My Experience Pursuing a Confused “Straight” Guy in the Bible Belt (Pt. 2)
I didn’t see it coming, but you folks showed more than enough interest in the first part of the story for me to sit back, dick in hand, and take y’all on another stroll down memory lane…to one of my very favorite stops. It’s one of the best in my mental spank bank, so hold onto your cocks, fellas.
Not many weekends went by without Josh pulling his normal “late night” routine. As a matter of fact, after this torture had been going on for a few months, Josh happened to be having roommate problems and decided to move. Who would have guessed it would be two doors down from my apartment. Not two apartments down; no, same apartment. Two doors down. Which is literally as close as he could possibly get. So at this point, we shared a porch and had only two walls between us. Despite this fact, Josh never wanted to walk the extra ten feet to his door after the bars. So, on went the nights of him passing out on my couch, one of our heads on the other’s shoulder or an arm wrapped tightly around the other’s body; always toeing the line between bros and lovers, but never crossing it. I didn’t push. Behind his beautiful blue eyes, I saw more that confusion. Honestly, it was a self-loathing that only occurs when one’s soul is being ripped in two; on one side was a fiery passion that he couldn’t suppress and on the other was a lifetime of moral absolutes that he couldn’t ignore. It broke my heart. And my heart, incredibly, won out over my throbbing cock and practically bursting balls in this case. I was stuck somewhere between love and lust, in constant conflict between a desire to nurture his heart and a need to worship his cock. Luckily, I would soon be presented an opportunity that would allow me to satiate my needs while preserving my good intention of not basically raping him.
It was March in Mississippi, and that meant only one thing in a college town: Spring parties. My fraternity’s party was coming up and every active was allowed one male guest. Bitches, of course, were all welcome with no invitation. Also needless to say, my invitation went to Josh. Friday night rolled around, and the fraternity house was packed with hoards of co-eds hustling to take advantage of our enormous supply of free (bottom shelf) liquor and the one-hit-wonder (bottom shelf) rapper playing hype-man in the back yard. I was doing my usual drunk thing, making rounds around the house to visit everybody and miss nothing, when someone pulled me aside. “Dude, you should probably go find your boy. He’s being weird and creeping out girls.” Fuck. Eventually, I located Josh. He was a mess. Absolutely shit-hammered and very emotional to see me. I deduced that he’d gotten upset I wasn’t spending my night with him. He was basically drunk-crying. Fuck. At this point I’d like to interject and remind you: Josh wasn’t a little bitch. He was a tough country boy that handled almost everything like a man. Except this. So, I made an executive decision to miss the rest of our night-one party and get this shit-show home without him getting jumped or arrested.
We left the party and started the half-mile walk back to my/his (but obviously my) apartment. I held him up as we staggered across campus, Josh maximizing our risk or Public Intox by periodically screaming “GOOOO *HIS FRATERNITY’S NAME*!!!” Goddamnit. That was not chill for freshman to do and even less chill for a senior (I was a Junior) to do. I was starting to get pissed until…Josh grabbed my hand. He laced his fingers around mine and held my hand to his chest. He screamed his fraternity’s name again to demonstrate that he was indeed schwasted. Then, he pushed my hand down onto his belt buckle and managed to say, “It’s okay.” GOOOAAAALLLLL. I “accidentally” pushed his belt buckle off and then offered to fix it, grazing his cock for the first time as I buckled it back for him. We were still on campus but I didn’t even give a fuck, I wanted him even more than I wanted anyone’s acceptance. I held tightly onto his hand for the rest of the walk home, partly to support him but mostly because I was completely consumed by physical desire.
When we finally got to my house and walked inside, I wasted no time. As soon as I shut the door, I braced him against it and pressed my lips against his for the first time. It was fucking nirvana. It quickly escalated to making out, in such an aggressive way that it would usually have been a comical turn-off if it weren’t the result of 100% raw passion. I grabbed his hand and led him toward the couch, where I pushed him down and straddled myself on his lap, grinding my ass against the hard bulge beneath it like my life depended on it as our tongues intertwined. I pulled off his shirt and let out a sigh of pure lust as I rubbed my hands all over his ripped chest and abs, slowly making my way down to his belt buckle. As I unlatched it, I reached down his pants and grabbed that sweet cock that I had dreamed about for so long. It was perfect. A little smaller than me, but that didn’t even occur until later. All I cared about was that it was his, and that is was his heartbeat I felt through the engorged cock in my hand. There was also something so satisfying about knowing that mine was the only male hand that had touched his dick in a long time, if not ever. It was like an electric force between us. Were I the original narrator of this story, things were about to get real fucking steamy. I usually top, but I was more than eager to take his cock inside me and ride him like a power-bottom on speed until we both climaxed together.
That would have been dope. Unfortunately, reality is the narrator of this story. In reality, Josh was so fucked up that he actually passed out while I was still in his lap groping him, just as I was ripping his pants off. His head rolled to the side and he started to snore while I watched his beautiful cock deflate, along with my dreams. At this point, I had shed my shirt but still had pants on, and my Wranglers were soaked with precum around the crotch as my dick attempted to bust through denim. It was a point of no return. A man’s libido can’t go from 100-0 and stop on a dime. It’s just physiology. Plus, hadn’t Josh initiated this whole thing anyway? I took my pants off and began to stroke my throbbing cock. He’d said, “It’s ok,” right? I stepped up onto the couch and rubbed my cock across the face I’d jerked off to so many times, leaving a snail trail of precum all the way to his half-open mouth. I rubbed my mushroomed head into and all over his lips; somehow, it felt even better than a blowjob and almost made me cum immediately. So, I kept going. It didn’t take long at all. I grabbed onto the hammock that hung over my couch for support, let my head fall back, and let myself bust possibly the biggest load of my life all over Josh’s face. It was one of those orgasms that make you lose all connection to time and space for a few seconds that seem like a glorious, but fleeting, eternity. I “came to” supporting myself by one arm that was wrapped around the hammock and had that glowing feeling, like I’d just simultaneously taken the most glorious shit and piss of my life all whilst painlessly delivering a baby. It was euphoric. Josh continued to snore as I searched for a towel and began to wipe the massive load of jizz off his face. In my drunken wisdom, I had the brilliant idea to leave a thick layer of cum in and around his mouth. Still naked, I spooned and cuddled him from behind all night. By the time I woke up, Josh had gone back to his apartment…but I knew he hadn’t done so without waking up with my hard cock in his back and a mouth covered in my cum. After, we continued to be friends but he never said a word about it, and I eventually realized that I had to move on and start deflecting. In the end, it was an experience that I would not recommend to most… but would not take back for the world. Pursuing a confused “straight” guy in the Bible Belt is always a gamble, and likely a roller coaster with the hottest of highs and most lunatic of lows. However, when it works, it really works. Proceed at your own risk!
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