.
Peter put his hands on my smooth cheeks and spread them apart. I’ve got a nice butt – it might be my best asset – and I could tell Peter was getting off on my smooth, pink hole by the way he licked his finger and rubbed it into me.
Peter lined his hips up with mine and pressed his cock head against my hole, mashing it around and getting it slick with his pre-come.
He took his spit-slicked finger and slid it inside me, opening my ass wide. I gasped, but I quickly got used to the feeling. Peter was relentless, his finger pumped in and out of my hungry ass with no mercy. I sensed I’d better get myself ready for a rough fuck. My roommate wanted to use my ass to get off, and to him, my pleasure was secondary.
He must have slicked up his dick pretty well because I was surprised at how easily he entered me. I yelled out from the shock of it but Peter never let up. He just kept feeding me that fat cock until his hips were pressed against mine, the full length of his cock buried inside. Then he drew back out and began to fuck, riding in and out of me like I was a blow-up doll or something. I was loving it, and I bucked back to meet his rude, insistent humping.
Peter spanked my ass as his balls slapped my balls rhythmically. “Nice, tight ass,” he grunted, solely focused on the feelings my ass was giving to his prick. He just held on to it and fucked away, working me over while my own unattended hard-on whapped against my stomach with each thrust.
This was what I had wanted all along, I realized. To be used by him. All that anger was being channeled into pure lust. I imagined the scenarios in which I wanted to put him – to have him sit on my face while he watched TV; to have him bend me over the sink and fuck me while I did his dishes. Anything, so long as he kept feeding me that beautiful dick.
He sat on the couch and pulled me on top of him, and I rode him like a horse on a carousel. He literally held me in his hands, bouncing me up and down on his dick while he looked me in the eyes. A look came into his eyes that I’d never seen before. He brought his handsome face closer to mine and enthusiastically kissed me, our tongues writhing against each other, our energies intensifying and intermingling.
I think it had gotten deeper than either of us had realized, and Peter snapped back into reality like he’d just realized what he was doing. He smiled at me, then lifted me up and tossed me back on to the couch. He threw my legs over his shoulders and rammed his cock right back inside.
He fucked me intensely, going faster and harder, and from his breathing I could tell he was getting close.
“I’m gonna blow in you baby,” he growled. I pushed back to let him know that’s what I wanted.
With a final loud grunt, he shoved his rod all the way inside of me and started to unload. His guttural moans filled the room as he blew his jizz into me, his rod pulsing with each hot shot.
When he was done he pulled out and collapsed back on the couch.
“You gotta towel?” he said. Before I could answer, I looked down and realized I had lost my load all over my stomach. I hadn’t realized it, I hadn’t even been touching myself.
“Let me get one,” I answered, and I proceeded to clean his dick and my stomach, in that order.
***
From then on it became clear that my new job as Peter’s roommate was to take care of his dick whenever he wanted, which was usually every day after he came home from work. So that is the new roommate situation. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me sometimes.
I’ll come home to a mess of an apartment and loads of come-covered laundry to do, and I swear I’ll never do it again. But then Peter comes home with a sheen of sweat covering his body and a look in his eye that says he plans on fucking me all night. By one a.m. I’ve got two of his loads in my stomach, Peter’s pushing me against the wall getting ready to give me a third, and all of the animosity I held toward him is long, long forgotten.
I mean, can you really blame me?
Bradley Gets Fucked
Bradley went on AmateurFratDudez.com and looked at his self. His perfect, almost-naked body, pictured there for the world to see, was posed right next to the perfect, almost-naked body of his best friend Joe. The title of the video told the story in a nutshell: “Bradley Gets Fucked.”
He clicked through the pictures – he looked good. Joe looked good. Their impossibly muscled bodies, the result of so many hours in the upper campus gym, showed off well.
He wondered if Joe had seen their page since it had gone up last week. They hadn’t talked about it since they’d done the shoot almost a month ago. Bradley had been the experienced one, the star; having done several solo videos for the site before. When he’d been offered a thousand bucks to go all the way with another guy, the only one he could imagine doing it with was Joe.
He’d been surprised to realize the money felt like both a reason and an excuse.
Bradley gazed at a shot of himself bent over, his plump ass cheeks wrapped around Joe’s big dick, a look of pained pleasure on his face. Had it all been acting? There was no denying that getting fucked had made him cum hard and fast – the proof was on video. And maybe he could rationalize by saying it was the Viagra, but truthfully, hadn’t there been more to it? Was it just the newness of feeling something up your ass? Or that fact that that something had been Joe’s cock?
Bradley rubbed his half-hard dick through his workout pants. There was Joe, on the screen, with his tongue in Bradley’s ass. Bradley took off his pants, got on his bed and threw his legs over his head. And without even thinking, in the absent and unafraid way we do secret things when we’re alone, he wet the tips of his fingers in his mouth, brought them to his clean, slick asshole, and reminisced.
***