Tag: bicurious

Basically Straight

January 4, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Mark’s got two of his gym bros coming over and he’s dressed accordingly. They’re basically straight, and so far he’s only managed to give them blowies. He hopes tonight’s the night they finally cunt his hole.

So he’ll wear a mini-skirt. Just to, you know, make his bros think along the right lines. It’s a tactic he’s used before to great effect. The tease of that tiny bit of fabric “covering” his amazing, fuckable glutes is too much for most men.

He’s just deliberating whether he should feminize his voice. Some “straight” men definitely do prefer that. But he decides against it. He’s a man, he’s gonna act like it. The skirt is for titillation; but the bros will be under no illusion that they’re fucking a woman.

Gay dudes can just think of the skirt like a tiny kilt. I mean, it is plaid.

See what Mark’s about here, and read about his adventures here.

Buy his stories here

The Jock

January 4, 2024 / / 0 Comments

^^’The Jock’ in question

The following is an excerpt from my story Gym Bros #1: The Jock. Buy the full thing on Amazon ($2.99):-

As the sesh was coming to an end, Mark knew he had to seal the deal. Otherwise, he’d have to wait until he and Hud were together again, and by then, the moment might have passed. Hudson might come to his senses and keep his distance. Mark caught Hud heading towards the water fountain. Now or never.

He ‘accidentally’ knocked into the bro’s shoulder. Hudson got set to apologize but when he saw it was Mark, he faltered.

“Oh, hey. You know, I just wanted to say sorry for-”

Mark pulled the dumb lunk round the corner and pushed him gently against the wall. He put his lips firmly against Hud’s and grazed the inside of his mouth with his tongue.

Hudson placed his arms on Mark’s shoulders as if to push him off, but the pressure he exerted was token; a necessary show of resistance from a man who identified as straight. Mark pushed his tongue in deeper and locked with Hudson’s own. At once, Mark got a rush of adrenaline and his dick spiked. Nothing got him going like a tongue war.

And Hudson was right there with him.

Mark giggled into Hudson’s mouth. These gym bros did make him laugh. They tried so hard to not be gay, but when crunch time came, heterosexuality fucked right off. Usually.

He slid his hand down Hud’s front and gently cupped his dick. “You feeling alright, bro?”

“Fuck. I’m just, you know…?”

“What?”

“You know…something, fuck, I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it, bro.” Mark rubbed his hard crotch against Hud’s. “I’ve got the same problem.”

The jock gasped and actually exerted pressure as he pushed against Mark’s torso. Their dicks separated.

“I’m not like… you.” He winced at the problematic implication.

“No,” said Mark. “Of course you’re not. But listen, I’m gonna head to the restroom for a sec. If you wanna be not like me in there, you’re more than welcome.”

Mark squeezed Hud’s boner, then sauntered off to the locker room. Hud watched him go. Mark made sure to really waddle his glutes with each step. He always wanted to give a bro a show.

The locker room was as crowded as earlier, though the bros had changed. Mark recognised most, but some were new. He made a quick mental note. He’d get started wooing those studs as soon as he could. Hopefully most were either proud gay sluts like him, or closeted basketcases like Hudson. Either way meant more dick.

As he entered the toilets, Hud entered the locker room. Mark smirked.

Signed, sealed, delivered.

See what Mark’s about here, and read about his adventures here.

Buy his stories here

Trace and Cole

January 4, 2024 / / 0 Comments

*Read about Trace and Cole in “The Bruhs” here on Amazon

Trace and Cole were a couple of “straight” douchebruhs who treated the gym like their own personal weight room. They’d grunt and yell at the top of their voices as they ego-lifted weights way beyond their ken; they’d never clean up their sweat; or put away their dumbbells; or show any degree of conscientiousness at all. And they always seemed to have a lot of stuff; bags and clothes and bottles and accessories that most of the other dudes didn’t.

Trace was the older and “wiser” of the two. He’d clearly been roiding for years; his huge arms spoke for themselves. Cole was his lil bro, learning at master’s teat. It was cute watching Trace guide Cole through a movement, or help him overcome any sense of shame about showing off in the middle of the gym. Cole was probably in his early twenties, clean-shaven and manly-cute. Give him a couple of years on Trace’s stack, and boy would blow up, Mark was sure. Both were completely waxed, tanned and shiny.

Mark was obsessed with them. A couple of handsome, roided bro-bros who were loud, dumb and arrogant. A favorite of Mark’s. They gave off toxic, masc4masc Railr bruh vibes. The type Mark was always happy to get down with. They’d been on his hit-list for weeks now. He was just looking for an opening.

They would know he was gay. Most people in Sparta did. Trace and Cole were the living embodiment of “No homo, bro”. Getting them to a place where they could be comfortable around him was gonna be a job of work, but one day they’d crack. Mark was curious to really test how “straight” they were. In his experience, most men weren’t so. Mark’s gaydar was beeping – slowly, quietly, from a far distance, but definitely on. Trace and Cole would be in his bed, one way or another. Or his sofa. Or floor. Of the gym jacuzzi. Or a toilet. Getting fucked on the Sparta gym toilets was something of a specialty of Mark’s.

See what Mark’s about here, and read about his adventures here.

Buy his stories here

My Boi Mark

January 4, 2024 / / 0 Comments

My boi Mark.

Mark’s a slut, a whore, a home-wrecker, a cocksucker, a fag, a good boi. He’s out, he’s proud, he’s confident as sin, and he always gets what he wants. It’s just a matter of finding the right angle.

And what he wants is masculine men. He’s a masc-chaser. He surrounds himself with masculine aesthetics and manly energy. That’s what gets him off, what sets him off, what pounds his heart and addles his brain. To Mark, there’s nothing sexier than an unabashedly masculine man reveling in his own virility. Marc does the same. He doesn’t just want masc, he is masc. Only elevated. He dresses well, smells good, looks damn fucking good. He wears color and sparkly shit, or else not very much at all. It’s to show off his man’s body – all muscle, chest hair and swinging cock. He’d say fem guys need not apply, but he’s not quite so exclusionary as that. He just has a very powerful preference.

And Mark’s a pro. You’ll find him on FortheFans, posting his latest nudes or jerk-videos or dildo fun. He’s yet to do anything with other guys, though. Crossing the line into outright pornstar is a big leap, and he’s doing just fine with his teasing, tantalizing shows. Fine enough to afford a swank pad in Brooklyn. My boi Mark has expensive tastes.

And what does he do with his glut of free time? He spends it at Warriors of Sparta; an elite gym filled with hot, muscular, masculine men who are always looking to get off. And Mark gets them off. He tops them, he bottoms for them; he sucks them, he fucks them; he worships their bodies, or lets them worship his. He’s got that gym wrapped around his finger, along with dozens of bros who he’s wrangled into his sexual maelstrom.

And it’s all Mark’s little secret.

So don’t tell their wives. Or boyfriends. Or bros.

Or do. Could be fun.

See what Mark’s about here, and read about his adventures here.

Buy his stories here

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