You’d been making eyes at this big brute all night. You were out to your friends and family, so he knew your deal… and he kept returning your glances. Which could only mean one thing. You made a subtle nod to the bathroom. Three minutes later, he came in, stripping down and chubbing up. He started saying this, that and the next thing, but you put a finger to his mouth and proceeded to give him his first gay blowie. It wouldn’t be the last.
It’ll be our little secret
This is the signal from your neighbor that you can come over to fuck around. He sits out on his deck in only his underwear with a cigarette in his mouth. He’s a bad-mannered, angry man in a shitty marriage, and anytime he doesn’t spend at work, he spends at the gym. That’s where you connected with him. You’d been neighbors for a few years now but had otherwise kept your distance. You assumed he wasn’t into guys. You assumed wrong.
One day, he cornered you in the locker room. He knew you were into men. You weren’t exactly shy about having guys over at the weekend, and the pride flag waving outside your property was a bit of a give away. It started with oral, but before long he was fucking you in the ass. He was a total top, of course. Well, for now. You’d see about changing that someday, cause he had one thicc muscle ass that you were keen to explore. Either way, he’d found an outlet for his closeted rage and you’d found a hot motherfucker to spend your Sundays with. Win win.
It’ll be our little secret
A stalwart of Homolania, surveying his country and becoming infused with its erotic energy. The very nation itself – its land and structures – are sources of sexual pleasure in the minds of the homocitizenry.
It’s decades since the revolution, and the dust is long settled on the new normal. All men are gay, all straggotry is gone, all women are kept out of sight – most having abandoned the nation for less misogynistic harbors. The rest of the world is in a state of collapse. Chaos reigns. Dystopia follows in its wake. But Homolania – perched on the sun drenched shores of the Mediterranean and nestled throughout the valleys of southern Europe – is like a blip of paradise in a hellish world.
That paradise is maintained by a state-apparatus of total surveillance and total control. All boys are raised in the same furnace, and given the same playbook to live their lives. This stalwart is no different. He was bred in the Ministry of Progeny using the seed of a ‘brute’ – one of the categories of stud-line used to make more sons for the State – and orphaned off to a righteous Homofascist household in the hinterlands – far from the coast and the capital. He was raised on meat, potatoes and milk; he wrestled and played football like they were oxygen; he fucked his first boy when he was 13 on a three-day camping hike with his best friend. He got work at the garage owned by his dads and took it over when they stepped back. He found his own husband – a fellow brute from the village over who worked as a State forester – and they built a homestead on his dads’ land. Now, they’re in line to adopt their first son, and so it comes full-circle. In all that time, he never once saw a woman in the flesh.
And now he observes the land from where he and his husband have camped for the weekend. He’s slow-witted and simple – as his breeding stock tend to be – and his mind is completely enslaved to the propaganda of the Party. He’s heard it on a loop since the day he was born. He knows nothing else. As he observes the contours of Homolania, his dick hardens. He was blessed to be bred into the most glorious nation on Earth. The realm is alive with a pulsing androphilia that all men feel, all men share. He returns to his tent with his husband and their lovers du jour to indulge his birthright as a stalwart of Homolania.
Learn more about Homolania here.
© 2025 Jocksid
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑
