Glancing across the room at Blake, fully dressed on his knees, sucking energetically on the cock of a guy I guessed to be about 24 or 25 years old; I couldn't help but smile just a little. I liked Blake. He was a good guy and not a bad bar friend. A vice president of one of the city's two largest banks; whatever that meant, since banks had so many vice presidents, Blake could carry on an intelligent conversation and had sense enough not to embarrass me should we meet during our daily lives.
Blake and I frequented the city's trendy Happy Hour spots and other popular bars and clubs but for entirely different reasons. When we ran into each other at one of those earlier that evening, my usual inclination would have been to decline Blake's invitation to accompany him and the two young guys he picked up there back to his place. Sucking off some random straight or sexually confused guy didn't appeal to me at all, and the idea of paying to do so, which knowing Blake, was more than likely the deal, was laughable.
This night, though, earlier in the evening, when I was introduced to Chris, the tall, attractive guy Blake did not seem interested in, my antennae alerted me to take heed. When I encounter young men like Chris, who, regardless of their professed sexual orientation, broadcast a signal that tells me that with patience, control, regular training, and the right amount of discipline, they can be trained to be an eager and very pleasing submissive, I seldom walk away.
Chris was almost perfectly my type. Although I think some Black and Latino guys are incredibly hot, most of my subs have been white, ranging in age from early twenties to early thirties. Tall, blond, muscular, blue-eyed, Chris Bowers, I learned during conversation, was twenty-four. His hark-haired roommate, Mark Kelly, was a year older. They both worked as roofers. As it happened, Chris and Mark were both of Irish and German heritage and thoroughly working-class, as I preferred my subs to be. I couldn't detect a single effete gene or gay mannerism in Chris. His genes also kept him nearly hairless in all but the appropriate places. I suspected the same would be true for his roommate. I was sure Chris could tell me.
As Blake sucked Mark off on the other side of the large living room, my hunky roofer was seated on a two-cushion love seat beside me with his jeans and gray boxer briefs down around his ankles. As I'd hoped, my straight boy -- they were all boys to me -- began to blush earlier while we were drinking beer when I casually steered the conversation to what Chris would be doing for me while we were at Blake's. I planned for us to leave eventually and go to my place, but there was no point in sharing that with Chris early on and risking making him skittish.
I began by telling him to remove his t-shirt, drop his jeans and shorts, and sit sideways, facing me on the little sofa, with his left knee bent and up on the cushion so his junk was fully displayed for me. The blush which began as we talked spread across his handsome face and down his strong neck as he stripped almost naked and arranged himself as directed, with his already hardening penis and balls on full display.
The handsome, confident, muscular twenty-four-year-old I met earlier that evening looked almost like a timid, embarrassed teenager trying to hide his boner as he placed his hands in his lap to cover his hard cock. I decided my name for him would be Bonerboy, but I wouldn't share that with him yet. I've found it's always good to begin a confident, even alpha straight guy's training by slowly reminding him that beneath that front, he really is just a needy, horny little boy.
I quickly stopped Chris's attempt at modesty without raising my voice.
"I see you've boned up for me already. I thought you would. Don't try to hide your hard cock from me," I instructed.
He quickly removed his hands.
I was pleasantly surprised.
"That's okay," I replied. "You didn't know. Now you do. Remember not to do it again."
"Okay," a soft mumble, almost whispered as a reply.
"Your little cock really is quite hard, isn't it?" I asked casually.
By now, Chris was as red as his cock was hard.
