Fags are disgusting and Connor hates them all! There is no doubt in his mind. But when this raging homophobe finds himself forced to move in with another hunky mechanic, he has no idea that he is about to slowly, but surely, become what he despises the most!
This is a pure work of fiction.
This story does not reflect the views of its author. I do not endorse the actions depicted in this story in real life. All characters featured are above 18. Enjoy!
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FROM HOMOPHOBE TO HOMO
Chapter 09: Fifty flavours of cum
I had been sent to my room to jack off. Robbie did not want to see that.
Witnessing my cock getting hard during our "sessions" made him sick enough, he could not go as far as seeing me ejaculate.
Why did I follow his instructions? Well, it is not like I wanted to stroke my dick in front of him anyway. Besides, I was still feeling very guilty about wasting so much of his cum in the freaking lobby... I definitely wanted to contribute to the "operation semen's collection" myself.
Truth was, after another session of jerking Robbie off, I was super horny. I would jizz in no time.
I lied down in my bed and got up to it. I did not need any porn, the memories of Robbie's dirty talking and exploding in the XXL, extra-thin, condom in my hands were enough to get me going.
Damn, I really hoped that I was not turning into a faggot...
Maybe it was not that bad? It just happened that I had a weird thing when it came to my roommate being a nasty fucker. Somehow, having him doing (and saying) the most fucked-up shit always got me in the mood. That was not making me a homo, though. Right?
No, of course not. I had always been an Alpha and I still loved me some wet pussies.
I unfolded the condom nicely all the way down to the base of my shaft to make sure that I would harvest my sperm for future shipping. My bone was long, thick, and large. Yet, I was still missing an inch to compare with Robbie's true monster cock.
I stroked it, moving my hands up and down slowly, noticing how different the sensation felt from masturbating another guy's dick. Robbie was right, I was very good at this, jerking cocks. If I was pleasuring him as much as I was pleasuring myself, no wonder why he had enjoyed it so much.
As I was expecting, I came in the condom in just a few minutes. Several fat loads.
I mentioned that before, I am really blessed when it comes to my sperm's level. As far as I can remember, I have always come like a geyser.
As instructed by my roommate, I tied the rubber up and was ready to bring it in the kitchen. My phone rang which stopped me as I was standing up.
Fuck, it was my father. He barely never called.
I felt silly with the used condom in my hand but I picked up the phone, maybe something serious had happened.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Connor. What's up, son?"
"I'm fine. Why are you calling, dad? Is there something wrong?"
"Cannot a father reach out to his son once in a while?"
He let go of a long burp to end his sentence.
I was not too sure but he sounded like he was a little drunk, or more than a little.
"Of course, you can call me anytime. How is it going back at the farm?"
"Well... The farm is doing ok..." Another long burp. "That idiot of Cody fucked-up one of the machines, really not the sharpest tool in the box that kid."
Cody was a cool dude from my hometown. I knew him since I was 10 years old. He stayed living there and ended-up helping out my dad at the farm. My dad still called him "kid" although he was my age.
"That sucks. You need my help to try and fix it?"
I was working as a mechanic after all.
"I understood long time ago you would be of no help at the farm, son."
I felt that one hard in my guts.
Dad would always resent me from leaving for the big city. But what was I supposed to do, stay with him at the farm? No girls there to fuck. No clubs to meet them. No pussies to eat.
At 24, I would be spending my life working on heavy machines or feeding the freaking pigs, probably being beaten-up by my dad once a week. The life of Cody pretty much.
I remained silent.
"I'm calling cause I might be passing by New-York next week." He said.
"Really? Why?"
"Just an old story... You remember when the little faggot got too close to Darrell and I and we had to take care of business?"
How could I forget? My dad and his best mate had gone out (in the only bar in the 20 miles radius from our home) and at just 18, I had to go bail them at the police station.
They had gotten into a fight, they explained that a faggot had made a pass at them and they had to defend themselves. This turned into an whole mess and since then, my father had to deal with all kind of legal problems, even years after.
"This again? I thought it was over." I spoke.
"You know how they are, these fairies, connected all over the place. A real man would have settled this in a good old fight but not this sick kind. I have to go see a judge on Wednesday, I got a lawyer appointed or something like that, apparently, I should have paid a fine a couple years back when the trial was over."
"Dad! You knew you had to pay something! I remember that."
"Well, I did not! Fuck them! They can suck my dick!"
I sighed.
"But now, you have to see a judge? Is it serious? If they make you come to NYC, that might be serious..."
"Nah. I don't think so. I mean, the guy had what, a broken rib and he's still coming at me six years after. That's bullshit right there. But again, what else to expect from a queer?"
At least, on this, I was aligned with him. Fags were a plague to our society. Thinking of which, I definitely believe that it was my father who had taught me that in middle-school.
"How much was the fine?"
"5K, something like that, but there are interests now. Look son, I'm dealing with that, but I just thought I would pay you a visit once I'm there and eh, maybe I could stay over at your place. Hotels in NYC are not cheap."
That was the real reason of the call then. He needed a place to stay. Like most children I presume, I wanted nothing more in life than my father to be proud of me.
"Sure, dad. I mean, you'll have to tell me when you arrive exactly. I'll have to make arrangements..."
"Arrangements? I'm not the King of England. Just lend me your couch, that would be fine, your apartment is big enough, right?"