Bisexual Men's Wives Ch. 09

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Bisexual man avoids creepy males and flaky women.
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Samuelx
Samuelx
2,126 Followers

"It's my life," Stanley Thurgood said to himself, and the big and tall, dark-skinned young African American man looked at the OC Transpo bus that sped away, leaving him stranded across the street from the Walmart located on Innes Road, in the east end of Ottawa, Ontario. The 94 bus sped through the highway, going toward the West End. Stanley knew that he would have to wait another half an hour before he caught another bus and brought his black ass home. Life quite simply sucks sometimes...

For the thousandth time, Stanley wondered what could have possessed him to leave his hometown of Detroit, Michigan, and move to Ontario, Canada. After spending some time at his uncle Alan Thurgood place in the City of Windsor, Ontario, Stanley decided that small-town Canada wasn't for him. Stanley tried his luck in the City of Toronto and although he loved the big metropolis, it was too expensive to live and too hard to navigate since he didn't have a car anymore. That's how Stanley ended up in the City of Ottawa...

Fast forward three years, and Stanley Thurgood is a new permanent resident of Canada. The brother still speaks with a thick Michigan accent, which his friends and co-workers constantly point out. Stanley has a Police Foundations diploma from Algonquin College and wants to be a police officer. Unfortunately, Stanley is going to have to wait until he's a Canadian citizen. For now, he's working security, a gig which he definitely doesn't love...

Stanley thought of a rather lousy experience he had that morning, while standing guard at the gate of the Walmart on Innes Road. The life of a security guard is by no means super exciting and when it is, it's definitely for all the wrong reasons. Usually, the security guard is being picked on by assholes and bitches working for Walmart, or those extremely lousy people who shop at Walmart. Nope, on that day, Stanley's pain came from a most unusual individual...

There was this weird young white dude named James, who had a disabled hand, and kept leering at Stanley while the brother was just working security. Seriously, what's with queer dudes always getting the urge to hit on random guys? It's almost as if it's the law or something. Now, Stanley is by no means homophobic. The burly, dark-skinned brother is bisexual and although somewhat private about it, he simply believes in living his life and letting other people live theirs.

The LGBT community treats bisexual people, especially bisexual men, like shit, so Stanley doesn't feel drawn into their world. He mostly leads a straight life, preferring women to men. For this and many other reasons, James and his ilk don't appeal to Stanley at all. A man, whether gay or bisexual, who goes around having sex with random men without knowing diddly squat about them is asking for an STD...or worse. He could end up having sex with a psycho and then vanish without a trace. Obviously, James is a member of that risqué club...

"We should go in the washroom at the back of the Walmart, I'll blow you," James said, leering at Stanley through those super-intense, weird eyes. Stanley had seen eyes like that on most queer males. The moment they saw an attractive, masculine man, they simply had to make weird, super-intense eye contact and then follow that man around. Stanley had no desire to have a sexual encounter with James. The bozo was short, pale, ugly, and oh yeah, creepy as fuck...

"No thanks, I don't fuck around," Stanley replied, and James shot him a weird look, as if getting turned down by another man had never happened to him. While Stanley worked security at the door, James, a long-time employee of Walmart, kept coming around. He looked at Stanley the way a hungry person looks at fast food. Oh, and he wasn't the only one. There was also Aiden, the tall and athletic, rainbow-button-wearing white dude who worked at the nearby McDonald's.

"Whatever," James said, and he walked away from Stanley, looking at him as though there was something wrong with Stanley for turning him down. Stanley shook his head, thankful that he'd dodged another bullet. Whenever Stanley thought of a man sexually, he didn't think of the super-annoying, effeminate ones that were so common in Ottawa, walking around the mall with their obligatory female friends.

Stanley also didn't like guys like James, who were weird, always in search mode, doing the super-eye-contact thing to spot random gay men and bisexual men in crowds. Guys like James didn't respect relationships or boundaries. They didn't care if a man had a wife or girlfriend, or hell, even a male lover or partner. James was a cruiser, and in all likelihood, the weird little fucker probably had an STD.

Stanley wouldn't sleep with James if the fucker was giving it up for free, which he was. Stanley cannot speak for other bisexual men, but he has some principles and self-respect, damn it. What's wrong with people meeting, and getting to know each other, instead of just leaping into bed? Apparently, every gay man and every bisexual man in the City of Ottawa is programmed to make super-intense eye contact with random men and proposition them for bathroom sex. Well, Stanley isn't programmed to do that, so he really doesn't fit in...

Stanley is twenty five years old and has only been with two women at this point in his life. The first was a blonde-haired, curvy and busty white female escort named Amy, whom he met in the Vanier area. The second was Stanley's first serious girlfriend Veronica Angus. From the moment they met at Algonquin College, veronica simply took Stanley's breath away. She was a tall, curvy, big-booty young black woman with a smart mouth, totally his type. They dated throughout his days at Algonquin College.

Stanley enjoyed sex with Veronica and wanted them to have something permanent. Veronica graduated from Algonquin College and moved back to the City of Kingston, Jamaica, where she hails from. Stanley really misses Veronica. When she was in his life, they had sex regularly, and his other side was dormant. Stanley loved having Veronica in his life. Things were better when she was around...

Stanley is well aware that he's bisexual and thusly also feels drawn to men once in a while. Stanley doesn't creeps or weirdoes, which seem to make up the bulk of the gay male and bisexual male population of Ottawa, Ontario. He'd rather meet a guy who's normal-looking, normal-sounding, and honest, instead of a creepy weirdo with a staring problem, effeminate mannerisms and stalker tendencies. Is that an impossible request?

While working security, Stanley saw lots of people walk into the Walmart on Innes Road. He found himself checking out a tall, attractive young Arab woman who wore the Hijab and worked at the store. Dana something or other, that was her name. When Dana caught Stanley looking at her, she furtively looked away. Miss Arabia has an ass like whoa, Stanley thought, discretely checking out Dana's derriere as she went about her duties as a cashier.

"She's pretty hot, huh," came a female voice, and Stanley stopped gawking at Dana the Hijabi, and looked at...her. Brittany, the curvy, dark-haired young white woman from the Tim Horton's located less than thirty feet from him. There Brittany was, his fellow Algonquin College alum, still wearing her Tim Horton's uniform. Stanley smiled at Brittany, and the young woman returned his smile. Stanley felt a pleasant frisson down his spine, and Brittany sighed, shaking her lovely head.

"Hey, Brittany, what's up?" Stanley asked, and Brittany smiled coyly. A few months ago, Stanley met Brittany through truly awkward circumstances. He'd gone to the Tim Horton's one morning prior to his shift at Walmart, and Brittany, who was working, got yelled at by a trucker. Fed up with the guy's abusive language, Stanley told the trucker to go fuck himself. The trucker looked at Stanley, and challenged him to a fight. Only the timely intervention of a Walmart manager prevented Stanley from whooping the trucker's pale ass...

"You didn't come by during your break," Brittany said, pouting, and Stanley grimaced. In an effort to get away from James creepy stare, he'd left the store during his lunch break and gone to the Shawarma restaurant located across the street. Stanley looked at Brittany, and for the thousandth time, he cursed whatever unimaginable force out there put him on the radar of creepy guys like James. He didn't want anything to do with them, but they were always after him. James admitted to himself and his close friends that he was bisexual, but he didn't want to hook up with random dudes. What was wrong with his choice?

"I was busy," Stanley said sheepishly, and Brittany licked her lips and drew closer to him. Stanley's heart went pitter-patter in his chest, wishing that he didn't feel nervous in presence of gorgeous young women like Brittany. Of course, he also felt nervous when stared at by queer dudes like James, with their super-eye-contact modus operandi. Stanley wanted to be left alone while figuring himself out, thank you very much...

"Yeah, I see you checking every gal that walks by," Brittany said, and Stanley grinned nervously. He was part of an online discussion group/support group for bisexual men of non-European descent, and he cringed as he read stories of other young bisexual men whose girlfriends rejected them after finding out who they are. Stanley liked Brittany, but he knew that a fine gal like Brittany would want a normal guy and not a switch-hitter like himself. Stanley tried to avoid creepy bozos like James, whom he called the Eye Contact Brigade, but they had ways of always finding him. What's a brother to do?

"Don't mean to be creepy but I've been lonely since my ex-girlfriend Veronica moved back to Jamaica," Stanley said, and Brittany's expression softened. Women usually know when a man is lying to them and they know when he's being honest. Stanley looked at Brittany, briefly admiring her curves and her chest, and those hips. Brittany had the kind of big round ass that was rare on white girls, that's for sure. Stanley was sexually attracted to Brittany, but knew that his bisexual feelings wouldn't go away. That's why creeps like James could spot him...

"Hmm, I'm sorry, Stanley, if you want to talk, I'm totally here for you," Brittany replied, and she then took out her cell phone. Stanley, who's not much of a ladies man, got the hint and dictated his digits to Brittany. She sent him a text right away, and he made a mental note to save her digits in his beat-up old Alcatel phone. Brittany looked into Stanley's eyes and he smiled at her.

"Thank you, Brittany, I'll be in touch," Stanley replied, and Brittany patted his shoulder, and then walked away. Stanley watched Brittany walk away, and was reassured when he checked out her booty and liked what he saw. One of Stanley's biggest fears was to wake up one day, and find himself transformed into a bozo like James. There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a bisexual man, a gay man or a heteroflexible man. There was however something wrong with being a sexual creep who stalks and propositions strangers for bathroom sex...

"See you, handsome," Brittany said, smiling, and Stanley wished her well, then focused on concluding his shift. Hours later, after the 94 Bus finally came and took him home, Stanley was all smiles. Upon reaching his apartment, Stanley got naked and went to bed. He pulled out his dick, and began stroking himself. Stanley thought about Dana, the Hijab-wearing Arab lady, and that big ass of hers...

"Oh yeah," Stanley said to himself, and he stroked his dick while thinking about Dana the Arab gal. Stanley sighed as his dick got hard, but he wasn't feeling Dana. Like most Arab women, Dana probably wasn't into black men, though lots of Arab men had dalliances with black women. Banishing Dana from his thoughts, Stanley began stroking himself to thoughts of Brittany, the sexy white chick from Tim Horton's...

"Hey cutie, let me help you with that," Brittany said, in Stanley's fantasy, and he closed his eyes, visualizing the sexy white gal joined him on his bed. Brittany grabbed Stanley's dick in his fantasy and began sucking him off. Like a lot of young black men, Stanley found young white women with big butts like Brittany quite enticing. For some reason, a stray, intrusive thought slid into Stanley's consciousness. For a brief moment, Stanley saw James in his mind, and banished the thought almost immediately...

"Give me that ass," Stanley told Brittany, in his fantasy, as he bent her over and began drilling his hard dick into her. Like a real freak, Brittany began grinding her big pale ass against Brittany's groin. Stanley pounded away at Brittany, feeding her tight pussy his hard dick. That's more like it, Stanley thought as he fucked Brittany in his fantasy. After Stanley came, he smiled, pleased with himself. That's what I need, more of gals like Brittany and less of creepy males like James, Stanley thought, sighing happily.

Stanley got some rest, and relaxed. The life of a bisexual black man isn't easy, especially in Ontario, Canada. Stanley is slowly learning to accept himself as a bisexual man. He's not ready for sex with males yet. The gay males and bisexual men that Stanley runs into in Ottawa are weirdoes who make too much eye contact, and follow strangers, and proposition them for bathroom sex. Stanley might be bisexual but he's normal in every other aspect and wants nothing to do with such weirdoes.

Shoot, if Stanley were to pick the one man he'd like to get with, it would be a certain tall, handsome Black British boxer who's trying to regain the belts he lost recently. Now that's one man that Stanley would do just about anything for...if they ever met. Stanley turned his thoughts away from his fantasy guy and embraced reality. He's mostly into women and has high hopes for Brittany, provided that she's not a flaky gal or the type to friend-zone him or whatever. Whichever way one slices it, Stanley's life isn't easy, but he would make the most of it...

Samuelx
Samuelx
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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 5 years ago
Yeah you suck

Go ahead and fuck right off

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 5 years ago
Samuelx

You have a fetis for being abused in the comments, don't you? That's the only reason someone would write something this bad. Especially hundreds of times.

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