Published on November 7th, 2013 | by Mechelle Lynch0
I Watched Him Touching Himself and His D Was, Well…
So I met this man while I was coming off a rather nasty breakup. Let us call him Paul. As a new friend, I thought he was perfect to tell my tales of woe too.
I figured Paul was as gay as a picnic ham on Sunday, but this was not an issue I held as a deal breaker for the pursuance of a plutonic friendship. His business was his business but he thought I was a friend enough that he could share that part of his existence with me.
He confessed to me that he had once batted for his own team but now is a convert and had even acquired himself a girlfriend. I could see why any woman or man would be attracted to him for he was certainly very dreamy, with a taunt body, clean shaven and he was as handsome as Trey Songz, with a smile that would make anyone wet their knickers.
He was raised a relatively strait child but towards his adolescence years he was raped by a trusted family friend. At first he just whimpered and moan for the initial penetration, which he confided in me, was the most horrible experience he would have to endure. After the third or fourth time, he realised that feelings erupted within him and although he pretended he didn’t like it, he secretly wished for it on a regular basis. He would even pretend to fall asleep at the family friends home, to ensure opportunities we available for the facilitation of their torrid interaction. From that time on he took a liking to taking it up the rear.
We had a few drinks and small talk and I was soon spilling my guts to him. He didn’t know the hideous truth or the underlying factors and therefore could cast no judgement on me. My break up was a burden I needed to unload; and unload I did until I was literally in tears. All the pain and horror had come rushing down on me like a deluge for the heavens (by souders). He held me close and comforted me as I sobbed into his shirt. The snot flowed from my nose as freely as the tears flowed from my eyes. He didn’t seem to mind and soon his shirt sleeve was soggy and contained more makeup then what was on my face!
As he held me close, even in those dark moments he expressed his underlying feelings for me. Now I am a very cosmopolitan type, but the visual I have of him being pounded in the ‘keister’ was one that I didn’t want to be a constant memory for me. As our friendship began to grow and flourish he extended an invitation to his home for a drink. I’m always in the mood for some Sparkling Pink Moscato, paired with some crackers and cheese and sweet grapes to cleanse the palette, so I readily accept the offer to visit his home. It was tastefully furnished and I quite enjoyed the décor.
It seem at this time his girlfriend could no longer take the visual of him taking it up the bum while he was giving it to her… perhaps up the ‘keister’ too, so she had pulled up stakes and shipped out! His prominence as a Brand Manager did nothing to dissuade her from running like a cat being hotly pursued.
Our conversation was light and airy at first and I did enjoy the back and forth banter. After we polished off a bottle of wine and the alcohol kicked in we soon became more open to suggestive conversation, which at this point has turned sexual in nature. Being the curious sort I questioned him extensively about his time of gayness. He explained in detail the feeling that he encountered while ‘batting for the same team’, the type of men he had encountered and the sizes of their penises. I was also given an in-depth play by play of one of his rendezvous. It was pretty amusing in some ways as he was very animated about the encounter, which I assumed he enjoyed immensely. I may have been a little more wasted than I thought as he extended the invitation to me to watch him jack off! Well, with two bottles of wine in my head I was gamed for almost anything. Little did I know he had an ulterior motive for me being in his home!
I agreed to watch him put himself on display but soon got a shock of my life when he took his penis out. In an erect state it was no bigger than a pencil! I did all I could as not to burst out into a fit of laughter. I tried not to look at his penis but was very curious as to what exactly he could accomplish by sticking that anywhere? My mind began to wonder as to the real cause for his girlfriend running for the hills like a scared rabbit. I bet it had something to do with dissatisfaction in the bedroom. All he needed was a sharpener for that little pencil he had in his pants.
After watching him whack his ‘member’ for a while, he finally reached the point of climax. It was like watching a fake murder in a horror movie! He soon spilt his seed in this hand and proceeded, without hesitation to eat it!
At that time I quietly excused myself and ran to the bathroom. Let’s just say the wine and everything came out the same way it went it. What a waste of a good Moscato!
This is the same gentleman who professed he was now as straight as an arrow. Some doubts about that lingered in my grey matter.
There are many things that may be a possibility, but his being miraculously interested in ‘coochie’ after batting for the same team; that claim I found highly unlikely and with the added demonstration I have received did not argue well.
So, is it truly possible for a gay man to revert back to being heterosexual? You decide…