So. Are You?
14 Sep 2021 1266 readers Score 8.4 (26 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt
“You’ve probably have heard them. Those damn questions.” I tell my friend as we sit at the crowded bar. On our respective barstools. “You grit your teeth. Clutch tightly your fist. And just sit there as people ask their asinine questions and make their assumptions about things. Things they know nothing about except for the misconceptions they have read or been maliciously fed from those who have a hateful bias against us. From people insisting we are an abomination. You can thank the church for that. I might add. But they are not the only ones.”
My friend nods his head in agreement. He knows what I mean. Many would.
“So. Are you? The man or the woman when you fuck.” I ask my friend. “Have you been asked that inane question from straight people about the position you hold when you fuck another man.”
“I have. I get it from complete strangers. From men. From women. Both. You can see the twinkle in their eyes when they ask their probing questions.” My friend says. “They really want to know. Or say they do.”
“They want to know.” I tell him. “But why. How would they act were we to ask them what they do. They would go ballistic. Absolutely. And totally. And then accuse us of asking them to private of a question. Especially if it is a woman being asked about what her and her husband do in their bedroom. But that does not stop them. No sirrree! That want to know more. To know it all. What we as gay men do in private in our bedrooms.”
“I like to ram my cock deep into a man’s hole.” My friend says. “And to shove it in there hard. And fast. Ram. Ram. Ram. Making my cock go to its deepest point inside him.”
My friend’s voice goes down an octave, deeper in his baritone; deep-guttural animal-like, as he lifts himself off his barstool and demonstrates the power of his thrust while he hovers over his stool. I feel my cock grow hard in my jeans. As he demonstrates his prowess. My hand goes to it and adjusts it in my pants as it elongates lengthwise down the side of my right leg.
“And that feels so damn good.” I tell my friend. “So, damn fucking good.”
My friend’s hand goes to his jeans and adjusts his cock. Our talk has gotten him hard too.
“Why are they so bothered by what we do?” My friend says. “Look at you, Tom. A head choke full of wavy brown hair. A chest full too. I can see it peeking out from under the collar of your tee shirt. You look like a straight man. You could pass for one.”
“But I ain’t.” I say.
“I know you ain’t.” My friend says as he gives me a wink. “I haven’t forgotten. We once dated. Remember? All those years ago.”
“I know. I know. And I look at you, Bill.” I say. “You are slowly losing all your hair. You are almost bald, and with that salt and pepper sprinkled goatee. You look totally different from when we dated all those years ago.”
“I am older now. I know I have all but lost my good looks. Don’t remind me of what I once was.” Bill says. “Unlike you. You have gotten more handsome. Me. Not so much.”
“They say bald men are more virile.” Tom says. “Are you?”
My friend, Tom winks at me.
“Don’t they understand that we are men who like to sleep with other men. I mean, fuck them. Or be fucked by them. I am not a woman. I don’t have a pussy. And I don’t want one. Thank gawd. I have a cock. A nasty seeping serpent of a cock. And I have a deep man-hole, that I like to have filled with the dripping sweet cream from a sturdy man. I am no woman. And cannot be. So, I am not a woman when I am being fucked up the ass. Or in my mouth. Or when I am being forcefully face-fucked. I am man. All man.” I say.
“Amen! Hallelujah! Preach it, Brother Tom. You are preaching to the choir.” My friend, Bill says. His hand disappears underneath the edge of the bar. “Are you hard, Tom?”
“Uh-huh.” I say. “I am fucking about to burst through the seams of my pants.”
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Bill screams out. “Fuck! Fuck!”
“Simmer yourself, Bill!” The bartender yells down from the other end of the bar.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” Bill replies and then screams out as loud as he can muster over the noise inside the crowded bar. “EVERYONE HAPPY IN HERE TO HAVE THEMSELVES A COCK!”
A loud yeehaw of agreement comes from the crowd of men inside the bar. The sentiment echoing from one end of the room to the other.
This gets another scowled look from the bartender. But then he gives a wide toothy grin in agreement too at the shouted statement.
“See! See! Everyone agrees with me.” Bill says. “Now I need myself a fuck. I want to fuck.”
“And you want to do so as a man. Right? Not a woman.” Tom says.
“I have a cock. I identify as a top. Not a bottom…” Bill says.
“…like me. I am a bottom. And you know it.” Tom says. “I am not in that role as a woman. I am a man who wants my hole plugged. End of story.”
Bill looks to the restroom door. Tom follows his eyes and sees the door too.
They both rise from their stools and take off like they have been freed from solitary confinement in a jail cell to the restroom. Once inside, pants are yanked down. Forcefully. By both. And the fuck soon commences.
Like his goatee, the fur wrapped around his cock is salt and peppered hued. But age does have it signs in the darkest of places on a man.
“I don’t have the 10-incher you say you want, that you have always wanted but I do have seven I will gladly give you.” Bill says, happily.
“Quit your yappin’ and shove that cock into me.”
And Bill does. Shoving his throbbing rod into his former beau’s hole.
“Uh! Uh! Uh!” Tom moans as Bill rockets with explosive force, his cock inside Tom’s deep dark hole. The only lubrication is the desire in either man’s heart.
The men already in the bathroom do not leave. They only turn and watch the pair. They cheer them on. As they stroke their cocks in time with Bill ramming his cock in Tom’s hole.
Bill rams. And rams. Sweat breaks out on his forehead. The light in the corner putting the spotlight on the hard fuck into Tom’s hole continues.
This story was conceived out of the memories of the many people who have asked me over the years about my sex life as a gay man. They identified as straight, obviously. For instance, some of the questions were from family members, “Are you the woman in the relationship?” and “What do I do in the relationship in the bedroom?” I pause. And then I ask them did they really want to know. Do they want a true answer from me? Of course, they don’t. Honestly. They were just being nosy. Some I told, “I do not discuss my sex life with anyone.” Others, I tactfully explained. Like the Facebook “friend” who I met in an online chat group, who knew I was gay to explain to her what goes on in the bedroom between two gay men. I told her I was not a woman, nor was the man I am with in any way, a woman. It is two men. Or more engaging in consensual man-to-man sex. Of course, this is how I handled it. My experience. And I am no way speaking for other gay men. Or bisexual men. Or for men in the population in general. That is not my right. I am only speaking for myself and my experiences and no one else’s. I just thought it would be playful to take that discussion to a gay bar between two friends (who once happened to be lovers) as they talk, and things get heated between them. And then the two scurries off to the bathroom in said bar for old times’ sake reminiscent fuck. Hope you enjoy the story.