Have you heard about “The Corrector”? That’s the name Robert gave my big pink strap on, the one I use to fuck supposedly straight men as hard as I possibly can. You see, those men NEED correcting. Someone to show them the error of their straight ways. I see it as a philanthropic service that Robert and I provide: aiding sexually repressed men. Sounds funny, right? Actually, the issue is more serious than you realize.
Sometimes I feel as if I live in an alternate universe from the rest of my kink and swinger friends. Robert and I are magnets for a certain type of discrete sexual hookup, and it’s all down to society’s view of manhood.
In the kink and swinger scene, it is basically expected of women to be bisexual. I have only once come across a woman who didn’t classify herself as bisexual, or at least bicurious. Bicurious usually meaning that she has no experience with other women but is totally open to everything. People in these scenes are used to exploring new things, after all. But this openness regarding sexuality mostly only applies to women. There are men who identify as bisexual, but many couples will avoid them like the plague. Not only do most men prefer to be seen as straight, but many women only like to think of their men that way as well.
The problem is that there are likely just as many bisexual men out there as women, but men are repressed by the image they are expected to maintain. Such men constantly contact us: men wanting some cock, but worried about how others view them. As a matter of fact, these men are totally conflicted on how they view themselves. Our hookups must always remain secret, as they can’t bear the thought of just being seen for who they really are. News flash People: sexuality can’t be seen as a straight line, with homos and heteros on opposite ends. People fall everywhere along such a line, with many people moving in different directions along such a line during their lifetime. And what difference does any of that make with regards to what kind of person you are? None, of course, in an ideal world. Back to reality…..
Here comes the really interesting part. We are hounded by “straight” men looking for a bisexual couple. Straight men looking for a woman to accept their hidden bisexuality. These men often worry that getting fucked by a man makes them seem less manly, but want cock they do, so out comes “The Corrector”! They all love getting fucked by my fake cock!!!! Men have no qualms about sucking Robert’s dick or having their own devoured by him. But they are afraid to conquer that last unexplored frontier. Yes, to being fucked in the ass by a woman, but afraid to be fucked by a man. I know, none of this make sense, but I really AM telling the truth!
I love my strap on, but let’s be honest here. Being fucked by a strap on cannot even compare to the advantages of a real cock. I do explain this to men in no uncertain terms, but it has yet to make a difference. 1) I cannot feel what I am fucking. If it is too tight, or even if I slip out, I wouldn’t notice the difference! I certainly wouldn’t be able to locate the prostate for a good pounding. 2) I cannot relate or know what will please a man most as well as another man would know intuitively.
Men have cocks and know how to use them, so why on earth am I the one fucking all the hot straight men? It just makes no sense to me. Maybe one day the world will be a more tolerant place. Then I will put away the Corrector, and Robert can finally get down to business.
Does your man need correcting?
Confessions of a Gay Rugby Player Part 4. BUY IT NOW!
“Warm up, I’m putting you on in the second half. I want you match sharp.” Match sharp? More like, he is fed up talking to me and wants me to shut up. Why do men never say what they mean? Oh yeah, Oprah says we are emotionally stunted.
At half time, we are twenty-four to nil, and the coach and Captain give their speeches: stay sharp, stay focused, and respect the opposition. The opposition is weak, we could beat them with two men in the sin bin.
“Conor, you’re on for Frank. Work the channels and just tackle.” Al-righty then. I simply don’t understand straight men some days.
Suffice to say, I totally rock Glasgow. Big hits, turnovers, intercepts and a try, the full repertoire of my greatest hits. By the time full-time sounds, the Scots look totally crest fallen. I am, as they say, “the man.” Even Oisin, who just about knows a rugby ball from a football, is patting me on the back. I’m the man, and I’m going to pound the hole off Oisin tonight to celebrate.