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All events are fiction. All characters are a figment of imagination. All character's represented in this story are 18 or over.
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I ain't gay 7
The past two weeks have gone by in a blur.
I started working with my uncle, which has been pretty awesome. Learned a ton and he's even promised to pay me for the work, which will be really handy. Can give some to mum and save some up to try and move out.
It's also left me pretty exhausted. I just about have enough energy to eat and veg out on the sofa with mum in the evenings. Which is good because it's meant I haven't really had much time to think about Jared.
We've continued messaging, but it's just been friendly banter and small talk, really. Neither of us has mentioned anything about ... the gay stuff. He's also kept up his promise to set me up on a date with his friend.
Which is why I'm currently in the bathroom, trying desperately to make my hair look ... special? Something a little more than the usual faux hawk.
Eventually settling on a simple quiff, I give myself a final look in the mirror and my pits another spray of deodorant before leaving the bathroom.
Jared told me to just go for my usual look, so I'm in my navy blue tracksuit with Nike Airs. Hopefully, I'll impress her and I can finally lose my virginity! Still being a virgin at 18 is humiliating. If the guys only knew they'd rip me to pieces.
Taking a selfie and sending it to Jared - just to get his opinion on whether his friend will be into the look. It isn't for him. We don't do that gay shit. Anymore. - I can't help thinking why am I trying to impress a group of people I'm trying to escape from?
Saying goodbye to mum, I stop outside the apartment door. Am I really going to lose my virginity for the approval of a bunch of guys? Because that sounds pretty gay.
Checking Jared's message of support, I slowly make my way to the stairwell.
Am I even attracted to this girl?
I've sent her a few messages in the last couple of days. They've been a little flirty but nothing on the level of what me and Jared used to get up to.
The stench of piss hits me as I open the door; the usual greeting of any public stairwell in England. Why people have to piss inside and not outside, I'll never know. The lift is worse.
Slightly holding my breath, I take the steps two at a time to spend as little time in the piss cloud as I can.
Getting back into fresh, stench-less air, I try to think what this girl actually looks like.
The only time I've actually ever seen her was when Jared showed me the picture on his phone. She was part of a group and I'd only seen her for a moment. Just enough time to pick her out as my favourite of the group, before Jared had taken his phone away from my face. I didn't even know what I was choosing at the time, so I didn't really take it in.
Making my way out of the estate, I head along the same streets I used to take to Jared's. They don't live together, but her place is the next street over from Jared's.
It's weird that I haven't asked for a picture of her. A better, clearer picture of just her. But, it's almost like it hasn't mattered. As long as she's a girl with a pussy, it seems what's attached isn't any concern to me. I mean, I know she's attractive, but that small assurance seems to be all I've needed. Hell, I don't even remember her name!
Do I actually find her attractive? Or was it just that she was the smallest of the group?
Why am I meeting her? Why am I doing this? To prove to the others I'm a big man? Would they even believe me? Do I even care?
I've not seen any of them the last two weeks and my life has been so much better for it. No mocking. No name-calling. No being made to feel stupid or small or weak or less of a man. No pressure to try and cop off with some drunken chick. It's been good.
So, why am I forcing myself to meet with this girl? To prove to myself that I'm not what they say I am? To prove that I'm not gay? Prove to who? Jared?
Sure, he's the one that's arranged this whole thing, and maybe it would look a little gay if I turned down the chance to sleep with his friend. But, why would I care if Jared thought I was gay or not? If he did think I was gay, he wouldn't have stopped ... seeing me.
Do I need to prove I'm not gay, anyway? Well, I ain't gay, so I definitely don't need to prove it. And I definitely don't need to prove anything to the drunken, drugged up losers that will drink and smoke away any potential they once had!
So, why should I do this? Am I ready for this? Do I want to lose my virginity to a girl?
I stop, my breath coming out pretty heavy as I notice I've been power walking for the last 10 minutes; stuck in my own head. Looking around I notice Jared's house is just up ahead.
Continuing, I make it to the house and knock on the door.
Anxiously, I wait.
Palms are sweaty as I constantly wipe them on my trousers.
My right leg can't keep still as I hear footprints from the other side of the white door.
I look down at the floor as it opens.
"Hey, Dean. I've been looking forward to seeing you. Come on in!" Seeing her for real - long dark, wavy hair frames a face with high cheekbones, a straight nose and a very welcoming smile. I guess you can call her beautiful.
Following her to the sitting room, the house seems to be a mirror image of Jared's. Everything looks the same, just on the wrong side.
"Take a seat." The girl sits down on the chair, her legs folded under her. I take a seat on the sofa, sitting on the further side.
I avoid looking at her as an awkward silence falls over us. I can feel the sweat in my pits dripping into my black polo shirt I wore under my navy blue trakkie top. God, I hope I put enough deodorant on.
Unlike Jared's, the lounge only has one sofa, a big comfy chair replacing the second sofa with a desk next to it. The TV's in the corner instead of against the opposite wall, but the coffee table looks to be the same as Jared's. I wonder if they have the same landlord.
The sofa was a different colour. I think Jared's was grey? Maybe brown. The one I'm currently sitting on is dark red. I think it's a maroon colour? The comfy chair matches.
Unlike when I first met Jared, the TV's off. I wonder what she was doing before I came. Are we alone? I haven't seen or heard anyone else.
"So, has Jared told you much about me?" I look over to her, noticing the blue eyes and long pink lips. She has a big mouth, but not in a bad way. "Uh, no not really. Just you've been on holiday." I can't remember where he said she'd been. I didn't really care much at the time. "Typical, well he's told me a lot about you, Dean." For some reason that worries me. What exactly has he told her about me? "Really?" I can't look away from her eye's. She somehow makes me feel very small. Like she has all the power and I'm just her plaything. "Mmmhmmm, don't worry. I like everything I heard." This doesn't make me feel better. Or maybe it's the look she's giving me. A joyful confidence. "Oh ... Well, that's good?" While I'm the exact opposite. There's a giant pit in my stomach and an almost maddening need to run. "Yeah, he told me you're a virgin." What? Why would he tell her that? She's going to think I'm such a fucking loser! "How about we change that?" With a wink, she slowly unfolds herself from the chair and steps out in front of me.
My mouth feels dry as I watch her slowly take off her big, grey woollen jumper, uncovering her soft, caramel tanned skin, revealing she wasn't wearing anything underneath. It's obvious what her intentions are this evening. Now that I think about it; we never actually discussed what we'd be doing, just that we'd be meeting up.
The smile never falling from her lips, she moves her hips rhythmically as if she were a snake dancing to the tune of a pipe. Her hands move down to her black leggings, slowly removing them as she reveals once more there's nothing underneath.
Stepping out of the stretchy material, her full beauty is on display for me as she closes the gap between us.
Wherever she went on holiday, it was obviously very sunny. Her skin's very tanned, just like Jared's.
Her body is completely hairless, including around her pussy. Just like Jared's.
Her small, round tits jiggle slightly as she bends over, offering them to me.
However, her boobs take on the role of a truck's headlights and me a deer.
I'm completely frozen, my body sinking back into the sofa as my brain goes completely blank. Not a single thought or desire despite her pink nipples being centimetres from my face.
She takes control, grabbing them and pushing them together as they smash into my face.
My vision is blurred by creamy tan skin as the nubs of her left nipple falls into my open mouth. I give it a short, sharp lick on reflex before it's removed.
Pulling back, she gets up on the sofa in front of me, now presenting her hairless mound to my face. There's a lot of loose skin. The words labia and clitoris enter my head, however, I don't know how they apply to what I'm currently looking at.
"Lick it." Placing her right hand on the top of my head, she gently pushes my mouth into her pink folds.
Like a mindless zombie, I do as I'm told. Dragging my tongue through the skin, finding her hole and a tangy taste. No better or worse than what I've tasted with Jared. Carrying on, I find a small numb under some wrinkles of skin. This must be the clitoris. I still don't know what the labia is.
She moans above me as I continue to swipe my tongue up and down her pussy. I've no idea what area I should be concentrating on. I just continue my licking until she pulls away.
My face feels wet as she gets off the sofa and onto her knees in front of me. From sweat or her pussy juices I can't say.
I watch, motionless, as she takes off my trakkie bottoms and boxers. It's then I realise I can't go through with this.
"I'm sorry." Bending over I quickly pull my clothes back up. "Is everything alright, Dean?" Her voice sounds genuinely concerned, but I can't look at her as I get up from the sofa. "Yeah, I ... uh, I need to go ... sorry." My eyes fixed downwards, I hold back tears as I leave the house as quickly as I can without it looking like I'm actually running away from her.
I don't look back as I speed walk away, rubbing the tears from my eyes, only stopping once I'm no longer in view of her street.
Finally able to catch my breath, I try to understand what just happened.
I can't believe I just ran away from a hot girl who wanted to have sex with me! What the fuck? Why did I do that?
I can't stop the tears of frustration falling from my eyes.
'Why' is the only thought going through my head as I almost sprint back home. Not caring who saw, just needing to get back to the safety of my room.
I manage to sneak past my mum to crash on my bed. Face in my pillow, soaking up the tears I'm now failing to fight back.
The girl had messaged me, asking if I was alright. I simply said sorry, that I wasn't up for it. And that's the problem. I wasn't up.
Despite having a hot, naked chick right in my face - her boobs, her body, her pussy and almost her mouth on my cock, yet I was completely numb.
When I looked down to see my dick, shrivelled up as if trying to hide from her was the moment I broke. Not just soft, but super soft. I've never seen it so small before. I mean, I'm not the biggest when it's hard, but it usually hangs down over my balls. A show-er, I guess. However, when I looked down it seemed to have retreated, shrinking past my balls.
Was I really that disgusted by a woman's body? Or was I really that scared?
`That didn't happen with Jared'
The thought came to me like my own brain punching me in the gut.
When Jared had done the exact same things - the dance, the strip - I was raging hard by the time he got my pants down. Hell, I had to stop him because I was going to cum too quickly.
I scream as loud as I can into my pillow.
What does this mean? It can't mean that I'm ... no. I am definitely not gay!
What about all those girls I've made out with? I suppose I never got hard with them either. I've always just put it down to alcohol.
`You'd been drinking the second time you fooled around with Jared. Got hard for him but not the girls.'
I stop crying and turn on my back. Looking up at the ceiling, I stare at the small drops of dried paint that hang down. I try to make patterns with my eyes as the thought streams around and around in my mind.
Maybe the girls just weren't my type?
`Jared's your type?'
My breath catches in my throat as the small drops start to move, merging into one as the room spins, my body sinking into the mattress.
But, I wank to lesbian porn. I even avoid straight porn and I get off to that all the time!
`Not since you met Jared.'
I frantically search through my memories of the last few weeks, desperate to find a time I've gotten off without Jared being somehow involved.
With the meetings and pictures ... and the last two weeks I've been so exhausted I haven't had the energy to wank ... the only time I've cum without Jared is with ... Darren.
`Almost cum sharing pics with that guy on Grindr.'
My peripheral vision starts to blacken as I try to find someone, anyone, that I'm attracted to that doesn't have a penis.
I've not had a crush on any of my classmates since I was in primary school. No posters of actresses on my walls, nor pictures on my phone. When asked I'd always just say who was popular; Jennifer Lawrence, Scarlett Johanson, Mila Kunis. Yeah, I know they're pretty, but did I actually fancy them?
`No.'
The implication of the word crushes me as I close my eyes, allowing the blackness to take me.
I wake up, still in my clothes to the sound of mum calling my name.
Groggily, I look at my phone - 11:30. I never sleep this late!
For a moment I panic that I'm late to go work with my uncle, but then I remember it's the weekend. I don't work on weekends.
Ignoring the messages from Jared - I can't face them right now - I go out to see what mum wants, noticing how I hadn't even taken off my trainers.
Turns out she's made me breakfast. A reward for working so hard. She beams at me as she serves me the eggs, bacon, sausages, toast and beans.
I'm not hungry, but I force it down with a smile. I'd feel bad if I didn't eat it all, what with her making the effort and everything. With her back, she doesn't like standing around in the kitchen for long. To not eat it would be like throwing it back in her face.
Bloated, I go back to my room, the events and realisations of last night crashing over me.
Maybe it was just how aggressive she was being? The arrogant smile, the way she pretty much forced herself on me!
`Was it really like that?'
Yes! Well, that's how I remember it, anyway.
Thinking again, I realise I can't really remember much. I was so nervous I barely looked at her. I've no idea how long I was even there.
"How's your day been?" "Uh, good." "So, Jared says you're working with your uncle. That's cool." "Uh-huh, yeah." "Well, I'm going to be going into my second year of uni studying..." "Do you want to have some fun, Dean?" "Uh, yeah, of course." "You sure?" "Yeah." "Okay, just let me know if you're uncomfortable with anything." "Uh-huh." "You want to suck my tittie?" "Yeah."
Fragments of the evening start to return to me. Bits I'd apparently blocked out. The bits of her being kind, gentle and accommodating. Just like Jared was. Did I try to make her out to be aggressive and cruel to justify my ... limp dick?
Finally taking off my trainers, I look at Jared's messages. She'd obviously told him what happened, they were all full of concern.
How do I reply? How do I tell him how my dick was shrivelled at the sight of a hot, naked chick? How can I tell him she wasn't able to make me feel like he did?
`Im okay just wasnt ready' I hope the lame attempt at reasoning is enough for him.
As I re-read his messages, the urge to go to him rises in my gut. There's nothing I want more at the moment than to be comforted by him, for him to tell me everything's okay and that it doesn't mean anything and that I'm still straight and I just need to get to know her better first. For him to just hold me.
I miss being with Jared. Everything's so easy with him. Everything just feels ... right.
"Does that make me gay?"
The question hangs in the quiet emptiness of my room.
I know what the answer should be, but for some reason, my usual dismissal doesn't come.
No, I can't be gay!
`Why not?'
Because ... I don't want to be? Because I've spent my life mocking gay people, being told how wrong and disgusting it is. Spent my life trying to convince everyone around me I'm not gay because if they thought I was gay then my life would be over.
That's not just being overly dramatic either. The only time you ever heard of a gay person in my school were in stories about how they'd ended up in hospital. Whether this is true or not I don't know. I never actually knew any of the people who'd supposedly been caught being gay and beaten. All I knew was that was never going to be me!
But meeting Jared, all the things I'd heard about gay people; how they're all full of disease, they're all pedo's and they're all less than a man, just don't seem to apply. Sure he's camp, but he's a better person than all the twats I've grown up with.
Though, the fact I agreed to meet him in the first place suggests I knew this. Somewhere, deep in my scared brain, I knew gay people aren't what I've been told they are. I'd never met a gay person, however, I knew everything I knew about them was a lie.
Is it because I'm secretly ...
I can't bring myself to say the word.
If I were gay that would mean ... that would mean ...
`What would it mean? The guys will reject you? You've already rejected them.'
That's true. They're no longer a part of my life. Not if I can help it anyway. Even if I'm forced to be with them, I can just not tell them.
I wouldn't need to tell anyone ...
Wait, am I thinking about being ... No, I can't be. It isn't me, I'm just not ... I ain't ...
`You aren't what?'
Standing up, I look around my room. I need something, anything to get away from my own mind.
Looking at my phone, I've got another message from Jared.
`Nothing wrong with that. Sorry if I pushed you. I didn't think about whether or not you'd be ready. Sorry!'
I can't help but laugh out loud. He thinks he's somehow at fault for trying to set me up with a hot girl. I mean, why wouldn't he think I'm ready? All the things we've done together, surely doing them with a girl would be easy for me. I mean, I'm supposedly straight after all. Aren't I?
I need some way to test it. I need to reassure myself that I'm not ... like Jared.
For a moment I think about meeting with Jared, however, there's ... history there. Plus we'd agreed not to do that sort of thing anymore.
I then thought about Darren; he seemed willing to do things with me. However, he's my friend. The only person I know who I'd actually call that now. If I'm to recreate what happened last night I'd need someone I've never met before. Someone who has the same unfamiliarity that I faced.
Dont blame yourself.' Not your fault'
I give Jared a quick reply before re-downloading Grindr.
For a moment I feel a bit of shame, downloading an app for gay guys, but I quickly shake it off. I need to do this. I need to know if it's just me or if I'm ... straight. Maybe I'm mostly straight, I just have a thing for Jared. Maybe it's my feelings for Jared that caused me not to be able to go through with it with his friend.
The app downloaded, I sign in and check to see who's around.
The `fit lad' is close to me again. Do they just hang out in the fields, hoping to meet someone, or is there someone on the estate that's also gay? There are a few young guys that it could be.
I check my message. I've had a few since I'd left the app. For once I decided to take my time, look at the profiles, look at what they look like. See if I find any of them attractive.
Unfortunately, they're all from guys over 30. The thought of meeting with someone older scares me. It brings back memories of all the times my mum told me not to trust strangers. It would usually conjure up images of older men trying to entice me into vans or cars or bushes.
Deleting the messages, I look to see if any of the other profiles stand out to me. A lot of pictures of abs, chests, legs and blank profiles. Those with faces either don't interest me or are of older men.
I also have a quick look through; see if Jared's on. If he is on this might get really awkward. Thankfully, I don't see the picture of his smiling face, scarf and red jacket.
After getting a few messages from people that don't interest me, I decide to fill out my profile a bit.
`New to this.'
Okay, now what else? A lot of profiles say what they're looking for. But, what am I looking for? I doubt anyone will reply or want to meet if I just put `see each other naked to see if I get a boner'. I also doubt many would be willing to just meet up to wank. Plus, that wouldn't be recreating last night. How far did I go?
The night's mainly a blur of shame and embarrassment now, however, I do remember having her pussy in my face and her pulling my trakkies down.
`New to this. Only looking to give and receive blow jobs.'
Advertising that I'm looking to give and receive head from a guy causes butterflies in my stomach. I can't say it feels wrong, just that it scares me. But could I actually suck another guy? I guess that'd truly be the test.
`New to this. Only looking to give and receive blow jobs. No old men.'
Short, but I hope it gets the point across. For a moment I think about putting `no faceless', however, that would be pretty hypocritical of me as I've not got a pic. The thought of putting a face pic on here terrifies me.
After reading a few more profiles, I find a phrase often used that can help.
`New to this. Only looking to trade blow jobs. No old guys. Have pics willing to trade.'
Satisfied, I continue to look through the guys. A wave of relief starts to wash over me. The nerves disappear as profile after profile fails to catch my interest. None of the actual faces encourages me to send them a message. Well, I admit, some of the ab pics were giving me ... feelings. However, I've always wanted abs like these guys, so maybe it's just a desire to have the abs and not the guy. I did think about messaging one of the ab guys, but the thought of having to tell them I'm not interested after seeing a face pic scares me away from it.
I was starting to think the test was a success; there's no guys out there that actually attract me. Jared's just some weird outlier. He's somehow tricked my brain into being attracted to him, despite being a guy. Maybe his effeminate charm snuck him through my brain's defences.
That was until I came across `Dayle'.
He looks serious in the pic. His red lips straight, his heavy-lidded brown eyes looking at the camera. His brown fringe slicked up and back. A stud earring in his left ear. I can just see the collar of a polo shirt before the border of the picture cuts it off.
My breath catches a little as the word `hot' echoes through my mind.
I swallow hard as I notice my hands slightly trembling as I click to view the profile.
Dayle 19 Online now 1 miles away Don't know what to put in these. I guess I'm just looking to see what's around. Be around my age. Have a picture. Don't be rude or creepy. Height: 5'8" Gender: Male Position: Vers Top Body type: Slim Relationship status: Single I'm looking for: Dates, friends, chat, relationship, right now
I read it a couple of times. I'm not sure what vers top' orright now' means, but he's single, slim, 19 and ... good looking?
Well, there's something about him at least. Whether I'm attracted to him or not I can't say.
`Or won't say'
But, he's caught my eye at least. Should I message him?
The only thing that gives me pause is the `Have a picture' part. Does he only reply to people with a pic in their profile? Or just someone willing to send a picture?
`Hey'
After a moment's hesitation, I go for it. A short `hey' seems to be the norm on the app. At least it's what I usually get. That or dick pics.
Taking a deep breath, I put my phone down and get changed. I spent the morning in the clothes I wore last night and slept in. The navy blue is a constant reminder of what happened.
Quickly shedding it all, I put on a white polo shirt and some black footy shorts.
Checking my phone, my stomach flips as `Dayle' has replied to me.
Hey.' Pics?'
Butterflies have somehow entered my still flipping stomach. What pic do I send him?
Scrolling through my phone, I'm reminded how I hate them all. Even the one Jared took.
Starting to panic -worrying he'll block me if I take too long to answer- I switch to camera mode.
Taking a couple of selfies, I delete each one. Either I look like a convict or way too goofy.
Think Dean, think. In some of the profile pics, guys have used a mirror to get a picture of themselves.
Rushing to the bathroom, I try to get an actually good photo.
The phone just below my neck, I take a couple to choose from.
With the added distance, my smile doesn't look as goofy as it did when trying to take a selfie. I look ... cute?
Sending him the pic, I go back to my bedroom. I've never complimented myself before. Always thought of myself as too small, too skinny, too weak, too quiet, too shy. Not manly enough. A view backed up by the people I spent most of my teenage years with.
Cute' How are you?'
Dayle replies pretty quickly.
That word again.
I suppose I've always been "cute". Short, skinny, slightly upturned nose. Ears are a little big. Girls have always called me cute. Usually followed by giggles and laughter. Guys pinching my cheeks. Mocking. Yeah, I'm cute, but that's not a good thing. At least to those people.
However, I guess I am cute and the fact that Dayle's continuing to message me suggests it is not a bad thing here.
Thanks.' You're...'
I hesitate. The message unfinished and unsent. Do I really send him a compliment back? Do I use the word I thought when I first saw him?
`You're hot'
I cringe slightly as I send it.
`I'm good. How are you?'
I quickly send another message. Trying to move on from the compliments.
Thanks.' I'm all good thanks.'
We message a bit. Nothing overly interesting, just saying what we do, what we're interested in. Small talk. I felt proud to be able to say I work on doing up houses with my uncle. I no longer feel like a failure, sitting at home. No job and no future.
`You got any more pics?'
On the plus side, he seems to still be interested. On the negative, I have to take more pictures.
`Sure.'
I just take a selfie this time. Making sure I don't look like a complete twat, I don't spend too much time worrying.
He sends a few back, a couple more of his handsome face, the last one being a shirtless pic, taken in a bathroom mirror.
I get a tingle through my body as I check out his abs. Not as defined as the abs on the other profile's, but defined enough to make out six bumps on his creamy white stomach. His pecs have a bit of definition as well. I also take a liking to his little, dark pink nipples. He also has pretty big traps, giving him the look of someone who's recently started working out.
`Very nice'
The message is sent before I can think to stop it.
Lol thanks' any of your body?'
My mouth suddenly dries as I have a slight panic attack. I'm not nearly as buff as him. Would my skinniness turn him off? Should I care? I mean, I'm only trying to meet someone to see if I can go through with it. Not like I actually need his approval or anything. Hell, if he doesn't like me I'll just find someone else. Or not.
Controlling my breathing, I once again go to the bathroom.
Taking off my shirt, I tremble as I take the pic and send it to him before I chicken out and scrap the whole thing.
Looking at my pic in Grindr I feel embarrassed. My pecs pretty much just merge into my body, only the slightest of definition in them. Though, I do notice a slight bulge down the centre of my torso. Not much, but there seems to be the beginnings of some definition in my own abs. Sure, it's just two, long, bumpy lines. No separation of the individual abs, but maybe working with my uncle has started to give me some muscles.
I start to feel a bit giddy at the possibilities as I put my shirt back on, reading Dayle's next message.
`Nice. Twinks are just my type.'
I still have no idea what a twink is, but it seems to be a good thing. At least Dayle seems to think it's a good thing.
`Lol thanks'
I can feel myself blushing as I lay down on my bed; feeling like a little kid that's been given a lollipop for being good.
Hey, I'm just about to watch the new Shang Chi.' Want to come over and watch with me?'
The butterflies and stomach gymnastics return. This is it. This is the moment of truth. Do I go through with it? If I don't. If I stay in my room. If I don't take the opportunity now, I'll be left in my confusion. The thoughts of am I or aren't I slowly driving me mad. However, if I go I might not like what the answer is. What if I go and stuff happens? What if I don't run like I did last night? What if I ... enjoy myself?
`Okay. Where you live?'
I have to go. I can't wuss out on this one. I need to once and for all prove to myself that I ain't gay!
`Great!'
He sends me his destination. Not surprisingly, he doesn't live too far away from Jared or his friend. He'd told me he was a uni student. Studying biology. Well, it's a little more complicated than that. Something to do with gene's and shit, but it's basically biology.
It seems like most people on this app are only here for uni. Which, if my mum's rantings are to be believed, isn't a shock. Apparently, there used to be a thriving working community here once, however, places closed and businesses moved away. In their place, we've become a university town, along with high-end houses for rich twats wanting a summer house nearer to the coast. Those who used to work here either moved away or ended up in the slums. Like us.
Cool.' I'll be about 20 minutes.'
Getting off the bed, I go to my wardrobe. Looking through the trakkie tops and pants, I don't want to wear any of them. I've never thought much about fashion, I've just worn what everyone else was wearing. Fitting in was more important than having any form of personal identity.
Desperately looking for something, anything different, I see a pair of white cargo shorts I got a year ago when we went down to Cornwall on holiday (my mum was very clear that I wasn't to wear trakkies all week). Taking them, I just hope they still fit. I mean, I doubt I've grown that much in the last year.
A little shorter than they were and a bit tight, but they just about still fit.
Putting on my shorts, I quickly reapply some putty on my hair and deodorant. Giving myself a look in the mirror I take several deep breaths. I can do this. Next time I'm here I'll be assured in my straightness. Yesterday a mere blip. Yeah, that's why I'm feeling so excited.
I take my tan suede jacket off the coat rack by the door and head out.
Ignoring the mingle of horrible smells, I exit the stairwell into the bright light of day. Checking my phone, it's just past 12.30. For a moment I worry about someone noticing me, however, except for a family taking their children to the fields with a football, there's no sight of anyone I'd have to make any excuses to.
Taking the route that's beginning to become a bit too familiar, I walk past Jared's house and the street his friend lives on. Looking down the road, I feel bad for running off on her. She seemed nice. Maybe I can see her again and apologise in person one day. If everything goes well, maybe continue where we left off.
Carrying on a bit further, I reach Dayle's street. Walking to his door, I notice how these houses are different from the student housing I've visited before. Bigger. Older perhaps.
Pushing the buzzer that said `4' like Dayle had told me, I wait a moment.
I start to think about the first time I knocked on Jared's door. How nervous I was. How I feared people seeing, as if they'd see me there they'd instantly know I was there to see a gay guy and be instantly outted as ...
I jump as I hear the sound of the door in front of me being unlocked and opened.
Quickly composing myself, Dayle's smiling face causes a slight flutter in my chest. "Hey man, good to see you. Come on in." I'm slightly shocked. His voice is deep, manly, with a slight northern lilt to it. "Hey, thanks." I walk past him as I'm met by a long corridor, a flight of stairs on the right disappearing beyond the ceiling in a spiral.
"Didn't take you long." Dayle walks past me and up the flight of stairs. My eyes are drawn to his ass as they move in his blue jeans. "Uh, yeah. Walked past here many times." I also take in his t-shirt stretched over those muscular traps. "Met other people on this street have you?" Dayle looks back at me, his right eyebrow raised. "What? No, it's on the way to town." I stop in shock as I realise I had made it sound like I'd be whoring my way through the street. "Ah, right. I only just moved in this week. Was in uni halls last year, so never really been this way before." He continues up another flight of steps. I'm beginning to see why it took him a while to get to the door.
In fact, his room's right at the top. Four flights of stairs away from the door.
Unlocking the door, he shows me into the room. Which is only a room. Does he need to go all the way to the bottom to go toilet? Or for food?
Looking around the limited space, it's obvious this was once the attic of the house. Starting high, the roof slants down to the right of the room, ending in a window.
Moving past his double bed, Dayle sits down on a large bean bag next to the window, opposite a small flat screen tv.
Patting the space next to him, I slowly move over to him, ducking down further and further before almost having to crawl as I get to the bean bag and sit next to Dayle.
As big as the bean bag is, it's just about enough room for two people. It means there's no space between us. I can feel his warmth as my shoulder is forced into his, my right arm on top of his.
I blush as I look over to find him staring at me, a sly smile on his deep, moist, red lips.
I quickly look at the TV sitting on a small cabinet, a PS4 nestled inside.
I feel him move next to me as his right hand moves into my view reaching for the controller.
In awkward silence, he chooses the film and settles back down next to me.
"Hey, you want to take off your jacket?" With the opening credits rolling, Dayle moves to give me some room and a hand as I remove the suede material.
Still unable to look at him, I let him take the jacket and put it on the floor next to him.
Watching as the Marvel intro plays, I feel Dayle settling back into the bean bag, however, this time I feel his arm move behind me, his left hand now gently holding onto my left arm. This movement, along with how the bean bag force you into the middle means I'm now snuggling up to Dayle's side.
I try to control my breathing as I try to think about what to do next, however, this just means I'm breathing in the heady smell of his deodorant. It smells manly and somehow ... sexual? Maybe all those Lynx ads about how they attract women aren't bullshit after all? There's definitely something in the way he smells that's making me a bit flustered.
With the movie starting, I notice how uncomfortable I am. My right arm pressed against Dayle's side, I feel a bit squished.
Closing my eyes, I move my arm, reaching behind Dayle, sliding between him and the bean bag, my hand settling on his t-shirt covered hip. I feel him look at me as I give the muscles underneath the cloth a quick squeeze.
Something about this small action sends a shiver through my body.
I feel Dayle move his hand up my arm, moving under the short sleeve of my polo shirt to sensually rub my shoulder.
My whole body is trembling as I slowly, carefully, move my own hand under his shirt, touching the scorching hot skin covered oblique muscle.
`You can do this. Just need to move this on to being more sexual so I can prove I ain't gay and leave.'
Dayle's hand leaves my shoulder, his fingers now lightly touching my left cheek.
Opening my eyes I turn to find him still looking at me. Swallowing hard, I'm lost in his eyes and beautiful lips as they start to come closer.
"Um, I've, uh, I haven't." I try to whisper out an excuse to avoid the kiss. "It's okay, I'll go slow."
His moist lips touch my own, dry, trembling mouth. The pressure is so light, before moving slightly back.
I close my eyes as I move my face towards his, our lips once again touching, this time harder.
His left hand holds me as our lips caress each other, the soft smoothness easing and massaging my nerves, stopping the trembling as my right hand grabs onto him.
Something about the feel of the smooth, hot skin and the hard, powerful muscles below causes a surge of energy and desire through me.
Moving my left arm, I grab hold of his right pec through his t-shirt. His erect nipple tickles the palm of my hand as I clench and unclench my hand, feeling the muscle, but the cotton shirt stops me from really feeling it.
Dayle moves his left hand from my face, dragging it down my back to rest on my left butt cheek that's been raised off the bean bag as I lean myself into him.
Having enough of his shirt, I move my hand under it. My fingers feel the bumps of his abs as it pushes up the t-shirt, allowing me to grab a hold of his chest. My palms are now able to feel the full force of his hard nipple, my fingers digging into his flesh, fully feeling the tight skin and solid muscle underneath.
Something about being able to grab and feel the full weight of his pecs increased my desire, wanting to feel more of him. Wanting to have both hands filled with his strength.
I'm not sure when it happened, but our sensual kiss has turned into trying to press our faces together as close as possible. Our lips forcibly push together as his tongue battles my own. Animalistic grunts and moans just about able to escape during the split seconds we part for breath.
I can feel the hand on my ass pushing me, encouraging me to get closer. Without thought, I fling my left leg over him, planting it on the bean bag, getting on my knees and straddling his lap. Our lips only part for a moment before he grabs the back of my head with his right hand, forcing them together again.
My right hand now free, it joins my left up his shirt. Both hands are now on his pecs, the palms feeling like fire as they grab and push against the steely muscle. My hands only leave when Dayle raises his arms, indicating for me to remove his shirt.
With a little difficulty thanks to the low ceiling, the horrible material is thrown to the side. Not only am I now able to feel, but also see his hot chest.
I'm suddenly aware of Dayle's hands grabbing both of my ass cheeks. But not over my shorts, skin on skin contact. For a moment I wonder how he got his hands between the tight waistband, however, it was quickly silenced by the thrill and erotic sensation radiating out from my cheeks and hands.
After taking off his shirt, we hadn't gone back to kissing. We just look into each other's eyes as our hands grab flesh and our bodies gently thrust against each other.
I feel the heat rising in me as his fingers dig into my skin, pushing my cheeks together before he pulls them apart, a slight breeze tickling my hole before I feel the tip of his finger gently touch the sensitive wrinkled skin.
"Ah! OW!" Startled, I shoot up and away from his hands, hitting my head on the ceiling. "Oh my god, are you okay?" Dayle's hands quickly moved from my ass to my head. Gently he pulls me close to him, my head resting on his chest as he rubs at the painful spot.
We sit like that for a while, catching our breaths. My face between his pecs, feeling their power as they rise and fall.
"Yeah, sorry. Was just a shock." I look into his eyes as we both smile, going in for another kiss. "Let's move to the bed. More room there." We both give a slight laugh as I carefully get off of Dayle's lap. Making sure to avoid hitting my head again.
Once I stand up, my shorts fall to the floor. Somehow, Dayle managed to undo my shorts without me noticing. I was obviously too distracted by playing with his muscles.
Though what I do notice when looking down is a large bulge and wet spot in my boxers.
Dayle moves past me, removing his jeans before he gets on the bed.
Laying in front of me, his own erection is very clear to see.
I hesitate a moment. If I go to him now it won't be a part of my test. The erection in my boxers answers that. No, everything now is just because I want to.
Removing my polo shirt, I step out of my shorts and lay next to Dayle on the bed. His arms instantly envelop me and our lips meet once again.
With both of our bodies now shirtless, I can feel all his warmth as he presses his body into mine. I wrap my arms around his back as we thrust our hard cocks together, humping each other through our boxers. Our heat and desire build before he pushes me on my back and breaks the kiss.
Moving down my body, he takes my boxers in his hands and pulls them down my leg, a shock wave crashes through my body as he takes my cock in his right hand.
"Wait, wait. Let me do you first." Every fibre of my being is calling out, wanting Dayle to take my cock in his mouth, however, in a moment of clarity, I know if I cum I won't be able to suck him. I know for a fact that once the horniness has gone, so will I. "Uh, sure." With a moment of uncertainty, Dayle lets go of my cock and moves back up next to me.
Giving a heavy breath, I reach over to Dayle, once again feeling his right pec, moving my right leg over him so his body is underneath me.
Slowly going down his hairless, ivory body, my fingers tracing over each individual muscle. This causes my dick to shiver and pulse. Looking between my legs, I see some droplets of precum being flung from my cock.
Sitting back on his legs, I take hold of his boxers. Pulling them away from his body and over his erect cock, I pull them down his hairy legs and over his feet. I notice a line of hair on the top of them as I go back to his crotch.
There it is. Laying along his stomach. Thick and long. How long, I don't know. I never asked. But at this moment it looks huge.
I swallow hard.
I can't remember a time when I actually wanted to see someone else's penis before. I mean, I've actively tried to avoid them, not even watching straight porn for fear of seeing one. Even with Jared's cock, it's been more of a curiosity. However, at the moment there's an obvious desire within me to not only see but to feel his hard, straight throbbing dick. The foreskin fully pulled back, revealing the wet, purple head.
I move between his now spread legs and reach out with my right hand, taking it in my hand and moving it away from his body. I can feel the warmth in my hand as I slide the silky skin slowly up, watching as the skin covers and bunches over his helmet, his precum bubbling over the now wrinkled skin.
Pulling the skin back down, tightening my grip to feel the full hardness, I know what I need to do. The head once again exposed, another pearl of precum appears. With my left thumb, I smear the sticky liquid around, causing Dayle to moan above me.
Can I really do this? Can I really suck another guy's cock? Maybe I can just jerk him off. Would that be enough? What does it taste like?
Bending down, the smell of Dayle hits me. Not the fresh coconut smell of Jared, but a more musty, earthy smell. It's not unpleasant. It's sexual.
Leaning down further, I hesitate. Am I really going to do this?
`You stuck your tongue in Jared's ass.'
I did. And I enjoyed it. And a dick isn't as nasty as an asshole. Though, a girl has an asshole. They don't have a dick. Well, most don't. If I do this, then I can't justify it as practising for a girl. This will simply be me sucking a guy's dick for the sake of sucking a guy's dick. If I do this, there's no going back. No excuses. No justifications. The reasons will be obvious.
Though, if I didn't want this I wouldn't be here. If I didn't want this I wouldn't have joined Dayle on the bed. If I didn't want this I wouldn't have come here. If I didn't want this I wouldn't have looked for someone on Grindr. If I didn't want this I wouldn't have come up with a test that required me to meet with another guy for sex.
If I didn't want this I wouldn't have met Jared.
Closing my eyes, I quiet my thoughts and stick out my tongue, touching the spongy head of Dayle's cock. Retracting my tongue, there's no taste to his precum. Nothing to stop me from going the full way. Nothing stopping me from sucking another guy's dick.
Placing my mouth over his cock, my lips being warmed by the contact, I stick out my tongue again, licking at the top of his head, trying to taste anything that will cause me to stop.
Finding nothing, I move my mouth further down. Over the head, down the shaft, feeling Dayle's power fill my mouth.
Trying to fit as much in my mouth as I can, the head eventually hit the back of my throat, causing me to slightly cough and sputter.
"You're doing great, just take what you can." With his soothing words, he places his hands at the back of my head. Gently massaging my scalp.
I should feel trapped, but I don't. I just feel encouraged.
Thinking back to how Jared made me feel good when he sucked me off, I back off his cock to the head, licking as I go. Once at the top, I instantly go back down. This time I only take a bit of his cock, making sure not to choke.
Opening my eyes, my vision is filled with Dayle's trimmed pubes and sparsely hairy thighs.
Getting a good rhythm going with my mouth, I start wanking the rest of his cock with my right hand. This ain't bad. It's just a long, hard, warm, throbbing piece of flesh. No bad tastes. No bad smells. Coupled with the moans and groans coming from Dayle, I feel kind of good sucking him off.
My own saliva dribbles down his shaft, acting as lube for my fiercely wanking hand. A couple of times I even hit my own face.
"Play with my balls." Dayle's voice comes out in a rasp.
I move my left hand below his cock, finding his balls pulled up to the base of his shaft. The hairs tickle my palms, as I feel the orbs inside his sack. They feel kind of weird moving around in my hand, but kind of cool.
His cock in my mouth and balls in my hand, it feels ... okay. It doesn't feel wrong. I don't feel grossed out or somehow less of a man. I just feel horny and good that I'm making him feel good.
I don't know how long I've been sucking for, but long enough for my jaw to start aching. Coming off his cock, I continue to wank his cock.
Looking up at Dayle, he's just looking down at me. His left hand clenched in a fist, resting on his chest, his eyes misty and half-closed.
The precum and saliva covering his cock make a squelching sound as I speed up, sensing that he's close to cumming.
He doesn't make a noise. He just looks me in the eyes as he moves his hips off the bed, his cock getting harder as several drops of cum shoot out of his cock. There's no pause between shots, just a continuous stream of cum landing on his stomach and pubes. I'm not sure how many he shot, but there's a deep, creamy line of cum from his pubes up just past his belly button.
Most miss my hand, but there's a slight dribble that rests on my thumb.
With a sudden release of breath, Dayle's body relaxes, his hips falling back onto the bed, slipping out of my grasp as he starts panting.
"Heh, thanks. That was. Awesome." I sit back on my heels, watching his chest heave as he catches his breath. Feeling a little awkward, my cock still hard and bobbing before me. "Okay, your turn." With sudden energy, Dayle lurches from the bed, grabbing me under my arms and throwing me back on the bed.
I can't deny that the action made me feel ... something.
I make a sound of surprise as he wastes no time. Before my body has stopped bouncing, he's between my legs and has my cock in his hand.
I gasp as he swallows me down, my cock disappearing into his mouth. His hands-on both thighs hold me down as he powerbombs up and down my shaft.
I scream out at the sudden and sharp pleasure that tears its way through my body. I can't keep still as my sensitive head sends wave after wave of electricity through me.
All thoughts of trying to make it last are silenced when I feel the sensations swelling up from my balls. It can't be more than two minutes and my cock feels like it's about to burst as I feel my cum surging through my shaft.
I can't stop the gasps and moans of pleasure as Dayle's tongue massages my head, swallowing each drop as they shoot out of my cock. I can't keep my hips still as it feels like a gallon of cum pours out of me. Two weeks worth of cum pours down his throat, all the tension, worries and fears disappearing, until I'm an exhausted, panting, sweaty wreck.
I lay, swimming in a numb calm, barely registering Dayle releasing my cock and getting off the bed.
"So, want to finish the movie? Though, we'd probably best start from the beginning. Don't think either of us were paying attention." I open my eyes to see Dayle's handsome smile as he wipes his stomach with a towel. "Uh, sure." Sheepishly getting off the bed, I start to look for my clothes.
Now clean, Dayle throws the towel away and grabs the duvet off the bed. For a moment I thought he was going to put it in the wash, however, he walks back to the bean bag, sitting down with the duvet over him - still naked.
Lifting the edge, he beckons for me to come join him.
My cock still semi-hard and wet, I fold my arms over my chest and shuffle into the open blanket, my bare ass feeling the bumpy material.
Once settled, Dayle closes the blanket around us, restarts the movie and puts his arm around me. Drawing me in closer as I snuggle against him, my head eventually resting on his shoulder as I watch the action on the screen.
What does this all mean?
Not only have I met another guy on Grindr, but we've sucked each other off and I'm now sitting, snuggled up to him watching a movie. And the weirdest thing? I've never felt so calm. It's like all the voices, the demons and monsters have been silenced.
After the times with Jared, it was like I had to quickly go. If I stayed too long I wouldn't be able to return to my previous life. That something would change forever and it scared me.
However, here, with Dayle, I don't feel the need to get back to my old life. Hell, I don't want to go back to that life. The fear, the self-loathing, the isolation, the unhappiness. I don't feel if I stay here that anything will change.
The movie was pretty cool. Good action. Well acted. Not quite on the scale of Spider-man or Iron Man though.
Getting dressed, we didn't really say anything to each other. Just kept giving each other occasional glances and smiles.
He walks me the many flights of steps back to the door, even though I told him he didn't need to, but he said he needed to get a drink anyways. So, two birds one stone. Though, this does mean he does have to go all the way to the ground floor to get food and drink.
"Good to meet you, Dean. Hopefully see you again, yeah?" I look back, his handsome face and clean-shaven jawline, I can't help but smile. "Uh, yeah. Sure." I give him a smile and a wave as he closes the door and I walk down the street.
There's an odd feeling inside me. Uncertainty. I've spent so much of my life being what I believed I was supposed to be, what I thought everyone wanted me to be. What I thought would keep me safe and free from the worst of the bullying, that now that I've no need for that life, I'm not sure ... who I am.
Shaking myself from my thoughts, I check my phone. I have a message from Jared. Seeing his name causes me to have a pang of guilt. Did I just cheat on him? No, we were never ... like that. Plus, he finished that sort of thing off with me. Still, I feel a bit bad.
Still, I feel bad. If you need to talk just let me know.' At least I'm not alone in feeling bad. Thanks' `Might take you up on that.'
The Grindr symbol is also showing.
Not that I have any desire to meet anyone else, even though my dick never fully went down the full time we watched the movie, I'm just curious to see who's been messaging me.
Loading up the app, I'm instantly drawn to the message from `fit lad' - the mystery guy that might live on the same estate as me. The preview said [photo received]. Maybe I'll be able to see who it is. Maybe I'll just find out what his dick looks like.
Clicking on it, I read the simple `Hey' and almost drop my phone when I see the pictures. One of his naked torso, the other a face. The face of Darren.
If you've enjoyed feel free to drop me a message at: bootusrim@gmail.com. Also check out my other stories:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/the-morality-of-cheating https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/desperate-times/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/might-and-magic https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/pretty-boy-and-the-pauper https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/dare-squad