When I left the flat after my session with first Stephen then Keith, my head was spinning. Does my fascination with these cocks and the way I worked so hard to please them mean I was gay? Did I want to be gay? I made a beeline for one of my regular girlfriends. I was lucky in that I had several lady friends who accepted me turning up as and when. The one I went to I’d been seeing for over eighteen years and we were so sexually compatible it was untrue. I knocked her door and she opened wearing just a long T shirt. I went straight in for the snog and clinch, easing her T shirt up and gripping her gorgeous arse and was delighted to feel my cock spring up. “Great, I’m not gay” She undid my belt and eased my trousers and briefs down and as she fondled my balls, she did a double-take, stood back and said “What have you done?” Once again a stiff prick has no conscience and I’d completely forgotten my now hairless state. She knew that I saw other women and wasn’t bothered by it so I said “Liz and I got pissed the other night and I let her do it for a dare. Actually, it feels quite nice, I might keep it like it.” (Oh what tangled webs we weave, when first we practice to deceive.”) We moved to the bedroom and had an ultra-quick fuck before I “Made my excuses and left”. I got home and as I was drifting off to sleep, my head was in a whirl. I’d always been very lucky with women, and consequently took them for granted I suppose, so why was I suddenly working so hard to please guys? Or to be precise, guys with attitude and big cocks. I’d assumed tht t he relationship I’d had with Andy, the guy who introduced me to my sub and bi sides had been a one off and that I’d reverted to be straight, but Stephen and now Keith, had shown me what a load of crap that idea was. I wanted either one or both of these guys and I wanted to please them. I had a couple of hours sleep, a shower and shave, and by nine o clock as ordered, I was ringing Stephen’s bell, and five minutes later, having stripped as soon as I walked in and poured three very large whiskies, I was on the couch. between two guys who were each a good six inches shorter than me in height, with a massive cock in each of my hands and so turned on my brain and my bollocks hurt.