A key part of my role as a good boi is to slowly open up the Overton window of sexual possibility for married men, closeted men, men who have never really considered the alternative options. I’m friendly, I’m accommodating, I’m service-oriented but I’m no faggot. I’m not thrusting him into some pressurized situation where he has to be the dom (though if he wants that, that’s also fine). And I take things slow. I take things at his pace, I should say. A drip, drip, drip of greater male-intimacy over days, weeks, even months. All to break the dam in his mind that’s so far prevented him from experiencing the full spectrum of his sexual desire.
You were a bit upset after this wonderful top fucked you then split. Yeah, the sex was outstanding, your hole’s still buzzing, but you’d hoped to get to know him a bit better now that you’d both cooled down. But why? You think he’s got time for cuddles and chitchat after he’s bust. He’s a top, tops are men, men’ve got shit to do. Like get to the gym to become harder, stronger, cooler. Bottoms are meek and stupid so will struggle to understand, but a top never “cools down”. He’s already on Railr looking for another pussy for his heat.
“You think I’m gay? What, with this bling, body hair and smoldering look? Gay? Me? Nah, bruuh. Nah. I mean, if you’re up for something, I don’t…you know…”
Being a carpenter was great. You got to work with your hands, feel satisfied in your labor, and meet all sorts of people. Namely, wives, husbands and single-folk home during the middle of the day. They all wanted to buy what you were selling. Maybe it’s cause you dressed so provocatively. A manly slut. And commando was a must. Maybe it’s cause you were so forward in your virile desire. Maybe it was just your raw masculine magnetism. Either way, you couldn’t remember the last time you had a job with a sexy client where you didn’t end up pounding their hole on your coffee break. It’s just your top privilege.
Joel’s wife kicked him out. It’d been a long time coming. You gave him your sofa for as long as he needed, and as the days turned to weeks, and you and Joel spent your evenings together, your relationship started to shift. You were basically gay, and basically open about that. You’d told Joel how you felt about men one drunken night years ago, and he’d been a bit shocked… but not overly. He’d never shown any interest in you, though. Or men in general.
But a couple of weeks into your new living arrangements, as Joel lay back in his grey sweatpants (no underwear, you noticed) with his hairy torso on show, he asked you very bluntly if you found him attractive. Your heart-raced. Yes, the answer was obviously yes. You’d thought about him many times over the years, but ever since he’d been living with you – surrounded by his scent, voice and aura – he was all you thought about. You played it cool. You told him he was a very attractive man and you’d be stupid not to think he was hot. He smirked. He leaned over and kissed you softly on the lips. You hardened on the spot. What the fuck was happening?
As he continued to kiss you, his hands travelled down to your own sweatpants and grabbed for the rock hard cock within. You pushed him off.
“Joel, what the fuck?!”
“I don’t know,” he said as he wiped his mouth. “I don’t know what this is. But I wanna find out. You can’t fucking tell me you’re not interested.”
Your head told you no. That this was a bad idea. That chasing “confused”, lonely, closeted men who were technically married was a dangerous path. But your head was never gonna decide this. Your dick and heart said yes. They won. They always won. You threw yourself at him and made love to his lips. You were happy to find he was just as hard as you.
What inevitably happens when your wives go out for a girls’ day. You’re always happy to celebrate their friendship. The more time they spend with each other, the better, frankly.
After highschool, your dad sent you away to a special camp that promised to make a man out of you. He thought you were too much of a beta. A nerd. And too emasculated for his liking. You were into all that Mario and Marvel crap. Men in tights. Shit wasn’t right. The camp promised to turn cubs into bears, and prey into predators. Your dad liked the sound of that.
And it was truth in advertising. It was a six month intensive course, and you returned home with 20lbs of added muscle, a full chest of hair, a confident personality, and lots and lots of new friends. He didn’t need to know that you had sex with 20-odd buff hairy dudes and learned to take and give dick in equal measure like a champ.
Though, telling him that might be the manliest thing of all.
That’s it. Bask in the glory of the man who brought you out of betadom and is making you into a fellow alpha. He’s built up your manhood piece by piece, showing you an alternative out of sissification and out of beta invisibility. All he asks in return is your loyalty, devotion and respect. You give all three, because you feel all three. He’s your alpha, you’re becoming like him. One day, you’ll be his double. Equals. Then, a beta will bask in your glory, and the beautiful cycle of masculinization continues.
Literally 30 seconds after arriving at the cabin, you and your best bud were naked and devouring each other’s faces like it wasn’t just last weekend you were here.
Looking like this, he wasn’t getting anywhere with women. Too fat. Too hairy. Too slobbish. Too gross. So he decided to try something he’d been wanting to try for years. He went on Railr. Within days, he had an endless parade of men looking to ride his fat, hairy, slobbish, gross body. Within weeks he began doing some reciprocal cocksucking. Within months he’d sworn off women completely as he realized the full glory of men. It’s just surprising it took him this long, considering how glorious he is.
You were married for fuck’s sake. But ever since you hired that gardener, you’ve felt this moment inching closer. The little looks, the flirty touches, his unnaturally high interest in your life, your work, your day. And he kept coming to work dressed in less and less. Today, it was just these tight little short shorts that gave you a semi as soon as you saw him. After your wife left for work, he made his move. Before you knew it, you were making out on your marital bed, your hands sliding closer to his hole. You’d never been with a man before. You’d repressed for so many years. But this was it. You pushed down your guilt and let your lust overwhelm you.
Whenever you and bro get together, things get really physical. It’s all No Homo, obviously, but he’s just so fucking sexy that you can’t help yourself. His ass has more meat on it than any woman’s you’ve been with, and something about that just turns you on. Your boner strains your pants, leaking away like crazy. That makes you a little sus. Like, that seems kinda homo. But so long as at least one of you keeps your cock out of sight, anything you do is totally fine. That’s the rule, right? The goalposts keep changing when it comes to No Homo, but that sounds right. Man, you love spending time with your bro.
When the French couple who moved in next door takes you under their wing and tries to bring you out of the closet. You swear you’re not in the closet, they keep proving otherwise. They say their gaydar’s never wrong. You’d counter their point, but you keep being the filling in their beefcake sandwich. Hard to say “No, no, I’m straight” when a man’s kissing his own cum from your lips.
