I'm straight.
Nothing queer about me, no, sir.
Not that I have anything against gays, I'm not homophobic or anything, I' m simply straight. I've never had sex with a guy. (Unless you count that time with Willy Smith when I was twelve, and we felt each other`s. . ., well never mind.) I'm married, and I fuck my wife regularly, not quite as often as I' d like, but at least once a month.
I live in one of two isolated houses at the end of a dirt road about ten miles out from a small Arizona town. If you step over the fence that marks the end of the road, and keep going, you'll walk more than 150 miles before you see another road or building. It's high desert country, rolling plateau, with the occasional arroyo, just scrub and cactus and rocks. Lots of rocks.
Every day I walk the two dogs, mine and my neighbor's, out into the desert, for a couple of hours. In all the years I've been doing this, I've never set eyes on a single soul out there: no hunters, no cattlemen, no rangers, no people at all, just rabbits, deer, coyotes, lots of quail and one time, a wild pig. It's like having my own back yard of a hundred thousand square miles.
We've worn our own trail, out about three miles, to a small rise, not quite a hill, with a commanding view of the surrounding desert, and a large mesquite tree on the top, which gives a few patches of shade. We rest there, then come home.
Early one day last month, I rounded up Bandit, my border collie, and went next door to get Buster, my neighbor's black Lab. We never lock our houses out here, there isn't any crime. I simply walked into his living room and called Buster. His owner, Jason, was, as usual, asleep. I like to get an early start, before the day heats up, and he's one of those late guys who sleeps in and goes to bed in the early hours. He's single, and from time to time he'll get a room-mate, always male, who'll stay for a few weeks and then take off. It seems to be a pretty lonely existence to me. He may be gay, but I don't care.
The two dogs and I set off up my private trail, and after an hour, we reached the tree at the top of the hill. I sat down in the shade and took a hit from my water bottle. The dogs lay down, panting, trying to lose body heat.
I needed to take a piss, so I simply stood up, pulled out my dick and let fly. The great thing about being in the desert is that there's no one to see you, so you don't have to hide behind a bush or a tree. I could see for about three miles in any direction, an area of, say, seven square miles. When my bladder was empty, I gave it a good shake, pulling my foreskin back and forth and waving it vigorously. I hate getting yellow stains on my underpants. I am reminded of the childhood rhyme:
No matter how much you shake your peg,
The last drop always runs down your leg.
My dick became half hard, and I was feeling particularly horny that morning, not having bonked my wife for some time. I do jerk off regularly, like all of us, but I have to wait till she's out of the house, or asleep or something. It occurred to me that this would be a good time to relieve my pent up urges, so I dropped my shorts and pulled my T-shirt up over my nipples.
There I was, standing in my white Calvin Klein briefs, with my dick sticking out, stroking away. It was quite thrilling to be out in the open, able to be seen by any passer by, except that I knew there wouldn't be any. I did a pirouette, displaying myself in my underwear to an imaginary audience. Then I put both my hands down the front of my underpants, pulled the waistband out so the my dick retreated inside, then slid the briefs down to mid-thigh. I arched my back, thrusting my hips forward, so that my dick stood out like the bowsprit on a sailboat. Then my briefs fell to my ankles, and I said, "Fuck it," and pulled my T-shirt over my head. Now I was completely naked, for all the world to see, exposed and vulnerable, guilty of public masturbation, gross indecency and who knows what else, and I didn't care. In the back of my mind was the faint possibility that someone might actually be able to see me. I wasn' t fantasizing about anything, just getting a thrill from being completely nude and highly visible. The cool morning breeze felt good on my balls and butt cheeks. I would have plenty of warning in the unlikely event of anyone approaching.
Soon, my orgasm build to his climax and I shot half a dozen big globs of cum on to the desert sand. "Fuck," I said out loud, "That was the best wank I 've had in years." I wiped my dick on my T-shirt, then pulled my underpants back up, put my T-shirt back on and pulled up my shorts.
The dogs still lay in the shade, oblivious to all of this. Calling them, I began to hike back. I felt very pleased with myself. I had found a new jerk-off venue. Now I didn't have to worry about whether my wife would come home and interrupt me. I could do this every day and no-one would ever know.
The next day, I went as usual to collect Buster, and as I walked into Jason's living room, there he was, sitting in a pair of pale blue silk boxers, having obviously just got up.
"Hey, you're up early." I said.
"Couldn't sleep. Want some coffee?" I always take the opportunity to load up on fluids in the desert so I accepted his offer.
"Why don't you walk with us?" I asked. "By the time you get back, do some chores and have lunch, it'll be siesta time and you can catch up on your lost sleep."
"Good idea. Drink up and I'll go get dressed." After a few minutes, he came back dressed in tan slacks and a tan shirt. "Let's go." I drained my coffee cup and we headed out.
The walk was uneventful, just casual conversation, nothing of importance and eventually we came to the tree at the top of the hill.
"Time for a piss," I said, pulling out my dick. I didn't bother turning away from him, and when he pulled his dick out, he didn't turn away either. We were standing about two feet apart, not quite facing each other, our pee streams meeting in mid air. On an impulse, I told him about my previous day's public masturbation session, about how I'd enjoyed exposing myself, committing a lewd act in the open air for all to see. He laughed.
"I know what you mean," he said. "It's a 'naughty-boy' feeling, getting away with something that's forbidden."
"It was pretty hot, actually," I confessed.
"So how about a repeat performance?" he said, shaking the drops from his dick.
I hesitated. After all, I'm a straight guy, right? Here I was, waving my dick at someone who might very well be gay, pondering whether to get naked and jerk of in front of him. But already, my dick was nearly fully erect at the prospect, and I knew Jason could see that. I looked around, seeing only empty desert. Shit, I thought, why not?
Like the day before, I dropped my shorts and pulled my T over my head. Jason took an appraising look at me in my Calvin underpants, his own dick still sticking out of his pants and already beginning to rise. I began to stroke myself, pulling my foreskin back and forth, cupping my balls under the white cotton, with my other hand. "Wanna join me?" I asked.
"I thought you'd never ask," he said, dropping his pants to his ankles and starting to unbutton his shirt. I could see he had changed out of his blue boxers and was wearing a pair of tight, white low-rise briefs, his now stiff dick poking out of one leg hole. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and began to jerk off. Like me, he was uncut, with an average sized dick, as handsome as my own is. His body was nearly hairless, athletic but not overly muscular, like those ugly weight-lifting guys. To set an example, I dropped my own underpants to my ankles and continued to stroke my shaft. As expected, he followed suit, and we stood there, two good looking guys, naked, with big hard-ons, jerking off for all the world to see. He was staring at my dick, but I didn't care. The fact that he was looking at me added to the illicit thrill. Then he said, "We should practice energy conservation here. One guy can do the work of two."
"How do you mean?"
He stepped up close to me, pushed my hand aside, laid his dick alongside mine and put his hand around both. For the first time in my life, another man was touching my dick (that is, apart from Willy Smith back in . . . never mind). I wanted to withdraw, push him away, after all, I'm a straight guy, right? But the sensation of a foreign hand on my dick was too overwhelming and I couldn't bring myself to do anything but close my eyes and sigh.
"Shit, that feels so fucking good!" I murmured. I locked my hands behind my head, leaning backwards with my hips still thrust out, electric thrills spreading from my dick all over my body. The touch of his hand and the knowledge that his dick, his most private part, was actually touching my own, and that all this was happening in full view of the world, was too much for me to hold out. I wanted to make it last, but it was hopeless. My dick was now lying on top of his and I shot a big squirt of cum over his stomach, followed by several more. He slowed his strokes, milking the last cum from my dick, then scooped up a glob from base of his dick with his finger, and tasted it. I was somewhat shocked at this, but too carried away to be grossed out. I didn't mind what he did, he had given me the best sexual experience I had ever had, and he could do what the fuck he liked. I didn't care, because I was a straight guy, not interested in eating cum.
I stepped back, pulling up my underpants, while he finished himself off, shooting a great arc of white cream, which just missed me. A minute later, we were dressed, and started back.
The dogs had no comment.
The next day, when I came to collect Buster again, there was Jason, in his skimpy white low rise briefs. "Mind if I join you?" He started to put his shirt on.
"Sure," I said. "I'm glad you've started getting exercise on a regular basis."
Like the day before, our walk was uneventful, until we reached our tree.
The emptying of our bladders turned into another joint jerk off, but this time, it was I who grasped both dicks and stroked them lovingly, as we stood face to face, our underpants round our ankles, our bodies bare to the wind. Jason was the first to cum, splashing his white cream on my stomach and dick, and following his example of the previous day, I licked a little taste of if off my finger. It was not as unpleasant as I thought it would be, slightly salty, but creamy.
"You know, I like to play even after I've cum," said Jason. "Let me finish you off." He squatted down. Kneeling in the desert is not a good idea. Holding the base of my dick, he took the tip into his mouth. He started to do something unfathomable with this tongue, causing me pleasure so intense, it was close to pain. With his other hand, he caressed my balls. He treated my dick as an object of worship, fondling, stroking, tickling, licking, kissing, doing an incredible range of actions that made me feel like a god. It didn't take long before I felt myself cumming.
"Look out, here it cums!" I called, but he kept his lips firmly round the head of my dick, which swelled up and began to pulse as I shot my load into his waiting mouth. I looked down and saw him swallowing. Fuck, I thought, he likes that! I didn't think that I could ever swallow a guy's cum, after all , I'm straight, right?
Once again, the dogs displayed little interest.
When Jason appeared fully dressed at his front door next morning, I began to wonder if this was turning out to be a good thing. One of the great pleasures of my morning hikes had been the solitude. It was the time of day when I did my best thinking. But I could hardly turn him down, and so we set off up the trail with the two dogs. Despite my misgivings, as we approached the tree at the top of the hill, my dick began to stir in my Calvins. I knew we were going to have sex and the decision whether to or not was being made by my body, not my brain.
As before, things started with a long piss, the dropping of the shorts and pants, the mutual appraisal of each other's underwear.
"We should swap underpants sometime," said Jason.
"How come?"
"The thrill of being naked out in the open is nothing to the joy you'll get out of wearing another guy's underpants."
"I'll take your word for it," I said. After all, I'm straight, and this stuff doesn't really apply to me.
Jason pulled down my Calvins, so, just to keep things on an even keel, I pulled down his briefs, Jockey Pocos they turned out to be. He lifted my T shirt over my head, and I felt excited by the fact that another guy was undressing me. Like our displays, it felt `naughty', forbidden, and thrilling. I unbuttoned his shirt, realizing for the first time what a beautiful body he had, his smooth chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. He squatted down and pulled my underpants down till they dropped round my ankles, and took my dick in his mouth. Once again, his actions were driving me crazy and I wanted to make this thing last, so I pulled out of his mouth and pulled him to his feet. I could not believe it when I heard myself say, "Let me suck you." Where did those words come from? It was as if my body had taken charge, keeping my brain out of the loop.
I squatted down and took hold of his beautiful weapon, skinned back his foreskin and smelled the exciting aroma of dick. It was intoxicating. I slid his skin forward again and took his member into my mouth. It felt so silky smooth, yet hard, and I could feel Jason trembling with excitement. I bobbed my head back and forth, masturbating him with my lips, then played my tongue round the head, pushing it under his foreskin. I looked up at him, but I couldn' t see his facial expression as his head was thrown back. His hips began to buck and I felt the head of his dick swelling. I knew he was going to cum, but I couldn't bring myself to take his dick out of my mouth. It absolutely belonged in there. I felt it pulse, then the warm, wet feel of cum was on my tongue, filling my mouth, and it felt so good, so fulfilling to have his semen in me.
I swallowed, sucked some more and swallowed again, then milked his dick with my hand and licked the last few drops, swallowing those. I felt no revulsion, no guilt, just a feeling of triumph that I had sucked a guy off in full view of the entire State of Arizona.
"Where did you learn to suck like that?" he asked as I pulled up his Jockeys and tucked his dick inside.
"I've never done it before," I said. "I'm straight, remember?"
"Well, you're a natural." I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not.
Jason turned me round and pushed his face into the crack of my butt. I leaned forward to accommodate him, and felt his tongue touch my hole, pushing, trying to get in. At first, my ass was clamped shut, but then I relaxed and let his tongue do its work. It felt incredible, having my ass licked out in the open air. He reached around and finished me off by hand, with rapid strokes, and I shot a generous jet of cum on to the desert floor. The dogs gave it a sniff, but were not interested.
There was no sign of Jason the next day. I came into his living room and let Buster out to join Bandit and work off some energy. I went into his bedroom and he was asleep on the bed, the sheet thrown back, wearing his blue silk boxers. I sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and looked at him, lying completely relaxed and unaware of me. I unlaced my sneakers and kicked them off, then slid my shorts off and pulled my T over my head. There we were, both in our underpants, me with a hard on, and Jason, about to be sexually molested. With the tips of my fingers, I opened the fly of his boxers and peeped inside. There was his beautiful dick, soft and innocent, unaware of what was about to happen. With two fingers, I reached into his fly and gently pulled his dick out into the air. I heard Jason sigh and his dick began to grow. I knew he was now awake, but he didn't open his eyes or move. I took his dick between my lips and began to suck, playing with the end with my tongue, doing everything I could think of to be creative in my ministrations. He became rock hard, and I reach down to my own stiff dick and stroked it through the white cotton of my underpants. I could see us both in the mirrored closet doors, two guys having illicit sex, doing shameful things and not caring.
Jason's eyes opened. "You're fucking marvelous," he said. "What a great way to wake up. I have a treat for you."
"What is it?"
"Pull my underpants off. Thanks, now get on the bed and lie on your back." I did as he instructed. He sat up and pulled my dick out of the fly of my Calvins. Reaching into the drawer beside the bed, he produced a tube of KY and lubed my dick thoroughly. Then he knelt over me with his knees either side of my chest and slowly impaled himself on my dick. It slid right in painlessly.
"Does that hurt?" I asked.
"Only a little, at first, but it's worth it, believe me." He moved up and down, fucking himself on my dick. To me it felt just like fucking pussy, but tighter and much more exciting. This was really forbidden stuff. Straight guys didn't do this, fucking another guy was an absolute no-no, and because of this it was all the more thrilling. I was fucking a MAN, for fuck's sake, and don't tell anyone, but it was really great. Jason's lovely cock was only inches away and I thought that if he came, it would splash all over my face. I didn't mind, in fact, I wanted it to happen, and I would get to taste it again.
"Oh, God," he said, "That feels soooo fucking good. Fuck me! Fuck me!"
His words were such a turn on that I nearly came. Then his face came down and his lips met mine. What could I do? Here I was, a straight guy being accommodated up a gay guy's ass, pinned down unable to escape, so I thought, what the fuck, and went along with it. He put his tongue in my mouth. My dick is in his ass, I thought, it's a fair exchange. As I sucked on his tongue, something went off in my brain, and I came like a fucking rocket. Wave after wave of thrills passed through me as I shot jet after jet of cum into his love-hole. Just as my dick gave its last pulse, Jason's shot a white rope of jism on to my face and chest, followed by several more globs. I licked up what I could reach, and he collapsed on my chest, his breath coming in gasps.
"You've no idea how long I've been waiting for that," he said.
"Was it that good?"
"Oh yes," he said. "Better than you can imagine."
By the time I left to start my hike, the dogs were really pissed at having been made to wait.
Next morning I was early, coming into Jason's bedroom and throwing myself on to the bed beside him.
"I want you to fuck me," I said, as he woke up.
"Are you sure you're ready for it?" he asked.
"Jason, please, please fuck me," I cried, grasping his dick. "I'm begging you. I want your beautiful, hard dick as far up my ass as it will go. Fill me up with your cum, then stick it in my mouth and cum again. I've never wanted anything more in my life, so please, please fuck me."
"Are you sure you're straight?" he asked.
To be perfectly honest, at that point, I wasn't sure.
What do you think?
If you liked this, look for my other "White Brief" stories.