Bottom Slayer: First Bottom Slain - Sex Stories

Bottom Slayer: First Bottom Slain

... favour to my girlfriend of the moment, a cheerleader with big tits and a ferocious sexual appetite, when it happened. By ten that night there were only three of us still finishing set-up when my girlfriend’s mom called, insisting she get home and get a good sleep for tomorrow's prom. I was pretty disappointed because I had expected to release a load in her before dropping her off. Eric, our school President and the biggest prep there was, offered to give me a ride home. I reluctantly agreed when my girlfriend pleaded I stay and finish the last few decorations...promising me she would make it worth my while tomorrow...as she whispered in my ear, "I have one more hole to give you." My cock immediately grew at the thought of anal sex. As my girlfriend wandered away, I adjusted my erect cock and as I looked at Eric he quickly looked away, as if ashamed to see me catch him looking at the bulging package in my pants. I joked, "Fuck, Karen is such a tease. I was sure I was getting a blowjob at the very least tonight." He didn't respond, and continued working on the last of the decorations. I don't know why or how I knew, but I just did. I have come to call it my Bottom Sense: my keen ability to sense when a guy is gay curious, even if he doesn't know yet. Eric was the most popular non-jock white kid in our school. I don't know how I knew, but I was instantly confident I could have him sucking me off by night's end. I finished helping him with the last of the decorations. I climbed ...

... the ladder while he spotted for me. On my way down the ladder, I stopped intentionally when my still hard cock was at his eye level. As I expected, he didn't immediately look away and I asked, cocky, like I would with a chick I was attempting to get in bed, "Like what you see?" I adjusted my cock again inside my pants. "What?" he replied, pretending I hadn't caught him taking a long look at my bulge in my pants. I got off the ladder and went to one of the mannequins that were part of the decorations (I still have no idea why the decoration committee had mannequins). I grabbed a long blonde wig and suggested we get out of here. Once in the car, I handed him the wig. Eric looked at me, confused. "Put it on," I ordered, with just a hint of authority. "W-w-why?" he stuttered. Going for broke, I answered, "Because I want you to look like a chick when you are sucking my big cock." His eyes went big and he defended himself, "I am not gay." I smiled, pulling my big nine-inch black snake out from its restrictive prison, "My cock doesn't care if you are gay, straight or bi. But it does expect you to suck it like you know you want to." He stammered, unable to take his eyes off my long impressive erection, "B-b-but...." "No buts, Erica," I interrupted, giving him a new name, creating a new persona for him. One I believed would help him overcome his stereotypical male reputation and succumb to his real desire: to be a faggot. Again, I don't know how I knew, but I was sure I was right. I ...