Preferring To Go Straight

by kewtieboy

I’m sure any straight guys (and girls for that matter) who read this story will be disgusted at me for my deception. I am a confused creature as I really like straight guys. Now I mean straight guys, not bisexual, but really straight. This had led me to a few near misses as straight guys have a tendency to fancy women not other men. I know this sounds odd but they do. I have had to be very devious to get my wicked way since I have no urge to rape anyone and certainly not the strength to do it even if I had the urge. At 25, blonde haired and slightly built with a slim figure, I am not built for taking on the kind of guy that sexually appeals to me.

I haven’t been all that successful but the few successes have been pure heaven so I thought some people out there might be interested in them.

1. When United won the cup:

I can’t stand soccer but I love football fans. Groups of guys in heat over a subject as all consuming as football, drinking into the small hours while getting themselves excited over anything in a skirt, appeals to me. The trouble is, I may not be very effeminate, but I don’t come across as a full blooded heterosexual football thug. Hanging around in the bars they do, makes me stand out. However I broke my own guidelines one day after the FA cup final.

It was around 8.30pm on a Saturday night and the pubs were really busy. I was heading home for an early night having had a late lunch with enough wine to lower my guard. Walking towards me was a group of six guys, all wearing football tops and jeans. They would be in their late teens to early twenties and they were very drunk. Three were particularly attractive and one really stood out. He was lean, short cropped hair which was a bristle coating of redness as the short fuzz was growing back in. He was weaving and laughing and as he drew next to me he smiled, wandered across and shouted at the top of his voice, the news I knew guessed from their exuberance, that “United had won the cup.”

I smiled back and mumbled something like, “Yeh, great news,” to which he held both sides of my face, kissed me on both cheeks and then the lips and wandered back to his laughing mates.

“Come and join us,” he shouted as they meandered up the street.

I turned, as I tasted the trace of saliva left on my lips and the slight beery flavour, thought for about two seconds and then followed. They didn’t see me but within about 3 or 4 minutes, they had entered a pub and I followed. The pub was really busy and all the talk was football. The atmosphere wasn’t threatening in any way, more of a childish excitement. I bought a beer and stood watching the guys I had followed. They were drinking at a rate that left me agog. When my “target” went to the toilet, I followed and stood alongside him. He held himself upright by pressing his head against the wall while using both hands to hold his cock as he squirted into the urinal. His cock was normal size, and uncut but was enough to make my own cock rise and I had to cover it quickly lest he see.

He did