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  1. Living With A Gay Man - Part III

    [FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]But you never say never. I've already written here about the guy I fell in love with and the relationship we had while he lived with me and my wife (and kids) and he was simply amazing as a person and, yeah, probably more effeminate than my cranky USAF roommate. I loved him with all my heart and soul... but he still found a way to make me insane - he was a very emotional guy and he cried a lot, not because he was upset but because he said he was so happy about the way things were.

    It's hard to get into having your dick masterfully sucked when the guy doing it is crying happily while he's doing it; it's disconcerting to be fucking him and he's crying and all that, making me think that I was hurting him. He'd explain it, I understood it, but thought that I could get used to it and just ignore it... but I couldn't and it wasn't like I could "demand" that he not be so emotional while we were being intimate with each other.

    I'd talk to my wife about it... and she'd just laugh at me and remind me of my service roommate while telling me to be grateful my lover wasn't like that guy was.

    Getting him to fuck me was like pulling teeth without Novocain; he's they guy who really made me think about the whole top/bottom thing even though, at the time, those terms were unknown to me. We were in love and to be in love meant a deeper level of sharing and, intelligently, he understood that but no matter how much we talked about it, he'd wind up saying, "But I'm the girl in this, my love!" I got it... and didn't and I had to "make" him fuck me and "prove" his love that way and, yeah, I felt bad about it but, damn it, I wanted him like that and I was, by God, gonna have him like that.
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  2. Living With A Gay Man - Part II

    [FONT=comic sans ms][FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Moving off base eased a lot of the pressure of getting busted but didn't really make living with him any easier. He very much liked group sex and it wasn't unusual to have some guys over on the weekend for blowjob and fucking sessions that would last the entire weekend; you came over on Friday night, got naked, and stayed that way the whole time with the only exception of having to run out for something.

    While my youthful debauchery had me used to having sex with a bunch of guys watching and participating, oh, my god, my roommate's bitchiness would make an appearance big time. I'd be sucking a guy's dick and I'd have to listen to him saying shit like, "He doesn't suck my dick like that!" or, once, when I was fucking a guy, he was bitching about me having too much fun or that I didn't show that level of interest when my dick was in his ass - and sometimes he'd do this even when he should have been paying attention to the guy who was fucking him.

    Once, he made it a point to tell everyone in attendance one weekend not to have sex with me because I ate pussy and stuck my dick in it. Now, a lot of the guys who hung out with us were, in fact, bisexual like I was so they were both confused and annoyed about him being totally pissed off about that. One guy said to me while we were in the kitchen getting something to snack on, "Man, he's worse than a lot of women I know!"

    One Saturday, a friend of his came over while he was out at the store and when he got back and saw the two of us sitting there and talking, he immediately - and very loudly - accused us of fucking each other behind his back and wouldn't believe that his friend had only been there all of five minutes before he came in. After I told him I was two seconds from kicking his ass - and as expected - he wanted to kiss and make up with both of us and I wasn't having any of it so I left for a few to cool off; when I came back in, yep, there he was, on his back and getting dicked, which was fine with me.

    Then he got mad with me because I wasn't upset about seeing him getting fucked. I decided that I'd never get involved with an effeminate gay man ever again.
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  3. Living With A Gay Man - Part I

    [FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]I've had two chances in my life to reside with a gay man; the first time was in the USAF - and way before DADT was even thought of and guys who liked guys were very deep undercover to avoid the very much dreaded Bad Conduct Discharge (aka the Big Chicken Dinner) which would pretty much fuck you up once you got kicked out.

    It was an amazing experience; you live with a guy and really get to know him and, yeah, there's the sex... but his mannerisms out of uniform drove me insane. We weren't really or officially in a relationship but he sure as hell acted like it and when I'd come in from a date with a woman, he'd get really snarky and loud-talk me about having my dick in that "nasty ass pussy" or talking like I wasn't sitting there and saying shit like, "I don't know why he even bothers with those bitches..." and other things that, at one point, I had to tell him that if he didn't cut that shit out, it wasn't going to go well for him and if he really had a problem, he could always ask for a room transfer and get a roommate who would have to fight the urge to kick his ass.

    When he wasn't being a bitch - and I mean that literally - he was a great guy to room with; generous to a fault, really smart and funny and he was amazing in bed... but he also like to argue and, of course, his favorite topic was any time I came in smelling like pussy.

    "I'm bisexual," I said one night. "I like women and pussy, too, and I thought you were smart enough to understand that."

    "I understand it... I just don't fucking like it!" he shot back.

    "Too bad; it's not we're a couple so you don't get to tell me who I can use my dick on," I said and not for the first time.

    "That's my dick, asshole," he muttered.

    "Not if I say it isn't, you cunt," I fired back. Man, it was all I could do not to wrap my fingers around his throat and choke the life out of him.

    He'd want to fuss and fight - but not physically because he learned early on that fucking with someone who held two black belts in two martial arts wasn't a smart thing to do - then he'd want to kiss and make up and, yeah, I'd accommodate him if for no other reason than he wouldn't be talking a lot of dumb shit with my dick in his mouth.

    I was so glad when I did my time and decided to go home instead of reenlisting. I could have requested a new roommate... but then I'd have to explain why I wanted a new one and, to be honest, I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't have gotten us both kicked out.
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  4. My first time

    [COLOR=#000000]This is about my first time bottoming. This was in 2004 at the Leisure Time Theater in Florida. I had been sucking cock for a number of years, and topping willing bottoms. My gf loved to hear of my escapades especially with well hung guys. We'd watch porn and she'd finger me, staring with one finger, and working her way up to four. I had become very interested in bottoming, I loved the submissive aspect of it, But I was very frustrated because, I could not take a cock. I could never get them more than halfway up. Thankfully this all changed.
    [/COLOR][COLOR=#000000][INDENT]One afternoon I went to the leisure Time Theater, I was very horny, I was wearing a pull over shirt, and very short shorts, my cheeks fell out of them.[/INDENT]
    I was standing in the aisle watching the porn. A guy came up behind me and started caressing my bottom, made me dripping hard. He then began grinding his hard cock into me, while kissing and biting my neck, he made my bottom boil. I wanted his cock so bad!!!!
    He then started walking out of the theater towards the bathrooms, I quickly followed. He was standing by the sink, I went up to him and immediately got down on my knees, I unzipped his fly and took out a nice 6-7 inch cock, with nice girth Once his cock was in my mouth I deep-throated him, for quite a while. In the mean time a couple of guys walked in and where stroking their cocks watching. He hen pulled his cock out of my mouth, reached in his pocket and pulled out a lubed condom. I thought no way, but he didn't listen to me and bent me over the sink. I totally surrendered (a sweet surrender) He slid his cock between my cheeks, what a feeling. he began thrusting his nice fat cockhead in to me, and suddenly he popped in, felt so natural. He then began fucking me, spanking me calling me his little bitch.
    [INDENT]At this point the two guys stroking, one came in me face, and the other came on my back, it was so all erotic After a few minutes he began thrusting harder and harder, I could feel his cock getting fatter and fatter, to the point it began to hurt, but I didn't care I wanted him to cum. he stared groaning telling me how tight I was. A minute or two after he came, his cock slid right out me, I could see all the sweet cum in the condom. Everyone left and I was along with a gaping hole with cum dripping off of me. I wiped the cum from my nose and my chin, gobbling it up I was in ecstasy.[/INDENT]
    when I got home my gf was there, I told her what happened, she pulled my pants down, and was able to easily slide 3 fingers in me. She grabbed my cock to fuck her, I never felt her so wet and wide. When I entered her we could barely feel each other. She fucked me like crazy for the next three months, I was no longer a booty virgin.


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    Updated Jun 20, 2019 at 5:36 PM by tommyswing

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  5. Big

    One of my fantasies is being outdoors, naked, of course, with a muscular guy, who won't take no for an answer. I look at his huge, hard cock, knowing that thing is going to hurt, big time, if he rams it into me, as he obviously intends to do. But it is so big and yummy that I am soon on all fours, feeling his manhood penetrating me. I want him to stop. I was right. It hurts. A lot! But my new friend is not about to deny himself the pleasure of fucking my ass, and filling me with his cum. I hear myself moaning, in spite of the pain. Maybe only part of me wants him to stop..
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  6. On Getting Caught - Part III

    [FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Then there was this time: Yet another friend and I had a sleepover and we'd spent almost the whole night fucking and sucking each other and even calling ourselves being slick with tip-toeing to the bathroom to clean up between the action and it was a great night for both of us.

    In the morning and during breakfast, his father, out of the blue, started talking about when he was our age and all the trouble he used to get into and more so when he thought he was getting away with stuff. I don't know about my friend but my heart stopped beating and I felt like someone had dropped me into icy cold water - he knew! I didn't know how he knew but the way he was talking - and what he wasn't saying - was interpreted like this: I know what you boys were doing up there - and maybe because he did the same thing when he was our age - and by telling you this, I'm letting you know that I know and you're not as smart or slick as you think.

    He didn't come right out and say that he knew but that conversation convinced me that he knew... and we'd gotten a pass on it. I shared this with my friend and while he said he was sure his dad didn't know, I could tell by the way he said it that he didn't believe what he was saying.

    In the "we really didn't get caught in the act" department, a friend's father casually came over to me, placed a fatherly hand on my shoulder and said, "I just wanna thank you for being such a good friend to my son; he doesn't have a lot of friends and it's good to see him getting along with someone and the way he gets along with you."

    I said, "You're welcome..." but something in my mind was telling me that he meant what he said but there was something more to it... and I didn't have to wait long to find out what that was.

    "I know what you boys do when you come over to spend the night," he had said and I waited to get read the riot act. But, instead, he said, "I know that boys will be boys and I'm really glad that my son is enjoying being a boy. You know what I'm saying, don't you?"

    "I think so, sir," I said - and because I couldn't think of anything else to say as I stood there feeling like I was about to piss my pants.

    "Good. Keep being a good friend to my boy," he said, patting me on the shoulder and walking away.

    That shook me pretty badly and when I caught up with my friend a few minutes later, I told him what his father said to me along with my thought that he knew we were having sex with each other. My friend blanched - the color just drained out of his face like unstopping a sink and letting the water drain away but I told him that unless I was wrong, his dad was okay with it.

    I began to see what was to me a pattern and one I had a hard time punching holes in. I believed a lot of parents knew what their male children were doing with either their male siblings or friends but as long as they didn't get caught in the act, it was all good and, yeah, sometimes, a parent would drop a hint they knew or, as someone said in a recent comment to the getting caught thread, they'd make a lot of noise to warn us to stop whatever we were doing so as to not get caught in the act.

    Because some parents would just barge in unannounced, I reasoned that, fuck, they knew what we were doing and were trying to catch us in the act or, like the one time I mentioned, catch us in a compromising position; I mean, you have two boys lying very, very close to each other and it's a safe bet that they aren't sharing body heat because it's cold. They wouldn't accuse of us anything but the message was clear:

    Don't let me catch y'all having sex with each other! It was also them letting us know that no matter how sneaky we thought we were being, we weren't fooling them at all and I also reasoned that they used to be our age and, you know, being adults now, it was easy to figure it out because they knew what some boys liked to do with each other.

    And a lesson I learned when I became a father to two boys. Yeah, you damned well know that boys will be boys and you know all of the tricks and signs like you know the back of your hand... and unless you caught them in the act, ya might "warn" them that you know what's up but since you didn't catch them, you really can't bust their asses for doing something you know they're doing but didn't catch them doing it.


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  7. On Getting Caught - Part II

    [FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]On one occasion, my friend and I were spooning, his dick all up in my butt and feeling heavenly, when his father stormed into the room and there we were, lying way too close to each other to be sleeping and I was waiting for all holy hell to break loose. Instead, he started asking his son about something he didn't do and I know he scared the shit out of me when he said, "I should make your ass get the fuck up right now!"

    I could feel him against me, shaking with fear and he was so scared that I could feel him busting a nut in me and, oh, shit, if my friend got out of bed, his dad would see he was naked and put two and two together! But he didn't make him get up... and was giving us a look I didn't understand then but I know it now and, yeah, I think he knew and not because we had been lying so close to each other. After his father left, we took turns going to the bathroom - while making it seem normal - and when I came back from my bathroom trip, whew - the room was super funky and smelled like sex.

    Which made me think about all the other times me and some guy "almost" got caught and realizing that even if we were looking "innocent" and up to nothing, there was no mistaking that hot, musky scent and it gave me a lesson in being nose-blind - that's when your brain edits out smells after a while. You're in the middle of all that funk and you don't smell any of it but anyone walking into the room will smell it instantly or, as I had, you leave the room, come back, and there's the undeniable evidence that some sex was going on because what you were smelling wasn't "normal" body odor.
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  8. On Getting Caught - Part I

    [FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]One of my favorite topics to check out is the one about getting caught and it always reminds me of the one time I got caught... but it also makes me go back and think about all the times when some guy and I should have been busted in the act - but it didn't happen.

    There are, surprisingly, a lot of those moments that I can remember, like all those times I'd be spending the night with a guy, one thing led to another, and we're either taking turns sucking each other's dick or fucking each other, doing our best to keep quiet while, elswhere in the house or apartment, adults are up and doing... adult stuff and we're thinking that we're being super stealthy in our "nasty" behavior.

    And maybe we really weren't because, invariably, an adult would show up, sometimes knocking on the door before stepping and sometimes just barging in... but we'd hear them coming and try to act normal and when I think back about those days, I'm pretty sure we failed miserably in this.

    But weren't taken to task for it. Like that one time a guy's mom walked into the room just as we got untangled from being in a 69 - we heard her coming - but at the moment she walked in, we weren't as settled in as two kids ready to go to sleep should have been. I remember the look in her eyes as we tried to fake things and remembering that look, I think she knew we were doing something if not specifically what we were doing.

    She asked us why we weren't asleep, we tried to say we were on our way, and the look she gave us said she didn't believe a word of it. She said something like, "Keep the noise down and take your asses to sleep!" and left us breathing a sigh of relief... but I think she knew we were doing something to each other and just didn't say anything about it.

    Sometimes we could cover up our "fierce sexual activity" with the explanation that we were wrestling which, sometimes, that's how things got started as we tussled with each other and making our dicks very hard and in need of softening. And it seems that I somehow knew that the parent giving us the third degree about stuff knew that, sure, we were wrestling... just not in the Greco-Roman style.
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