Tag: toxic

Trace and Cole

*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

Off-limits

Mark’s first meeting with Bruno at Sparta was an unforgettable experience. He got one of the best fuckings he could remember. He was left hunched over in the sauna, splayed and cummy and sweating; head mince from being in bottom-space. He’d assumed Bruno’s dick was off-limits – a strange thing for my boi to assume. But so spectacular was Bruno that Mark truly believed himself unworthy. But not so. Now, he and Bruno are regular fuck buds.

Mark loves spending a Saturday night at Bruno’s penthouse pad. The bro is 40, Brazilian, and a total top. Total top. The type of gay dude who won’t even let himself be rimmed. Which is a pity, cause that hunk has an ass worthy of worship. Almost as nice as Mark’s.

Almost.

Mark’s still recovering from Bruno’s first dicking down of the evening. He’s smoking a joint trying to relax, psyching himself up for round two. Cause Bruno always comes back for round two. Poppers will help. Though against a thirty minute, 2nd load pounding from Bruno’s 9-inch Brazilian cunter, poppers might be a necessity.

Out on the balcony, he gives Mark a little glimpse of what he can’t have. What’s off-limits. Bruno likes his cheeky little teases. He knows Mark’s desperate to get his tongue in there, if not his cock. But Bruno hates it. He’s pretty toxic, to be honest. Thinks bottoming is for lesser men. Cocksucking too. It’s beneath him. Doesn’t bother Mark. He makes room in his life for all his beautiful bros. Tops, bottoms, givers, takers, the selfish, the selfless – Mark begrudges none of them. Bruno waggles his butt back and forth, snaps a little wink to Mark, then comes back in to fuck him silly with his huge Brazilian dick.


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

Buy his stories here

Always Willing

CW: Misogyny

Mark seeing to one of his boys in the gym showers. Apparently, the missus is holding out on him. Using sex as a weapon, as women often do. Lucky for him, Mark’s always willing to get a bro off.

Mark will never understand women. Bro here has an eight-inch fuckstick, a jovial but aggressive personality, a roid-honed body, and a handsome face to boot. And yet his wife cares so little about sex that she will use the lack of it against him?

Mark envies no one: he’s got it too good. But sometimes he looks at women with a kind of bemused resentment. Women have such easy access to men, to dick. And yet, they rarely take advantage of it. Or, they exploit it to nefarious ends.

The hoops Mark has to jump through to get these bros to surrender their dicks to him would make most women weep. The risks Mark runs in courting men of questionable sexualities. The social stigma of homosexuality…

Whatever. Her loss. He’ll just continue sucking off her husband, giving him the pleasure she selfishly denies. Mark knows he’s close to getting bro to fuck his ass, too. He keeps pawing at Mark’s glutes, or else bending down to have a grope while Mark sucks him off.

Mark prefaces his encounters by telling his bros to “treat me like a whore in a porno.” That’s enough to make most men perk up. After a few sessions to get comfortable, they take him literally. Once a man’s gotten accustomed to sloppy, deep-throated, facefucked head while the sucker stares up at him in reverence and practically begs for more, it’s hard to go back to safe, boring woman-head. And by that point, even pussy starts to feel kind of meh.

And Mark’s not to blame. He’s an expert at sex, always willing, and actually loving towards men. He’s an androphile. Most women aren’t. Most women endure men, and their sex. But women would do well to start taking pointers from my boi, otherwise more and more men will fall under a good boi’s spell.


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

Buy his stories here

Breeder Cum

CW: F-slur, internalized homophobia

Married, four kids, good job, you know the drill. Doesn’t stop him treating Mark’s fuckhole like a disposable flashlight; good to be thrown in the bin once it’s dripping with his breeder cum. And Mark lets him. For a man like that, there’s not much Mark wouldn’t do.

He’s called Pat, but Mark wants to call him Daddy. He tried it once, and Pat got real pissy. Took Mark’s jaw in his big hand and told him to never call him that again. Mark obeyed. He wasn’t gonna anger a tanked, defensive roidhead for no reason. Still, in his mind, Pat was Daddy.

And to Pat, Mark was faggot. Mark didn’t let just any man call him that. If a gym bro was on his level – on equal footing of masculinity and muscularity – then he wouldn’t allow it. Any gym bro who called him that would be getting a clap back, and Mark was a strong man. But Pat wasn’t on Mark’s level. He was on the next rung up. He was an alpha. Mark wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He recognized their different spheres of manhood, and he respected it. Pat was more of a man than he was.

For men like this – hypermasculine alphas with homosexual ideation – homophobia is often the only way they can square their conflicting feelings. He believes being gay is decadent and feminizing, but he feels drawn to men in a way that goes beyond platonic camaraderie. He wants masculinity. He wants intimacy. These ideas are at war – at least in Pat’s mind.

The better angels of Mark’s nature tell him that he’s helping Pat come to terms with his demons. That he’s showing Pat it’s possible to be a hypermasculine alpha, and truly enjoy the company of men. But the selfish, sordid, dark recesses of Mark’s desire don’t want Pat to overcome his internalized homophobia and find open, liberated comfort in homosex. They want Pat to remain closeted, and frustrated, and homophobic. Because when Pat fucks his breeder cum into Mark’s perfect pussy in a rage of homophobic shame, Mark orgasms like with no one else.

Even my shameless, confident good boi Mark struggles to sweep that one under the rug.


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

Buy his stories here

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