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I had sensed this in him all along, and it's why I put so much effort into our friendship to begin with. I think I might just like doing stuff that I don't like to do, if that makes sense." "Well, I didn't get turned on with the blowjob per se, but after I went home the thought of sucking your dick just because you wanted me to, I felt so dirty that I got really hard and jerked off like three times. You're lucky I was so turned on having you to myself or I probably wouldn't even have cum." "You call that a blowjob? You just licked my cock a little bit. He broke off his statement and I laughed. Like, I can appreciate that you're a good looking person in a general sense, but I don't think I'm attracted to men in a sexual way. "Yeah I don't know," he said, "I'm pretty sure I'm straight. One evening, after a few beers back at my place, we talked about our last hook-up. Despite the awkwardness of our initial encounter, we still managed to get along, and became friends after a few weeks at school. He pursued engineering while I pursued business. I gingerly cleaned his face with the paper towels and sent him on his way.īy sheer happenstance, we ended up at the same school. He tentatively licked it while I jerked off, and came quickly onto his face. I unzipped my dick, which was not all that big or impressive, and gently pulled his face down onto it. He contemplated for a second and then shrugged. Hey, before you go- do you think you could help me with this? I know you're not into it but it would be really hot for me if you'd just suck my cock for a second." I laughed, and said "no big deal, it happens. You're really nice though, thanks for trying this out with me." I was bursting from my pants and, when I reached over to his crotch, found he was still quite limp. We made out in my shitty old 90s stick shift car. He'd had a few beers, I'd had a few beers. I made my move at a graduation party at a mutual friends' parents' house. I would be kind to him, too, but first he would have to earn my kindness. The boy was simply not manipulative, and didn't worry too much about the ulterior motives of others. They were charmed by his simple, well-meaning personality, which concealed a sort of animal intelligence that could only be perceived through his strategic decisions on the field and in a few of his classes. They claimed he had a giant cock, and strong, rough hands, which could bring any girl to her knees in seconds. I knew some girls who had slept with him, who swore by his tender, masculine affections. He'd probably never noticed me before, I was just a young slender effete boy who existed at the very edge of his social sphere.
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A defensive end on the football team, member of a regional championship winning group of boys. He still is straight, at least he says, when I bother to ask him how he feels about things. I met him when we were young, both just 18, and about to graduate school and attend a local community college. Like an artist with a wet lump of clay, every appealing aspect of this man was lovingly hand-crafted by me through a process of dedication and skill, and a bit of luck.
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What most of them don't know is that I actually crafted this image. My domestic, masculine, beautiful, deferrant and respectful, socially adept and just slightly sassy partner in life. I see in the eyes of my friends, regardless of their gender or sexual orientation, that they desire him, or at least appreciate his image. I've known him since high school, and he's certainly one of the most loyal and devoted partners anyone could ask for.
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I'm a bit smaller, a bit more petite, a little more iberian in my skin and hair tone- he's a giant, small-town football player all-American type. I'm speaking specifically about my relationship with my boyfriend, Trent. I'm certainly lucky, and I feel my luck daily- somehow, karmically, I think to maintain this great lucky streak I need to constantly remind myself how exactly I got here. There are some moments when a man must ponder his life.