Gentlemen Prefer Discretion

By Abel Alexander

What are these men in this book? Gay? Straight? Bi? DL? You decide, if you can figure it out and make sense of this tangled spider web and confusion. I've never had any qualms about my attraction to members of the same gender, in fact, I embraced what I was created with enthusiasm. But not so others. Or perhaps they can be lured out of the straight shell? My personal account with 'straight' men.

Names have been changed and in some cases, so have the situations, but yes this book is largely a personal experience account with men from a small town who otherwise couldn't keep their hands off of me. And who was I to refuse a straight man looking for some?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abel Alexander
• Release date: Nov 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311658098

Book preview

GENTLEMEN PREFER DISCRETION

By

Abel Alexander

SMASHWORDS EDITION

PUBLISHED BY:

Abel Alexander on Smashwords

Gentlemen Prefer Discretion

Copyright © 2013 Abel Alexander

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Cover by Vila Design

Adult Reading Material

Gentlemen Prefer Discretion

Chapter 1

Gay? Straight? Bi? DL? You decide, if you can figure it out and make sense of this tangled spider web and confusion. If, like most people, you don’t know what DL means, well it stands for ‘down low’ or being on the ‘down low’ which is used to describe heterosexual men who sometimes like or want or, more correctly ‘have’, sex with other men. Used by whom? Probably by none other than these same heterosexual men. I mean really, what do you call a gay man who sometimes wants or has sex with women? There is no term? Odd. Why? Probably, unlike the down low species, they had never had the need to invent a term for themselves – and straight men think that women are insecure, they need only to look in the mirror.

The stories you are about to read are true to life stories of my own experience, save for name changes as well, it’s best to keep this information hidden. Oh, and the conversations have been embellished somewhat because, let’s face it, I didn’t carry around a tape recorder everywhere I went and it’s not like all this happened last week so my memory is sketchy regarding specific details. The stories detail my own personal relationship with men who were married to women or at least appeared be attracted and drawn to women, men whom our all-glorious modern society has termed and described as ‘straight’. They are everyday men, nothing unusual about them, but men who were expected to never have their fingers in a gay pie - or so it seemed.

For me, I will be thirty years old next week, these men represent the Holy Grail (probably not the best description, some would say) of my sex life in the twenties, not that it’s all that roaring, mind you. I’ve always adored married or straight studs and was more than happy to give these guys a ‘straight’ treatment, if you can get the gist of my language here. Are they Gay? Straight? Bi? DL (sic)? I’ll let you decide.

But first, let’s talk about me. I will be thirty years old next week. Am six feet tall, medium build (an improvement as in my younger days I was stockier), actually I have a very attractive body, very muscular and full (but because gay men often over obsess about physical appearances, I go for a more modest attitude, I do not like stereotyping). I am about a hundred and ninety pounds. My hair is dark, a very dark brown some say, some say its black, but it’s very dark, let’s leave it at that and wavy. Eyes are of a strange hue of which even I am impressed. Eyebrows curved, when I was sixteen, my cousin Vanessa and fellow vagabond tweezed them and arched them – it was a desperate attempt on her part to fulfill her wild dream of becoming a beauty expert, I think they stayed that way ever since. Eyelashes long, very long, a very seductive feature, something that I that was aware of at thirteen already, a feature that is responsible, more than any other, of both heartbreak and seduction. Nose, very attractive, period. Lips not too thick, but somewhat curvy and sexy look – all this is Vanessa’s choice of words, not mine. Usually I go with either stubble or a small beard – I’m a sucker for facial hair, so naturally I think it looks good on me. I have ugly toenails – don’t ask me how I got from the previous description to this one, just keep reading; sometimes I get tongue-tied, and am slightly arrogant (scratch that, overly arrogant) towards people at times – but the arrogance is another important feature that has gotten me into someone’s bed one way or another. And yes, I’ve heard it and perfectly know it too, I am devilishly attractive and good looking.

Grew up in a one-horse town, which I love, tried living in the city, which I loathed so much, I returned to the one-horse town without a second thought, but I took the fortune that I had amased in the loathing city with me, yes that was the worthwill thing that I enjoyed, the money. No, I will not pretend that I have morals, there are too many people of those in the world, trying to keep in under a balance to avoid another catastrophic Noah’s flood, and I don’t feel like building an ark any time soon.

I live in a small town (at least for now), not overly small, but certainly no city, I grew up here. A town, but with a lots of traffic, not to mention a lot of horny truckers passing who are just waiting for a passing one-night-stand, discreet and pleasurable – or so I’ve heard. Although rarely I did took advantage of those options at my disposal, especially now that I’m older and have more refined tastes, a tryst with strangers is not for me. Occasionally, when I was younger and lonely, I would come across this hungry, horny, married stud, who was struggling with his sexuality and who just what to be held by a strong pair of arms for one night, falling asleep with his hand around a nice cock and a sack of balls, so yes, I would take it upon myself to sooth and comfort them for a night. But then they’d go on their merry way, satisfied (certainly going away with more satisfaction than from the pussy that they would usually have, or so they said), and thankfully, I wouldn’t see them again after that.

So we begin….

But where to begin? I suppose the best place or person to begin with is David.

David was my relative, not blood relative, my uncle or rather my step uncle. My parents got divorced when I was around