If you're under age and reading about sex between men isn't your thing please head elsewhere.
This is the first instalment of what will hopefully be a long-running series. Encouragement is welcomed Ð you can email me at davgra84@gmail.com with support, criticism, chat-up lines or whatever you fancy.
Enjoy!
Memoirs of an Invisible Gay
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- The Beginning - - -
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So yeah, I am (or rather, can be) invisible.
I don't know when I developed this ability. I just know the first time it happened. I woke up lying on my bed, my sheets down around my ankles, my stiff cock throbbing and leaking precum. My bedroom door swung open and my brother burst into the room. He looked `at' me, looked around the room, and then walked out. "He's not in his room!" he shouted, and I heard him running down the stairs.
I jumped out of bed, ran to the door and shut it gently. I picked up some boxers from the floor and stepped in to them. As I pulled them up, I looked up at the mirror on the wall.
My boxers were floating at knee height. And I wasn't there.
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- The Rules - - -
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There are two key rules. I didn't make them up, some creepy old guy didn't tell me them, I didn't have an illuminating dream. I just worked them out over time.
So firstly, I can control it, mostly. If I want to become invisible, it just happens. When I want to become visible, it happens. Just like that. It's like choosing to move an arm. But Ð big but Ð there's like a built in, subconscious safety mechanism. So if I'm in a room full of people who would see it happen, it doesn't work. Or if I'm invisible, and try to become visible where someone can see me, it doesn't work. Trust me, I've tried.
Secondly, only I become invisible. Not my clothes. So if I want to get invisible, basically I have to get naked first. And that means when I become visible again, I need access to clothes. And I can't carry them around with me in a bag, because there would be a floating bag. See, this isn't quite comic book stuff.
Oh, and when I say it's just me, I mean my body. Anything that comes out of me isn't invisible. What does that mean?
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- The Taste Test - - -
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I stayed at my best friend's flat one night when I was 25 or so, sleeping in the spare room. I woke up hungover and horny, and stroked my cock for a bit before deciding to take a wander around. I got completely naked and turned invisible, then slowly headed out of the room. I could hear my friend stirring; he was bumping around in his room. I headed into the bathroom and stood in an empty corner, gently playing with my cock and balls. About five minutes later, my friend came into the bathroom and locked the door. He took a piss, his long, limp cock shooting warm yellow into the toilet. He finished with a few shakes and tugs at his cock, which started to fill out ever so slightly, and then pushed his pants down to his feet and stepped out of them.
He walked to the shower cubicle, stepped in, and shut the door behind him. He turned on the water and stood under the shower head, the water instantly soaking his dirty brown hair and waterfalling down over his body. He shampooed his hair, rinsed, and then soaped his body. When he was rinsed off, he squeezed some moisturizer onto his hand and started to stroke his cock, which quickly hardened.
I stood on the opposite side of the cubicle door facing him, my hard cock in my hand. I matched him stroke for stroke, looking into his eyes as we jerked off. His body tensed, he reached his free hand up and grabbed hold of the top of the cubicle door. His hips thrust forward and he let out a grunt as he came, his jizz flying up and onto the cubicle door, rope after rope of thick cum. As he came, I matched him Ð more than matched him Ð as I shot one of my typically big loads onto my side of the glass.
He stepped back under the water to clean off again, and I gently moved back to the corner of the room. He turned the shower off and stepped out, drying himself off with a warm towel. As he turned to leave the room, he caught sight of the cum slowly running down the door. He opened the cubicle door to wipe the inside, but found that his cum had washed away. Closing the door again, he scooped up a bit of my cum on a finger and lifted it to his nose. He sniffed it, puzzled, and then licked it up. The look on his face was clear Ð he knew the taste of his own cum, and that wasn't it.
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- The Catch - - -
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Well, as far as I can tell (so far) there isn't one. I use my gift the way I think most horny young men would. Fun & games people, fun and games. I've known about my `special power' since that morning when I was 16. As I write this, I'm 29. I'm not bored of it yet. But I've found that what really turns me on is sharing my experiences. So that's what I'm going to do. Consider this an introduction to me and my life. The best is yet to come.
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- The Coda - - -
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I showed this to a skype friend, and he was like "you need to tell them more about you", so here's a bit more about me I guess: I'm just under 6ft tall, dark brown hair, green eyes, the makings of a six pack if I could ever be more committed to the gym, a fuzzy belly, a 7 inch uncut cock, and um, I think that's all you need to know ha. Check back for more stories. It makes me so horny to tell you what I've done with my `talent'. Catch you again soon.