Asssuming that I was gay has always bothered me to some point. Even before I was in my teens I knew this guy that was so flamboyant that he wore girl's pants with the zipper up the side and went by the name "Pepper."

I hated the thought that anyone would ever associate me with something like that. Then later, just as I was entering puberty I was raped by my fat queer cousin, which should have by all rights made me straight right then and there for life. Somehow I always believed that there would eventually be someone that looked straight, acted masculine and was of decent proportions that would find me, or I would find him.

Being rather well hung and at the same time rather shy, I was always aware of guys and girls grabbing a look at my pants when they thought I wasn't looking. It sort of made me into a closet exhibitionist. I knew what they were looking for and I got to the point that for the guys especially, under certain circumstances, I'd try to give them their money's worth, so to speak. I didn't care if they were straight or gay, if they looked, I'd be sure there was something to look at. It wasn't really hard because being pretty well endowed, my cock was never completely undetectable even in the largest of slacks or shorts.

Near my house there is a river park with some pretty rugged areas that I like to hike in. I enjoy the solitude as well as the exercise. One day while I was hiking around and just sort of goofing off, I spotted two guys just barely eighteen messing around by the river. They were trying to pull a little abandoned dingy in to the shore that had drifted out into the deeper water. I decided to hide in the bushes and just watch them for a while since they were both pretty cute and shirtless.

Once they got the dingy up on the shore it seemed their interest in it waned and it was no longer a project. They just sat on the shore talking and I noticed one of them seemed to be having a boner moment. His tight speedos were ripe with a straight rod that came all the way up to his waistband and though he would occasionally touch at it, the other guy seemed uninterested.

I was certainly interested. It was giving me wood like hell and I was seriously thinking of just walking down to the shore and letting them both have a good look at some real bulge. But that was only in my mind and though it contributed to my horniness to think about it, it was something I would never have the nerve to do.

While I was engrossed in my own erection for a moment I was startled back to reality by the language that came from the other boy. "Fuck you, you fag!" he was saying to the guy with the boner.

"I'm not a fag like you so get the hell away from me!" he told the other guy.

"Fuck you then." the bonner boy said, and he walked off toward the north end of the park.

Now I could have taken off after the rejected boy and suddenly bumped into him up the trail some but I was rather turned on by the challenge of the guy who claimed to be straight. I was butch,