Turn Me On, Dead Men 2

This guy must’ve thought picking up a young bouncer at a gay men’s bar would give him bragging rights. He was not a very attractive man by any standards. Truth is—I chose to jump into bed with him because I intended to use him.

No doubt his natural state was to be naked and alone in his bed.

In comparison to him, I was a young man whom anyone would describe as being in excellent physical condition.

From the moment I first saw him outside on the sidewalk at the front door of the bar, my plan was to fuck him—even though I was not attracted to him in any way.

My eyes were completely open.
I was fully aware that if I put in a little effort, I would find another guy to go to bed with who was much more like me in the sense of being young and in good shape.

So I allowed this guy to think he had talked me into coming home with him.
My plan was to use him. It was that simple.

And, that’s how this got started. I was there fucking him in his bed.

While I pounded him, I felt freed from all lies I had told myself about my sexual identity. I needed this experience fucking that guy.

While I was totally lost in the pleasurable sensations of sex with a man, I became very vulnerable. I spoke to him while I fucked him. He didn’t seem to want to listen to me talking. Yet, I confided to him in that moment how I had only fucked one woman and how I did not find sex with her at all enjoyable.

I was very certain he didn’t care one bit what I said. He only wanted to enjoy getting fucked by me.

I did not feel guilty for choosing to manipulate the guy because he so obviously wanted me to fuck him. He enjoyed being under me as I rammed him hard into his bed. When I ejaculated inside of him, I suddenly was no longer present in my own life. Instead I was floating somewhere else entirely as if in the clouds. Shooting. Shooting. That’s all I knew. How long can one orgasm last? This felt like nothing I had ever before known.

Concludes on page three –>