Curiosity Fucked the Straight Guy

"Hmmmm, since you are a girl," he grunted, "we should give you a girl's name."

The idea made my cock flinch with excitement. "Yes, rename your bitch," I eagerly moaned. A new name meant a new life, one where I could be who I wanted to be.

"Let's see, all we have to do Evan is take away the n and what to we got?" he asked, making me say it first.

He was now sliding his cock in and out quicker, although never completely going all the way in. I moaned, a haze of excitement and submission, "Eva, my name is Eva."

"Good girl," he purred and stunned me by pulling out.

Like an addicted crystal meth addict, I bellowed, "Noooooo."

He chuckled as he went to the closet. "If you are Eva now, you should dress the part."

I stayed on all fours, legs spread open, easily the worst position to ever be caught in, waiting submissively.

He returned with a red wig and stockings. He handed them to me and ordered, "Put these on and return to your position, Eva. I will be back in a couple of minutes."

"You are leaving me here?"

He smiled, "Already needy. You may really have already become Eva."

I flushed red again and after he dressed and left, I stared at the stockings. I didn't even know how to put them on properly. Being alone gave me time to reconsider what I was doing. This becoming a girl had never been part of my fantasies, yet obeying his requests was a major turn-on. I began to put the stockings on, when the same flamboyant waiter from earlier walked in. I quickly tried to cover myself.

"Greg sent me in to make sure your feminization was going ok," he announced, walking over to me.

"He did?" I asked dumbfounded.

The gay waiter smiled. "Yes, he will be back in a few minutes."

"Oh," I replied, disappointment washing over me.

"First time in stockings?" he correctly assumed.

"Um-yeah," I replied, my frustration at putting on the stockings building.

He fell to his knees and took the crumpled stocking. "Here, let me help."

I watched as he rolled the stocking onto his hand expertly and slowly put it on my foot and up my leg. His soft hands on my legs had my cock begging for attention. He replicated the slow procedure on my other leg. Once done, he stood back up and grabbed the wig. Once it was on, he smiled and said, "With a little make-up you would make a pretty girl."

What should have been a major insult instead excited me. He went into the closet and returned with a make-up bag. He then sat on the couch beside me and as he called it, "Put my face on." He put eyeliner, blush and lipstick on.

Once done, he stood up and looked me over. It felt incredible awkward, as if I was a piece of meat. He smiled, clearly impressed with his work, and said, "Greg will love you." Without another word he left, leaving me alone and half-dressed as a girl.

Being alone was excruciating as I just waited, like a late night booty call, for him to return. I caressed my own stocking clad leg. I had always liked the silky feel of stockings even though my wife had long quit wearing them for me. It was almost an hour, my cock long since tamed and flaccid, before Greg returned.

He apologized, "Sorry for taking so long, but I am a bit short staffed tonight."

I mumbled, "It's ok."

He smiled, walking over to me, "Oh my, Alex made you fucking gorgeous."

I blushed at the strange compliment. "Thank you."

"Are you ready to finish what we started, Eva?"

I nodded as he dropped his pants again. I took his semi-erect cock back in my mouth, preparing it for my pussy. He moaned, "That's it Eva. Get my cock nice and hard for your tight pussy."

I moaned, eager to make exactly that happen. My ass felt empty and I craved having it filled again. Feeling Greg's double-wide grow in my mouth and knowing it was because of me, was a huge turn-on. One it had grown to its fully erect size, I changed my style. Unlike the last time when I slowly pleasured his cock, this time, I bobbed on it back and forth furiously.

"Good girl," he purred as he pulled his cock out of my mouth.

Without instruction I resumed my submissive, ready-to-get-fucked, position. He lubed his cock again and returned to finish the job he started. He placed his slippery stick at my pussy and slowly re-entered me. The burning sensation immediately returned, but it was a much number pain than his first penetration.

I let out a whimper as he pushed deeper into me, my pussy eagerly attempting to open for him. "You are so fucking tight, Eva," he grunted, his hands on my stocking-clad ankles. "And I love a girl in stockings."

He suddenly stopped and asked, "Are you ready to have your pussy really fucked, Eva?"

"Oh god yes. Please fuck me like some cheap slut," I begged, wanting nothing more.

"Get ready, this first stroke is a doozy," he warned, bucking his hips forward.

I screamed, an intense pain shuddering through me as he filled my ass, my pussy, with all his cock. He again just held it there, his cock entirely inside me, allowing me to get used to it, as the pain slowly faded. He explained, "Eva. Your pussy may be the tightest I have ever felt. I just want you to stay there and get accustomed to the feeling of a big, hard, cock inside you. How does it feel?"

I whimpered, "It still hurts, but yet feels so fucking good."

"Just relax, the hurt will go away and the sweet pleasure will take over," he advised.

I obeyed, just allowing my ass to get used to being full. He continued, "You are so pretty, Eva. If I threw a dress on you and sent you out there you would be devoured whole. You would be sucking cock after cock after cock, while your tight pussy got drilled over and over and over again. Would you like that, Eva? To be a gangbang slut?"

Every word he said only made my decline to utter cock submission more appealing. I suddenly envisioned being taken in both holes, being used by man after man. Finally, I replied, actually wanting such an incomprehensible thing to happen to me, "Oh yes, I would love to be fucked over and over again. But first, please, fuck me. I am ready."

"Are you sure?"

"I have never been surer of anything in my life. Please fuck my ass," I begged.

"You mean your pussy?" he corrected.

I played along. "Yes. My pussy, my cunt, my fuckhole...please pound me like the little girl I am."

Suddenly, I felt him begin to slowly move in and out of my ass. Each almost pull out and emptying of my ass, was soon replaced by his full manhood. The feeling of empty and full was the most thrilling and frustrating feeling ever.

I wanted it harder...I wanted it faster...I wanted it deeper. I begged, "Don't make love to my pussy, fuck it. Fuck it hard."

This seemed to surprise him, but he obliged and began quick hard thrusts. He grunted, "Like this, slut?"

I huffed and puffed, unable to complete a sentence, the mixture of pleasure and pain clouding my brain. "Oh-yes-aaaaah-fuck-god-fuck-yes-aaaaah."

"I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled as he continued his piston like pumping of my clearly no longer virgin back end.

My cock felt stiffer than I ever felt it before, yet I was stuck in the eternal vastness of orgasm limbo. I wanted to come so bad, yet nothing happened, even though my cock was constantly feeling intense pulses of pleasure.

He pounded my pussy for a long time before warning, "I got one of the patron faggots to blow me while you were getting feminized, Eva. I am not even close yet."

"Aaaah, good," I squeaked out, "I don't want this to end."

"I need a break; you bounce back on my cock, Eva. Fuck yourself like a good little slut."

I obeyed, like the good little slut I wanted to be, as I bent back and began bouncing back and forth, taking his cock even deeper in me. A pain returned briefly, but quickly subsided as I fucked myself on his beautiful cock. I could feel his balls slap on my ass with each backwards thrust, each thrust a constant reminder I was being fucked by a guy. I bounced back on his cock forever, until he finally picked me up, flipped me on my back, grabbed my legs together, leaned forward and hammered me from a new intense angle. I don't know if he went deeper, but from this position, the sensation was completely different. I closed my eyes until he demanded, "Look at me when I fuck you, Eva!"

I opened my eyes and watched him. Perspiration dripped as he pulverized my pussy.

A few more minutes in this new submissive position and he began grunting more and he asked, "I'm close Eva. Where do you want my cum?"

Without hesitation I answered, "I want to taste you. Please come in my mouth."

He quickly pulled out and shoved his cock in my eager mouth. He surprised me by holding my head with both hands and began to face-fuck me. He grunted, "Get ready, Eva."

Seconds later I was swallowing my second ever load of cum. The taste was completely different, yet oddly similar, and I eagerly savoured every drop. Once spent, he pulled out and asked, "Do you want to come?"

My raging hard-on spoke for me. "Oh god, yes."

He fell to his knees and took my cock in his mouth. He deep throated me easily and in less than thirty seconds I warned, "I'm going to come."

He kept sucking and as soon as he shoved two fingers back into my gaping ass, I sprayed his throat with my cum. He didn't slow down until long after I was done.

Finally, he stood up and smiled, "So did you enjoy yourself?"

Exhausted, yet still craving more, I replied, "It was way better than anything I fantasized."

"You will be sore tomorrow," he warned.

"I imagine so," I replied, unable to get used to the emptiness in my ass.

As he got dressed, he suggested, "and if I were you I would give yourself time to recover. The biggest mistake a newbie makes is allowing his ass to be fucked too much before it is accustomed to the pleasurable violation."

"Really?"

"Yep. Trust me I have a fair amount of experience in bottoming virgins like you, although I have never felt such a tight ass as yours."

"Thanks, I guess," I replied with an awkward smile.

He said, "If you lived here, I would regularly top you."

"I wish," I honestly replied.

"I need to get back to the club. Feel free to stay here till you are recovered. But be warned, Alex was checking you out."

"He was?" I asked, not used to being checked out.

"Trust me. I imagine he had to restrain himself from gobbling your cock when he got you ready. He loves guys in drag."

"Oh," I replied, dazed.

"Keep the stockings. They look really good on you."

He disappeared and I was alone and strangely craving more cock to suck. I kept the stockings on, but dumped the wig and got dressed. I returned to the club and got a lot of strange looks.

An older man, probably fifty, said, "Well, aren't you pretty?"

I suddenly realized I still had make-up on. I was embarrassed and quickly went to the bathroom to clean myself up. I was looking at myself in the mirror when the older man reached around from behind, grabbed my cock and said, "Follow me, pretty boy."

I mindlessly followed him into a bathroom stall. As soon as the door was closed, he pushed me onto my knees and dropped his trousers. "Is this what you want, pretty boy?"

I didn't answer but instead took his smaller five-inch cock in my mouth. The smaller cock was a pleasant change and I easily deep-throated him. All I wanted was to feel his cum spray down my throat so I sucked his cock eagerly ignoring my usual foreplay tease.

Within a couple of minutes he was moaning, "That's it pretty boy, I'm almost there." A few seconds later I was swallowing his cum, which although not as sweet as my last two, quenched my thirst.

Once done, he buckled himself up and said, "Thanks pretty boy."

I remained on my knees as he left the stall quickly.

Exhausted, I quickly washed my face and left the club.

The next day was all day meetings, followed by a supper with a new potential client. The whole evening my brain played tricks on me. I wondered if his cock was big. I wondered if the twenty-year-old waiter would allow his tip to be a blow job. I wondered how long I had to wait before getting the thrill of a cock in my ass again. When I excused myself to go the bathroom, I glimpsed at the guy beside me taking a piss.

He noticed and said, "What the fuck are you doing?"

I stammered, "N-n-nothing," and quickly looked away embarrassed.

Back at the table, I couldn't believe how much I craved a cock in my mouth. Every guy I saw was a faceless potential cock. Yet, I was still way to uncomfortable too actually aggressively offer my eager cocksucking services.

That night I ended up jerking off in my hotel room, before returning to the bland existence of suburbia.

...

The next six months I became more confident in myself and had sucked men, young and old, in over a dozen cities and had my bottom tapped eight more times. Being on the road, I left my vanilla existence behind. Living the double life was exhausting and I constantly stressed trying to balance my home life with my newfound sexuality.

Ironically, it was while at home during summer vacation that the two lives collided. It was while at home that I became the personal faggot for one of my son's baseball teammates...but that is an entirely different story.

Curiosity: Got Him a Black Teen Top

In part one, my curiosity got the better of me and I had my first cocksucking and later my first bottom experience. Having a job where I traveled a lot allowed me to begin to have a whole new life. On the road, I was a faggot who loved sucking cock and being a bottom to complete strangers. It was exhilarating, but the emptiness I felt when at home when I had to live the father, husband vanilla life was becoming harder to do. I craved cock like someone craves nicotine. And just like when quitting smoking you go through withdrawal, I was going through withdrawal too.

I mean I love my kids. Actually, if it wasn't for them I would have left my wife years ago. I still love her, I just don't love-love her. The thrill is long dead. I mean she is still quite attractive, but the sexy, naughty side of her died after my daughter was born. She went through some serious postpartum depression and her vagina and sexual appetite shrivelled up like a raisin. We were going through the motions now, having sex a few times a year and just biding our time. My daughter was going into grade twelve and would be turning eighteen in a couple of months while my son just ended his first year of college. I was actually considering ending the marriage, the charade of my duel existence becoming too much. When at home, I constantly craved cock and wasn't sure how much longer I could resist my growing need to suck cock and was I willing to risk everything to quench my thirst for cum...when my problem was solved for me.

It was at my son's ball game when it began, innocently. I was watching the warm-ups when I noticed the outfielder, grabbing his crotch to adjust himself. Instantly, I wondered if the rumours were true about black men and their cocks. He was a tall, built, black man. Curiosity got the better of me and I spent the majority of the warm-up watching this black teenager. He adjusted himself twice more during warm-up and I assumed it was because his big black cock didn't fit his jockstrap. Or at least that was what I was imagining in the cocksucking fantasy I was currently having.

The game started and in the bottom of the first the black boy was called to the on deck circle. His name was Jimmy Jones I learned and he warmed up like a batter on deck does. As he reached down to pick up his bat he adjusted himself. When he moved back up he was eye-to-eye with me. I quickly looked to the field casually. He went to the plate and doubled in the first run. While at second, getting his lead he adjusted himself again and looked over to where I was sitting. I didn't think there was any way he could get a clear look at me from there, but I was suddenly self-conscious. I considered leaving as my secret desires had to remain under the surface, yet I couldn't leave my son's first game, even if he was on the bench. The next couple of innings went rather normal and I realized the thought that some 18-year-old kid could tell my secret was absurd...yet the next time he was in the on-deck circle he definitely looked directly at me and adjusted his package. I blushed as I tried to hide my growing hunger by looking away. I resisted the temptation to look back until he was at bat. I watched him from behind, his tight young ass seemingly wiggling at me, for me. Just before he stepped into the batter's box, he turned around and looked directly at me, through me. Again, I quickly looked away, like a shy school-girl.

Two pitches later he homered, giving his team a 3-1 lead. He made the same moves for the rest of the game. He grabbed his crotch a few more times, I thought he looked directly at me a few more times and I quickly looked away a few more times. It had become a game of cat and mouse and I was clearly the mouse.

Up 12-3 in the eighth, Jimmy was replaced by my own son, which seemed rather ironic. My son grounded out to end the inning, unfortunately. The game ended 12-4 and I went to meet my son. On my way there, I saw a smug Jimmy walking towards me. His smile stayed until he reached me.

"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked.

I replied, acting as manly as I could considering I badly wanted to see, touch and taste this young man's cock, "It was a good game."

"Not that," he said, shaking his head, his smile going wider, "Did you enjoy my show?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, feigning not to understand the implication.

Just then my son showed up. I said, "It was a good game, Simon."

"Thanks Dad, but I didn't do much." He shrugged.

"Win as a team, lose as a team," I countered.

Jimmy added his two cents' worth, "Yes, we need back-ups too Simon. People to help keep the starters motivated."

It seemed just a little condescending on the surface, yet, I briefly pondered if he was implying something sexual based on our very brief interactions.

An awkward pause followed before my son said, "I'm going to take a quick shower before we head home, ok."

"Sure, sure," I said, nervous and excited to be alone again with this confident teenager.

My son left and Jimmy asked, "So does he know?"

"Know what?" I asked, playing dumb.

"That his Daddy is a closet queer?"

"I am not!" I adamantly denied.

"You can seriously look into my face and tell me you don't want to taste some chocolate?"

He asked, grabbing his crotch again.

Even though my words denied his assumptions, my stiff cock and red cheeks couldn't hide my lust. I finally said, fighting my eagerness to taste the chocolate, "I need to go."

He grabbed my shoulder and leaned into my ear, "Look faggot. I know, I always know, when some supposed straight guy is really a queer. And you are definitely a queer, aren't you?"

"I-um-I," I stammered, rattled by his aggressiveness.

"Look daddy. There are lots of white faggots eager to be my little fuck-toy. If you want the privilege, tell me now!" he demanded.

I didn't make eye contact but whispered, "I do."

"You do what?" he asked, forcing me to say it.

"I want to be your fuck-toy," I admitted, humiliated, but added, "but please not here."

"Fair enough, no one else needs to know you're a faggot. But I do want to sample my merchandise today."

"Kkkkkkkk," I whispered, my mouth salivating over the thought of tasting his chocolate meat.

"I expect to meet you here at ten tonight, understood faggot?"

"Yes," I submissively agreed.

"Good, don't you dare be late, cocksucker," he warned before leaving.

I stood there frozen for a brief time before quickly adjusting my stiff cock and going to the car to wait for Simon. In the car, I briefly pondered the potential hazards of my new predicament. On the one hand, I desperately wanted to taste him, to suck my first black cock. Plus, his confident manner only enhanced my eagerness to submit. On the other hand, it was easy to get away with it hundreds or thousands of miles away, but in my own backyard the risk of getting caught increased exponentially. Also, he knew my son. The slippery slope was getting increasingly slick.