The Challenge of Gifting Straight Men

[Hotload84]

I love to go to the beach. Not for the sun, sand, nor surf. Those are added benefits. I go for the attention. I know that sounds immature, but it’s true.

I don't have the greatest body. I'm not overweight. I’m fairly trim, but don't exercise. My face is not distinctive. By society's standards, I’m average. But give me a pair of speedos, and I put on quite a show.

Though I’m blessed with an abundant cock size, what turns on most guys is the way it hugs my balls. I look absolutely awesome.

Women—and most guys—do a double-take at me in speedos. Young or old—doesn’t matter. I get plenty of attention. Gays hit on me, but I’m into STRAIGHT men. They have always been my preference.

MARRIED MEN, ESPECIALLY, TURN ME ON. And with their almost universal disenchantment with their spouses, conversion is child’s play. Whatever the case, I use my special talent to turn their disaffection to perversion.

After I got POZZED the game became more sinister—with stakes of LIFE and DEATH. I go for the true family types, the kind with kids; and, never do a FAGGOT unless he’s with a FEMALE.

I place my towel as close to Him and the Cunt as possible and give him a variety of views. When I finally get his attention, I smile and motion for him to follow. It’s like leading a sheep to slaughter.

On this particular afternoon I spotted a dude in his late thirties who walked along the beach with BITCH in hand. I followed them at a safe distance till they spread their blanket, and set up shop as close as advisable. It took almost half an hour before he overcame his reticence and stared directly at my cock. I was wearing bright red speedos which highlighted the crimson circle where my precum had soaked through.

I watched his manshaft grow. He turned over on his stomach to hide it. Though he was wearing sunglasses, he was OBSERVING. I smiled and motioned toward the woods.

I stood up and lingered, casually adjusting my speedos, as he gazed up at my crotch. The fictitious realignment finished, I took off down the trail, casting longing glances back his way. Along side were trees and heavy brush. The setup was perfect. Sure, there was an element of danger, but if the nature lovers stayed on the trail, we wouldn't be observed.

I began to think I’d misjudged him, and started back to hunt another dude—when I almost ran him down.

"Follow me," I urged, not waiting for his answer. Experience told me that since he’d come this far, he’d meekly follow. I moved off the trail amongst the trees and brush.

"I’M NOT GAY."

"THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

"I saw you looking at me and, uh, I’M NOT GAY."

"OF COURSE YOU’RE NOT. I saw your wife."

I took his hand and placed it on my crotch. This was the crucial step. You can never tell about a STRAIGHT guy when his MASCULINITY is CHALLENGED. Some guys panic or grow belligerent. In his case he did neither—his paw lay dead and lifeless on my shaft. I bucked my hips against him so my dick made solid contact with his palm.

"You're so hard!"

“I wanna see yours."

"My wife is just out there," he said, waving toward the beach.

"This doesn’t involve her. She wouldn’t understand. Look, I know you’re Straight. I don’t want you to do anything uncomfortable. Let’s take ‘em off together, and see what happens.”

He nodded. Some Straights you gotta spoon-feed.

We pulled them down together. There we were—two naked Fags (as the world would see us) checking out each others’ cocks, just yards away the crowded beach and the married Faggot’s spouse. He was fully erect—maybe five and a half inches, curved slightly to the right. He seemed astonished that I appeared so huge, yet wasn’t fully hard—I’m eight inches.

"Go ahead and touch it. I don’t bite.”

We could hear the beachgoers’ chatter, but were well concealed. He gripped my shaft. Involuntarily I spasmed. A gasp escaped him.

“Don’t worry. I’m not cumming—yet.”

He began to stroke me. He grasped my balls and squeezed them.

“Easy!”

"They’re so huge and hairy. Maybe full of cum.”

"You got good hands. You’re a natural.”

He caressed me more assertively.

I pushed him to his knees. My cock was inches from his lips.

"I can't do this," he said, jumping to his feet. But I wasn’t finished with him yet.

"Don’t go," I urged him.

“She’s waiting.”

“What time you tell her you’d be back?”

"No time.”

“Well, then…. I pushed him back down. He crossed the THRESHOLD as he took me in his mouth and milked me. (THAT’S POZ PRECUM YOU’RE SUCKIN’, FELLA! Score one for me and zero for wifey!)

He was so awkward, you could tell he’d never sucked before. But he had potential! He gagged a lot, and I overlooked it. It was all part of the learning curve. I leaned into him and was surprised at how much of me went down his throat.

"I WANT TO SEE YOU CUM!"

He started jerking me. The friction was stupendous; the build-up in my testicles, immense. The first gob splattered in his eyebrows. The next drooled down his chin. The third scored a direct hit on his lips. A thick rope of cum extended from my shaft to him.

Long after I’d run dry, he continued to beat me, like he couldn’t get enough. I was certain his thoughts were no longer on his pretty wife nor of the vows of monogamy he’d rejected.

At last he removed his cummy hand and stood. He had a strange expression on his face—a mix of pleasure and confusion. His dick was hard and I craved to have him in me.

"Do you have to go?"

He nodded.

"You can't go out there with that hardon. She’ll know."

"I’ll take the long way back."

"Fuck me first. Cum in me."

Though he shook his head “no,” his eyes lit up with interest.

"I need it. I want your jism up my ass. Only the two of us will ever know."

I guided his pole to my anus. That was all the encouragement he needed. He grabbed my hips and clumsily plowed into me. With no lube, his entry was excruciating. His thrusts grew urgent. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t purposefully being hurtful. The fuckin’ novice didn’t know no better.

"You’re so tight compared to her.”

So now I was in her league. Score two for me and none for wifey. A few more fucks like this and some guy’d replace her.

With a grunt that I was afraid even his wife might hear, he shot his wad. His cream surged up my POZ mancunt, and ran down my ass crack.

We didn't exchange another word as we tugged our shorts back up. I stayed behind a moment to watch him hustle down the trail. “I’M NOT GAY”—what a crock that was! ALL STRAIGHTS ARE CLOSET FAGS.

[Jerry069]

I am one of those married closet faggots. And i wish something similar would happen my way. I would be able to refuse. No chance. I would beg for it.

[jayhilval]

Oh god yes! I'm a married chaser too. My wife knows all about it though. I'm carrying on with one of her "friends" who she secretly hates, and my wife really wants this other woman pozzed, so she can pass it to her hubby. The other girl has three kids, and loves preg risk sex. Little does she know!

[cumaddict71]

would have even been hotter if you'd fucked him!

[mort]

great story a real shame no other parts to go with it.

[Guest iJoey]

be nice if you bred him 

[CigarBear68]

Always a treat to hookup with a married fella, especially when they let you breed their ass raw and dump a load in their ass. 

[bend4it]

Mmmm many times on nudist beaches I have seen this happen, brings back happy memories.