Straight Men

The thing about straight men is that they don't ask : they just tense up and squirt it in your mouth.


I don't think it even occurs to them to ask, since (to their way of thinking) the fag who's sucking them off is lucky to be getting the load. It's why they like it if you moan while you suck, letting them know how lucky you feel to be sucking on their straight-guy "off-limits" dick.

This particular night, I was on my knees (as I often am), sucking cock like my life depended on it.
It was only me and him. Even his clothes had said he was straight: bright white pants and a huge light-colored cotton plaid shirt.

I could easily see him as he ambled into the dark room.

His walk said that he'd had a lot to drink — enough to get him to a state necessary to let a fag suck him off — to punish his girlfriend, himself, the fag, everyone.

He paused when he saw me, but kept going.
I walked up to him and said "Hey." He emitted some guttural croak.

I said "What's up?" He just stood, weaving slightly, apparently unaware that polite conversation can precede the main event. I didn't mind: I wasn't there to talk either. So I cut to the chase: "Want your dick sucked?"
He didn't respond at all, but he didn't move either (or make like he was going to hit me), so I quickly knelt.

I knew to get your mouth close to his crotch as fast as possible. Even if he's 100% straight, married and Mormon, no man can easily resist a mouth that's within a foot of the Almighty.



I’m on my knees sucking on the fat cock of a young drunk.

He smells funky, he tastes funky; his cock is salty and big, a mouth-filler.

We're in the middle of the dark room.

I moan as I suck, and I mean it. I'm in heaven for the moment. My hands fondle his big hairy balls as I suck.

He stumbles a little, obviously drunk. I readjust and keep sucking, moaning, fondling, as I taste the warm pre-cum. There's a lot of it, and that's something I like. It's slick and salty in my mouth.

Suddenly he grunts as though he's surprised and says something that sounds like "There y'are" and a sharp jet of come shoots into my mouth.

 He grips my skull and pushes his cock deep down my throat.

I feel his cock flexing with each powerful jet. My tongue wraps around the underside and I feel the come surging through.

After three or four muscular pulses, I unroot his cock from my throat so I can get a taste of the juice. There's a lot ; it comes out in thick surges and it's hot and sweet.

I can't remember when I've been given such a huge load of come.

He finally slows and finishes. He lets me suck him a little more, lets me nurse out the last drops, lets me lick him clean.

Then he pulls out and shoves his fat wet dick back into his white pants.

I sit back on my haunches and look up at him. He's not bad looking at all, really. Very young. And very drunk.

"Thanks," I say. He grunts as he zips up.

"You came like a fucking gallon, man." And at that he looks down at me and actually grins. A beautiful grin.

"Hadn't had any for a couple weeks. Bitch is on the warpath."

I nod and just repeat, "Thanks."

He grins again and says in a thick drunk voice "Well...you're welcome !"

I watch as he walks out into the darkness.

This PIG has helped another straight man in his hour of need.