A brief meditation on the desire to be 'one of the lads' by someone who can never be.
A brief meditation on the desire to be 'one of the lads' by someone who can never be. OR: Why I shouldn't be left alone with a hot guy's dirty laundry. Hopefully interesting, occasionally funny, Probably True.
Stories of queer life and even queer-er sex.
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I don’t know why I have such a thing for straight guys.. Not exclusively, obviously. I occasionally have a thing for gay guys, too, or y’know, this podcast series would be a lot shorter. But my point is that straight guys are hot. Differently hot to gay guys.
Even in porn, straight guys are hotter. And I don’t mean in the “I’m a straight guy, grrr manly, let’s all take a shower after sports oh look what’s happened, well if you insist, it would be rude not to yeah give it to me harder bro” sort of a way.
Besides, in straight porn, there’s boobs. And those things are hilarious, bouncing around like that. It’s weirdly hypnotic, especially if they’re big ones. They remind me of those joke glasses you can get with the eyeballs on springs, just bouncing around everywhere… A mate of mine told me once he could get them to move sideways together and apart, together and apart just by varying his rhythm. I honestly don’t know if that’s a thing, but it sounds complicated.
Even in non-sexual situations, like actual gym changing rooms instead of the ones in those lovely movies, there’s lots of ‘waaaaay lads’ style banter. I hate that word, but that’s exactly what it is.
Y’know, post-football or rugby, all the guys getting naked together, showering in front of each other and it all being ok because they’re just The Boys, all just stripping off and lathering up together, joking and chatting as the water splashes all over their pert, athletic bodies and their hairy, pendulous… I need a minute.
I’m back. So, yeah, straight guys are hotter. Although I suppose if it were gay guys in thee showers like that, there’s more chance of life imitating art and it all becoming a big soapy sex pile… Anyway.
I live with two straight guys at the moment, and when I was choosing housemates, I made sure they were both straight guys I wasn’t attracted to. I narrowed it down to two candidates, and the one that won was the one I didn’t fancy.
I don’t think I’d have been able to relax if there was a hot guy in my house. I think I’d be constantly trying to impress him, or y’know, sniffing his dirty pants or listening outside his bedroom door whenever he brought a girl back, wanking myself senseless, listening to them grunting and moaning away and trying not to leave a tell-tale drizzle of jizzle down the outside of his bedroom door…
Stuff like this is why I should live alone.
Or, y’know, have really hot housemates who don’t mind the extra attention they’re getting… Maybe when I’m older, I’ll get a huge flat or house or something, and let really hot guys live there for cheap rent as long as they let me watch. Like a different yet somehow still not quite as gross version of the Playboy Mansion…
Actually, that remind me of one of the student houses I used to live in. It was one of those houses where every room got converted, so the owner could make as much money as possible. The front door opened into some one of the girl housemates’s bedroom. I can’t remember her name, but that’s probably for the best.
She used to bring guys back all the time. All the time. Like 5 or 6 times a week, there’d be grunting, slapping noises coming from her room. To be honest, I’m not sure where she got the energy or the money to be out picking up guys so much. This was before apps and stuff, because I’m old, but her energy and stamina were genuinely quite impressive in a strange sort of way. Sadly, I’m told the same couldn’t always be said for the boys she brought home.
Anyway, one of the other housemates, a straight guy, and I would get really stoned together quite a lot, and when we’d hear them going at it, we’d sneak round to the front of the house, and while one of us was taking another lungful of gigglebush, the other would peer through the letterbox at her getting railed, and then swap so the other one could watch for a sec.
In our stoned, teenage minds we thought this was hilarious.
Especially when one of us would see the guy in the street a week or two later. It wasn’t a big city, so this would happen quite often.
In fact, a few times she’d bring home people I knew. Which in fact, was how one random straight guy I knew ended up in my room at 2am one random night. We chatted for a couple of minutes while I was trying to work out why this hot guy was waking me up in the middle of the night, and whether I was having a particularly vivid sex dream, before he said “Well, I should go. Just wanted to say hi before I shagged your housemate. See you later!” Got to admire his manners, really.
One time, me and the straight housemate got far too stoned and after listening to the sexy noises coming from with Her Downstairs, we ended up going to my room so he could Try It With A Boy.
I’ve got a lot of respect for him for being curious enough to try it, and then trusting me enough to help him with his request. He seemed to be enjoying it, too, until I maybe got a bit carried away. I can be a powerful lover at times, and, y’know, it was kinda hot. So then he made his apologies and left and we never spoke of it again.
But at least he tried it, and decided it wasn’t for him. More people could benefit from his example - there’s no shame in trying something new to see if you like it or not, or at least there shouldn’t be.
And I think a lot of the responsibility for making that experience an ok thing sits with the gay one. Or, at least, not-straight person. I mean, remember how terrifying it was when you were dealing with this stuff yourself, and how much better it could have been if there had been someone told help you out a bit in a non-judgemental, non-predatory sort of a way? It’s like that.
Y’know, everyone should be brave enough to try some same-sex shenanigans occasionally, and those already experienced should not be dicks about the whole thing, and generally just offer a helping hand, or mouth.
I found out a couple of years later that that same night, my housemate went straight from my room to her downstairs and shagged her senseless. Presumably to reassert his masculinity and get the taste out of his mouth. As it were.
I know quite a few gay guys who have this pride about having ‘seduced’ a straight guy, or have ‘turned’ a few. And it shouldn’t be about that. That’s the weird, predatory edge that makes it a bit creepy, like fetishizing straight guys.
It’s like an extra-reinforcing of how attractive a guy they must be - they’re so hot, even straight guys want a piece. And messing with someone else to boost your own ego is some seriously bad juju. Self-worth comes from within, not without.
A healthier reason for finding straight guys attractive, for me, anyway, is that it’s more a glimpse into a world that I’ve never really been part of. Something I can never be a part of.
I remember, when I was about 16, a girl mate of mine and I were chatting and she was laughing at the boys in her sixth form “Can you believe they have a league table of dick size? Like, they’ve all compared and then worked out a ranking of whose is bigger? Isn’t that tragic?” she laughed. And I’m like “Hahahah! Yeah! So, so tragic. Hahahah. Which… Which sixth form do you go to, again?”
It’s a bit like that teenage thing of watching porn with your mates. I’ve never done that, and I feel like it was something that would be a fun bonding activity. A group of guys, just sat around, watching porn together, no touching or anything, just enjoying the porn. Or the view. Or both, I guess. I’d assumed it was just a myth, but quite a few of my straight mates have done that apparently.
It’s a shame there’s not an app for that, really. Or some sort of regular group that just meets up for a couple of beers and a wank. Although I doubt you’d get many pubs willing to let you use their function room. None of my mates were up for it, anyway. Even after I offered to provide snacks.