Anal Sex with Stranger on a Train 04

"It's just a cock. I'm sure you've seen lots of cocks before, bigger and better than mine," said Peter.

Peter moved his hand away to stand before Robert naked not only physically but also emotionally. He felt so vulnerable. He felt so frightened. He's never felt so alive.

"Some heterosexual you are," said Robert. "You already have an erection," he said walking closer to Peter. "Let Mommy see your big prick," she said.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortably creepy, Peter tensed himself by what was about to happen.

"Other than my doctor, no man has ever touched my cock before," said Peter relaxing his hand and putting his arms by his sides as if he was having a physical exam before being inducted in the military.

As if waiting to have his tooth pulled by the dentist, Peter grimaced.

"Relax," said Robert. "You have a nice prick," she said taking him in her hand. "Normally I make out with a man before taking his cock in my hand but don't worry, I won't kiss you. I'll just touch you, feel you, and grope you in the way that you touched, felt, and groped me on the train," said Robert laughing loudly again.

Robert stroked Peter's cock long enough for him to get an even stiffer erection.

"This is weird," said Peter, "so very weird."

"Weird? What's so weird? That you have an erection within just a few seconds of me stroking you?" He laughed while leaning closer into him. "I promise not to tell anyone Peter that you're a gay man masquerading as a married, heterosexual man."

"I'm not gay," said Peter. "I like women. I love women. I lust over women."

Only, right now, Peter couldn't think of any women that he'd rather be with than Robert masquerading as Roberta.

"Shall I give you a gay test?"

Peter imagined being blindfolded and bound to Robert's bed.

"A gay test? There's no such thing as a gay test." Doubting that there was, Peter wondered if there was. "Is there?"

Equally as sexually excited by the thought of being blindfolded and bound to Robert's bed, with him already standing there naked in a gay man's apartment, he felt a little repulsed by the thought of being sexually used and abused by a man as he did sexually aroused.

"Actually there is a gay test and it comes in handy at a time like this," said Robert.

"Go ahead. I'm game," said Peter. "Give me the test."

"Okay. Name six of your favorite female singers," said Roberta.

"Six? I'm not sure if I can even think of one at a time like this," said Peter feeling awkwardly uncomfortable standing naked in front of a man.

"Try," said Roberta.

"Okay," said Peter. "Cher, of course. I love her," he said holding up his hand to count on his fingers. "Bette Midler, Madonna, oh, I know, Lisa Minnelli, and her mother Judy Garland. I love them both," said Peter looking at Roberta while giving her and uncomfortable smile.

"That's five," said Robert. "Do you have one more?"

"Saving the best for last, I do," said Peter. "The queen of song, Barbara Streisand."

As if a conductor leading a symphony orchestra, Robert used his index finger to accentuate his words.

"Gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, and gay. All of those female singers have a huge following of gay men," said Robert with a laugh. "No doubt about it Peter. Simple as that, you're gay."

As if asking for a recount after losing a political election, Peter looked at Robert with doubt that he was gay.

"Is that it? Is that the gay test? That's not much of a test," said Peter. "Just because I like certain female singers doesn't prove that I'm gay."

"Let me ask you this then," said Robert giving Peter a smile.

"What?" Peter looked at him with curiosity.

"Do you have a pink shirt?"

"Doesn't everyone? Having a pink shirt doesn't mean that I'm gay," said Peter.

"Okay, forget about the pink shirt, tell me this then."

"What?"

"What's your favorite color?"

"My favorite color? Is this a trick question? Are you expecting me to say chartreuse?"

"No," said Robert. "Go on, tell me. What's your favorite color?"

"Periwinkle," said Peter without even thinking.

"Periwinkle? Seriously? Your favorite color is periwinkle?" Robert laughed. "Never mind a color, straight men don't even know what periwinkle is. Straight men no doubt think that periwinkle is a shell fish to eat in the way of snails," said Roberta.

"I, um, used to have a big box of Crayola crayons, the 64 colors with the built-in sharpener," using that as his excuse in his defense. "I used to love to color. I found that very relaxing and periwinkle has always been my favorite color, in the way of a slate or cornflower blue.

"Gay. You're as gay as an interior designer to be able to identify more than one shade of blue when the average heterosexual man would describe just blue for everything that's blue, from jeans to cars," said Roberta. "Periwinkle is a gay answer and you're a gay man."

"Periwinkle is not a gay answer and I am not a gay man," said Peter.

"Okay? Then, who's your favorite female movie star?"

"Marlene Dietrich," said Peter without thinking.

"Marlene Dietrich? Unbelievable," said Roberta laughing at Peter's answer. "How about a male movie star?"

"Rock Hudson," said Peter with pride.

"Oh, you're making this test way too easy," said Roberta laughing again. "You do know that Rock Hudson was gay, right? And that he died of AIDS?"

Peter looked at Roberta as if he was lying while trying to remember what he heard about Rock Hudson.

"Rock was gay? No, I didn't know that. I didn't know his sexual orientation and it wouldn't matter to me. Growing up watching old movies on TV, I just liked his movies and I enjoyed how he interacted with Doris Day and Tony Randall," said Peter.

"It's okay. You can be as gay as you want with me. Your gayness will be our little secret," said Robert with a laugh.

Peter looked at him with curiosity.

"Aren't you going to take that off your clothes so that we can have anal sex?" Peter looked at Robert as if he was anxious to get this over with and get the Hell out of there.

"You can always pull down my jeans in the way you pulled down my panty and bend me forward in the way that you did in the train," laughed Robert.

Peter imagined Robert wearing panties. Wondering which color panties he was wearing, white, yellow, red, blue, green, purple, or black, he hoped he was wearing blue panties, his favorite color. In the way that he was wearing blue, cotton, bikini panties on the train, he hoped he was wearing blue, cotton, bikini panties, now.

"Are you wearing panties now?" Peter looked at Robert with lust.

"No, not at the moment. I'm wearing briefs, white briefs for support of my package," he said grabbing himself as if he was Michael Jackson.

"Oh," said Peter.

"Besides, what's the rush? I want to suck you a little first," he said falling to his knees to take Peter's cock in his mouth.

Suddenly Peter's cock went soft.

"Sorry," he said after watching Robert unsuccessfully stroking him and sucking him. "Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe I should go," said Peter looking down at himself. "Obviously you were wrong about me being gay."

"Give me a minute," said Robert standing. "Having been through this lots of times before, I know what's wrong."

"You do? What?"

"Trust me. I'll be back in a jiffy," said Robert wiggling his ass out of the room.

To be continued...